Given the long-standing conflict between Peggy Carter and HYDRA, Daisy had little doubt that the blonde woman before her had been assigned by Fury to keep an eye on her.
She had expected some level of surveillance, but she hadn’t imagined they would assign the descendant of a war hero to the task.
What Daisy didn’t know was that Sharon’s thoughts mirrored her own.
As far as Sharon was concerned, this civilian recruit had clearly been sent to monitor her.
Being the descendant of a war hero offered certain advantages, but it also brought its own share of risks and political maneuvering.
Many within the organization had been reluctant to see Peggy Carter’s descendant join S.H.I.E.L.D.
Peggy and Sharon were nearly seventy years apart in age, but it wasn’t because the Carter family lacked younger generations.
The family was quite large.
In the past, several direct descendants had attempted to join S.H.I.E.L.D., yet every one of them had been forced out by one incident or another.
It wasn’t until Peggy Carter had reached the age of ninety, with most of her former influence gone, that Sharon Carter was finally accepted into S.H.I.E.L.D., joining the same class as Daisy.
Sharon quickly suppressed her irritation.
She was used to this sort of thing.
From childhood onward, it had always seemed as though someone was watching her—household staff, neighbors, teachers.
One more observer made little difference.
Even so, the brief flash of hostility that crossed her face did not escape Daisy’s notice, though she couldn’t understand where it had come from.
The sparring session soon ended.
Both women remained just as warm and friendly on the surface as they had been at the beginning.
They chatted and laughed all the way back to their dormitory floor, exchanged polite smiles at their doors, and said goodbye.
Daisy felt as though her face was about to cramp from smiling.
“Women’s friendships really are unreliable…” she thought to herself.
After watching Sharon enter her room, Daisy turned back toward the elevator.
This time, she was determined to have a proper meal.
Leaning against her own door, Sharon listened as Daisy’s footsteps faded into the distance, becoming even more convinced that Daisy had been assigned to monitor her.
She must be on her way to report to her superiors.
The blonde sighed, uncertain whether joining S.H.I.E.L.D.
had been the right decision.
Completely unaware of the misunderstanding, Daisy headed to the cafeteria, piled her tray high with fried chicken wings and drumsticks, and found a quiet corner to eat.
To appear a little more refined, she also grabbed a plate of doughnuts, which seemed to be especially popular among people with superhuman abilities.
When the cafeteria was quiet, she ate chicken.
When more people were around, she switched to doughnuts.
Halfway through the meal, she added five slices of cake, fifteen chocolates, and a large bowl of mashed potatoes.
People passing by occasionally noticed the beautiful young woman eating.
Most simply found the sight charming.
None of them realized she had been sitting there for an entire hour.
“So satisfying.” The food passed through her digestive system, rapidly supplying energy to every cell in her body.
The deep sense of fulfillment was almost impossible to describe.
The only word that came close was satisfying.
Just as she was preparing to leave, someone nearby said, “Eating that much at once isn’t good for your stomach.
You really overdid it.” Daisy had noticed the newcomer earlier but hadn’t paid any attention.
Since when had eating a lot become a crime?
A Chinese American woman dressed in black tactical gear approached her with a curious expression.
She was someone Daisy recognized, despite never having met her personally.
Daisy extended her hand.
“Daisy Johnson.” The other woman discreetly checked that Daisy’s hand wasn’t greasy before shaking it.
“I’m Melinda May.
Do you speak Chinese?” The last sentence was spoken in Chinese.
Hearing Melinda May’s distinctive accent, Daisy found herself momentarily speechless.
Why did everyone insist on showing off their Chinese?
Madam Gao spoke with a similar Southern Fujian accent, and now Agent May did as well.
Responding with a standard Beijing accent would attract far too much attention.
Fortunately, Daisy had anticipated this possibility before arriving.
Imitating the way a foreign learner might speak Chinese, she exaggerated her pronunciation with obvious English phonetics and replied with effort, “A little.” If she had spoken Chinese that poorly in her previous life, people would probably have assumed she barely knew the language.
Hearing that Daisy could speak at least a little Chinese, Agent May seemed genuinely pleased and repeatedly praised her for not forgetting her heritage.
“Fury thinks very highly of you,” Melinda May said, switching back to English.
“He believes you have great potential.” Daisy simply replied that she still had a great deal to learn.
“Finished eating?” “Yes.” “Come to the training room.
I want to see what you can do.” With that, Agent May headed toward the training hall.
Turning back to her room now would have felt awkward, so Daisy followed.
The two chose an empty sparring ring.
“What martial art do you practice?” “Karate.” “Anything else?” “…No.” Agent May frowned.
“Karate is fairly basic.
Come on—attack me.
I’ll show you what proper kung fu looks like.” Did true kung fu exist in this world?
Daisy knew it did.
Places like K’un-Lun and Peng Lai truly existed, and their practitioners could legitimately claim mastery of martial arts.
Madam Gao, who had lived for more than four hundred years, was one such example.
Agent May, however, was simply an exceptionally skilled martial artist.
Even so, Daisy had no intention of underestimating her.
Although she knew she couldn’t win, she still settled into her karate stance.
“Be careful.” She stepped into striking range and suddenly launched a straight punch toward May’s face.
May reacted instantly.
Tilting her head aside, she slipped past the punch, seized Daisy’s wrist with one hand, and swept at her leg.
Daisy responded just as quickly.
She pivoted her right foot in a semicircle to avoid the sweep while simultaneously reaching to trap May’s arm.
“Not bad,” Agent May remarked as she watched Daisy’s footwork.
“You’ve trained seriously.” After only two exchanges, she found herself genuinely interested in the Chinese American trainee Fury had spoken so highly of.
Using a movement from Xingyi Quan’s Crane Form, she deflected Daisy’s attack with one hand before driving a palm strike forward.
Daisy tried to circle around her opponent, but the palm strike flowed seamlessly with May’s footwork, tracking her movement almost perfectly.
She had no choice but to raise her forearm and block.
At the same time, she shifted her weight backward and launched a side kick toward May’s abdomen.
“Too flashy.” May’s voice carried a trace of criticism as she simply stepped back twice, effortlessly avoiding both the side kick and the spinning back kick that followed.
“See?
Moves like those may look impressive, but they’re not very practical.
You should learn techniques with more substance.” There was disappointment in her tone, as though she felt Daisy’s potential was being held back by poor instruction.
Daisy knew exactly what she meant.
The quality of karate instruction varied widely.
She had defeated her own instructor after only a week of training, which said enough about his ability.
At the time, however, she hadn’t had many options.
Now, seeing how willing Agent May was to teach, Daisy immediately focused on learning everything she could.
May had almost no teaching experience.
She was an outstanding fighter, but explaining her techniques to someone else was an entirely different challenge.
Much of what she knew came from instinct and experience rather than concepts she could easily put into words.
Fortunately, Daisy already had a solid foundation.
She learned quickly, and after finally eating her fill, she was in the best physical condition she had been in for quite some time.
The two spent the session half sparring and half training, with Daisy steadily absorbing one combat technique after another.