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"Very well."
Mephisto stood up, the smile on his face turning vicious.
"Then... the contract is finalized."
He pressed the ball of Hellfire in his hand onto Fury's chest!
"Embrace it! Nicholas!"
"Aaaahhhhhh—!!!"
A mournful scream echoed throughout the Safe House.
Fury felt every inch of his skin and every bone melting.
His black skin peeled away in the flames, turning to ash.
His muscles withered and then swelled.
Only a few seconds passed, but in his mind, it felt like centuries.
Finally.
The flames extinguished.
Calm returned to the Safe House, with only a faint smell of sulfur lingering in the air.
The original Nick Fury was gone.
In his place stood a strange man in front of a mirror.
A White man.
He looked about fifty years old, with graying temples and a face marked by the vicissitudes of time.
He still wore that iconic eye patch over his left eye.
He reached out and touched his completely unfamiliar White face, a cold sneer appearing at the corner of his mouth.
Starting today.
There was no longer the wanted "S.H.I.E.L.D. Rat" Nick Fury in the world.
Only an Avenger returned from Hell.
Mephisto looked at this brand new "Nick Fury" with satisfaction.
"A perfect masterpiece."
"The transaction is complete, Nick. Or do you want a new name? Jerry? Or Tom? As you like."
"None of that matters. What matters is that I will be waiting for you in Hell. We will have plenty of time to catch up. I will prepare a special seat for you, right next to Hitler."
He elegantly extended his long fingers toward the signed Parchment Contract on the table.
However, the moment his finger touched the contract.
Mephisto's face, which had originally held a victorious smile, suddenly became twisted and vicious.
"What did you do—!"
The voice of the Hell Lord was no longer elegant, but a roar filled with the smell of sulfur.
His gaze fixed intensely on the bottom right corner of the contract, where an extra mark had appeared.
A mark that should never appear on any Devil's Contract.
It was a dark red Clay Seal, engraved with a cross and surrounded by a circle of mysterious, almost worn-out text.
When Mephisto's finger touched the mark, it made a sizzling sound like roasting meat.
"The Holy Cross Clay Seal..."
"You actually stamped the Holy Cross Clay Seal! While signing a contract with me?!"
Mephisto raised his head, burning with rage, his eyes turning into two balls of blazing fire.
This power originated from the realm of the Tenth Realm Angel Nation.
The consequence was that this contract, which he originally dominated and was filled with his personal bias, turned into a fair transaction under "third-party notarization."
He lost the "final right of interpretation" over the contract terms, and he could not mix curses into the power, or the contract would become void.
"Do you know what you've done?!"
"The consequences of angering the Hell Lord are something you cannot bear!"
Mephisto roared, and demonic shadows crept across the entire wall, seemingly ready to swallow Fury whole.
"Save it."
Fury calmly picked up his handgun from the table and tucked it back into his waist.
"Your anger only demonstrates your helplessness."
"I stumbled upon this thing in 1988 while on a mission at a Monastery in Berlin."
Fury's thoughts drifted back to that cold night.
"The old Priest gave it to me just before he died. He said this thing could make devils follow the rules."
"Although I didn't entirely believe it at the time, I have a good habit—never throwing away anything that might become a trump card."
"I've been wearing it as a good luck charm ever since."
Fury raised his eyes and looked at Mephisto.
"Ever since you appeared in this room, this thing has been guiding me, Mephisto."
"Good... very good..."
The rage in Mephisto's eyes slowly subsided, and he regained his elegance.
"Nick Fury. I admit, you are the most cunning mortal I have ever met."
"But don't think you've won."
He extended his finger and pointed at Fury's heart through the air.
"The contract is still valid... using the power of Hell is, in itself, a curse."
"You will find that some prices cannot be avoided simply by playing word games."
"I will watch you, watch you descend into the Abyss step by step."
With that, Mephisto's figure turned into a puff of black smoke and vanished into the air.
"Price? Everything has a price..."
Fury sneered at the vanished Hell Lord.
"But it must be one I am willing to pay..."
...In the Particle Physics Laboratory at the University of Greenwich in London, Britain, draft papers covered in formulas and half-eaten sandwiches were scattered everywhere.
Jane Foster was hunched over a complex instrument, focused on adjusting the parameters of the Gravitational Wave Detector.
"If I adjust the gravitational constant to this frequency band..." she muttered to herself, carefully turning the screwdriver in her hand, "maybe we can capture those faint spatial fluctuations."
"That is residual energy from Asgard."
A deep male voice sounded behind her.
Jane's hand trembled, and the screwdriver almost fell into the instrument.
She spun around abruptly, a look of joyful surprise blooming on her face.
"Thor!"
Thor stood at the doorway, not wearing his flashy armor, but instead a mortal jacket and jeans, with Mjolnir disguised as an umbrella.
"Hey, Jane." Thor walked over and gave her a hug.
"Easy! Easy! My ribs aren't made of metal!" Jane laughed, patting his back.
Thor released her, his gaze tender: "Sorry, I always struggle to control my strength. How is your research going?"
"It's progressing smoothly, thanks to you." Jane pointed to the data. "With the Nine Realms coordinates you provided, my Celestial Convergence thesis will probably make those old academics still arguing about the existence of wormholes swallow their dentures."
"That's good." Thor nodded. "You continue your work here for now, and once you're done with this part, I'll take you on a trip."
"A trip?" Jane's eyes lit up. "Where to?"
"Right here on Earth." Thor smiled. "I heard Father say that Midgard has a place called Norway. It has fjords and the aurora borealis. It's a beautiful place where we, the Aesir, once descended."
"Norway?" Jane looked wistful. "That sounds romantic."
"Yes, just the two of us." Thor took her hand and kissed it. "But before that, I have a small trouble to deal with."
"Oh... that Enchantress." Jane's radar instantly activated, and she narrowed her eyes warily. "Sif said she was your... old flame?"
"No! Absolutely not!"
Thor immediately raised his hands, reacting like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"Sif is spreading rumors! Pure slander!"
"Lorelei is just... just a criminal I apprehended six hundred years ago! I only have legal responsibility for her, no personal feelings whatsoever!"
"Is that so?" Jane looked at him suspiciously. "But I heard that you almost abandoned mjolnir for her back then?"
"That was Witchcraft! Do you understand Witchcraft?"
Thor's face turned red with anxiety as he gesticulated wildly in explanation.
"I was young then, less than nine hundred years old, and my willpower wasn't strong enough. But things are different now!"
Thor thumped his chest, making a solemn vow.
"My mind is now as solid as a rock! Completely immune to her Sorcery!"
"Really?"
"I swear by Odin's beard!"
Jane looked at his earnest, silly expression and finally couldn't help but laugh.
"Alright, I believe you." She stood up, stood on tiptoe, and pecked Thor's lips. "Go quickly and come back soon."
"Yes, my lady, I will return quickly!"
Having said that, Thor picked up his "umbrella," pushed open the door, and strode out quickly.
When he reached a deserted spot, he called out to the sky.
"Heimdall!"
"Help me see, where is that troublesome woman now?"