When the alarm rang, Luke was covering his face with a copy of the New York Times.
The entire S.H.I.E.L.D.
command center instantly erupted into chaos.
Agents poured out from every direction, the sounds of body armor, tactical vests, and firearms clashing into a cacophony.
On the big screen, Nick Fury’s one-eyed face filled the entire display.
“Attention everyone!
Hulk is rampaging in Midtown Manhattan and has already overturned three streets!” “All combat teams, assemble immediately and arrive at the battlefield within fifteen minutes!” “I repeat, this is not a drill!” The hall was in total disarray.
Someone knocked over a coffee cup, someone was shouting that they couldn’t find their holster, and two new intern Agents ran in the wrong direction, slamming headfirst into a glass door.
Luke lay on a lounge chair in the corner, the newspaper rising and falling with his breath.
How terrifying~ Hulk is rampaging.
A big green guy, the kind that can smash a tank into a metal pancake with one punch.
Just hearing the name is enough to make one’s scalp tingle.
But what does that have to do with him?
Luke rolled over and found a more comfortable position.
Three months ago, he was still a corporate slave in another World, squeezing into the subway, eating takeout, and being tortured to the point of baldness by clients every day.
Then, with the blink of an eye, he was here.
Marvel Universe.
A place where you can see alien invasions just by looking up, and step on mutant cockroaches just by looking down.
He almost went insane when he first transmigrated, until a system panel popped up in his mind.
[Roleplay System Activated] [First Template: Admiral Kizaru (Borsalino)] [Awakening Progress: 87%] [Upgrade Rules: Clock in for work on time every day, and the Glint-Glint Fruit ability will continue to improve.] [Special Restriction: Leave work on time, clock out on time.
You can leave early, but you must never work overtime without generous compensation.] [One violation, and progress resets to zero.] When Luke first saw these rules, he almost laughed out loud.
This system was practically tailor-made for him.
In his past life, he was a loyal advocate of leaving work on time, never working overtime, shutting down his computer on the dot, and being in the elevator at 6:01.
He would pretend not to hear whatever his boss was shouting behind him.
But after the initial joy, he couldn’t laugh anymore.
Because his profession was S.H.I.E.L.D.
Agent.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
The World’s largest superhero logistics department, specifically responsible for cleaning up the mess.
Today chasing HYDRA, tomorrow plugging alien wormholes, the day after cleaning up messes for the Avengers.
Overtime is the norm; not working overtime is the anomaly.
Is this system doing this on purpose?
Arranging for him to enter a unit that never rests, then telling him he’s not allowed to work overtime.
Luke got a toothache every time he thought about it.
Fortunately, he only had to hold on for one more week, and the Kizaru template would fully awaken.
By then, the Light Speed Kick, Yasakani no Magatama, and Ama no Murakumo would all be unlocked.
Forget about Hulk; even if Thanos came, he could sit down and have a cup of tea with him.
The premise is, don’t crash and burn in this last week.
Although the system rules state that he can work overtime under the condition of “generous compensation.” But at S.H.I.E.L.D., negotiating with Nick Fury, Luke felt that was basically the same as Hulk’s pants ripping during a transformation—theoretically possible, but practically impossible.
So the most important thing right now is one word.
Lay low.
Luke pressed the newspaper further onto his face, intending to continue sleeping.
Then the newspaper was snatched away.
Light pierced straight into his eyes.
Luke squinted and looked up.
A man in a black leather coat, bald and one-eyed, stood before him, his expression so sour it could wring water out.
“Yo!
Director!” Luke sat up from the chair and pulled out a very sincere smile.
Nick Fury did not smile.
“What are you doing?” “Sleeping.” Luke patted the non-existent dust off his body, looking righteous and confident.
“Didn’t you hear the alarm?” Fury’s voice was very low.
That kind of low wasn’t the gentle kind; it was the low of the last second before a storm.
Of course Luke heard it; the whole building was ringing, even a deaf person could hear it.
But he still tilted his head cooperatively, putting on an expression of sudden realization.
“Oh, that?
I thought it was a fire drill.” Fury’s temple twitched.
“Hulk is rampaging in Manhattan and has already caused massive destruction.
I need everyone who can move to the front line.” “Everyone who can move?” Luke looked down at himself.
“Director, I only make a few thousand dollars a month.
You want me to go fight Hulk?” “That’s a green monster, two stories tall, that can smash a building flat with one punch.” Luke counted on his fingers.
“With my salary, it’s not even enough to pay for my life.” Fury stared at him, the emotions in that one eye complex.
Anger, helplessness.
And a hint of deep regret, a “why did I ever recruit this guy” feeling.
“This is an order.” Luke stood up and patted his pants.
“Fine, you’re the Director, you call the shots.” Anyway, as long as he didn’t put in any effort once he got there, it would be fine.
Slack off when possible, mix in until it’s time to clock out and leave.
Perfect.
Luke followed behind the main force, walking out with a light step and a calm mind.
Tactical vest?
Too lazy to wear it.
Gun?
Just grabbed the lightest one.
Helmet?
Forget it, it’ll mess up my hair.
Agent Ward, who was passing by, glanced at him, his face full of disbelief.
“Su, you’re only bringing this?” “It’s enough, it’s enough.” Luke waved his hand.
“The important thing is participating.” …
Over Manhattan, New York.
Six armed helicopters circled in the thick smoke, the wind from their propellers blowing rubble and dust everywhere.
On the ground, the Military tanks lined up, their barrels all aimed at the green behemoth in the center of the street.
Shells hit, exploding in a ball of fire.
Hulk rushed out of the smoke, unscathed, and slapped the lead tank into scrap metal.
Soldiers scattered and fled.
The S.H.I.E.L.D.
transport plane landed three hundred meters away, and Agents poured out one after another.
Luke followed at the very back, slowly stepping onto the asphalt road, looking left and right as if he were strolling in a park.
On the helicopter, General Ross looked down with binoculars.
His jaw was tight, his lips pursed into a line.
This old General had dealt with Hulk too many times, and every time it was the same outcome: the army was crushed, the city was destroyed, and Bruce Banner disappeared into the night.
Fury’s helicopter moved closer, and the two aircraft hovered side by side.
Fury spoke through the communication channel: “General, rest assured.
With S.H.I.E.L.D.
intervening this time, the situation will be under control.” General Ross didn’t turn his head, the binoculars still pressed to his eyes.
“Fury, I’ve been dealing with Hulk longer than you have.” He lowered the binoculars and turned his head to look at Fury.
“Your people can’t beat him at all.
Don’t just throw your lives away for nothing.” Fury didn’t respond.
…
On the ground.
Hulk was roaring, each sound like muffled thunder rolling across the ground.
He slammed his fists into the ground, and the asphalt road split from the center, the cracks spreading in all directions.
Agents fired from behind cover, but the bullets hitting Hulk were like tickles.
Luke crouched behind an overturned bus, his gun rested in the gap under the vehicle, occasionally firing a shot in Hulk’s direction.
Whether he hit or not didn’t matter; the key was to have a shooting posture, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to report back.
He glanced at the watch on his wrist.
17:59.
One more minute.
Luke pulled the gun out from the gap, stood up, and patted the dust off his knees.
Beside him, Hawkeye was kneeling on the ground, drawing his bow fully and aiming at Hulk’s knee.
Luke handed the gun over.
“Hold this.” Barton didn’t release the string, his eyes still fixed on Hulk.
“What’s wrong?” “I’m off the clock.” Barton’s bowstring almost slipped.
He turned his head, thinking he had misheard.
Luke had already turned and started walking away.
In the center of the battlefield, artillery fire filled the sky, and smoke and dust billowed.
A man in casual clothes, not even wearing a tactical vest, with his hands in his pockets, strode out of the battlefield.
The Agents watched, dumbfounded.
“Where…
where is he going?” “Don’t know.” “Is he retreating?” “No, that’s the direction of the subway station.” Luke walked calmly, his steps steady, his breathing even.
His mind was already thinking about what to have for dinner.
That ramen shop on 46th Street in Manhattan was good—miso soup base, add a soft-boiled egg— A deafening roar came from behind.
The ground was shaking.
In his peripheral vision, a huge shadow descended from the sky.
Hulk had ripped up half the road, along with the concrete pipes and steel bars underneath, and threw the whole thing over.
The trajectory was aimed directly at the back of Luke’s head.
The three-ton concrete block rotated in the air, smashing down with a whistling sound.
The surrounding Agents cried out in alarm.
Barton turned abruptly, but it was too late to draw his bow.
Fury saw this scene from the helicopter, leaning forward, one hand bracing against the cabin door.
Luke stopped walking.
Deep in his right eye, a tiny glimmer of golden light shone.
In a split second, his brain was racing.
Should he dodge?
He could dodge.
With his current speed, taking half a step to the left would be enough.
But the stone would keep flying and smash into the group of Agents retreating behind him.
Luke cursed inwardly.
They wouldn’t pay a single cent in overtime, would they?
He turned around.
He lifted his right leg, a layer of golden light, almost invisible to the naked eye, flashing across his leg.
He kicked the three-ton block of concrete.
A muffled thud.
It wasn’t the sound of stone shattering, but the sound of the entire block being kicked away.
The three-ton concrete block spun with terrifying force, flying back along its original trajectory, three times faster than when Hulk threw it.
Hulk looked up, too late to react.
The stone block hit him squarely in the face, knocking the two-story-tall green giant flat on his back.
His head hit the asphalt, creating a two-meter-deep crater.
Then, he stopped moving.