Chapter 82: The Secret Base of the Braised Egg

Old Wang always considered himself thin-skinned, his soft beard sharp enough to pierce it—far inferior, he thought, to most women in the world. Queen Sylvanas was so beautiful that, in the end, Old Wang held himself back, though it was her elder and younger sisters who suffered for it; high elves simply couldn't match the stamina and constitution of a pandaren.

Of course, the ones who had it worst were Turalyon and Ronin. They were not just the queen’s brothers-in-law, but also Old Wang’s followers… Old Wang was not the sort to take money without putting in the work.

Thinking of his own crew, their fighting skills were decent, but their familiarity with modern equipment was far behind that of S.H.I.E.L.D. field agents. Why not ask the Bald Egg to put them through some drills?

"Skye, make a call and get everyone over here."

After washing up and having breakfast, Old Wang left Robbie the Ghost Rider to guard the house—Robbie never needed modern equipment anyway. Skye drove the newly bought truck, taking Old Wang, Gabe, Matt, Erica, and Stick to a certain farm on the outskirts, following coordinates provided by Black Widow.

The short, rotund farmer was busy milking the cows and ignored the troop of newcomers entirely, pretending not to see them.

"Firestone Farm—S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secret base. Everyone here is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," Black Widow announced, emerging from a house, arms folded as she leaned against the door. "Master Wang, this way."

A secret S.H.I.E.L.D. base? More likely a secret base of Bald Egg’s own, Old Wang mused with a chuckle. In these times, Bald Egg trusted few people; he had to guard against Hydra infiltrators. A base for special training like this was probably known to almost no one—perhaps only himself, a few undercover agents on the farm, and those selected for training.

Moreover, Bald Egg had brought him here instead of to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Triskelion or any other famous site—probably to keep an eye on him as well. Like guarding against a thief, eh?

Come on! Besides mysterious 084 objects, the world’s most secret archives, vast connections, advanced equipment, Quinjet airships, the Cosmic Cube, and promising scientists like Fitz and Simmons, there was little at S.H.I.E.L.D. that really interested Old Wang.

They entered. Black Widow led Old Wang to the basement, opened a hidden door, and descended a long stairway, at least several dozen steps, before reaching the bottom.

Black Widow lifted her head, chest out. A creamy beam scanned her chest badge from a spot above the door, and a gentle voice intoned:

“Level 7 Agent Natasha Romanoff, welcome to Firestone Base. You are authorized as the temporary commander of this base, with Level 2 access and temporary supreme command.”

A heavy, intelligent security door slid open, and Old Wang’s eyes widened.

The secret base covered over 3,000 square meters, filled with all manner of modern facilities. Its walls were reinforced to the level of an air raid shelter, able to withstand even a small missile strike. And this was just the part he could see; there were surely more levels below. By Old Wang’s rough estimate, the construction and outfitting costs must have been at least ten million dollars.

And to think, Bald Egg had who knows how many such secret bases, some ten times larger, hidden in deserts, forests, mountains, even at sea. Airplanes, submarines, anti-aircraft cannons, every kind of weapon and talent imaginable. He might even have a stockpile of the latest Jericho missiles.

What a wealthy dog! If all these secret bases were counted as Bald Egg’s personal assets, Old Wang wagered, he could outclass at least half the names on the Forbes billionaire list.

Unlike most tycoons, his wealth wasn’t just virtual value from stock prices, but solid, tangible assets—things that couldn’t be bought with mere gold or silver.

No wonder everyone wanted a piece of him!

The base was bustling, with at least a hundred agents, both men and women, all wearing military pants and vests—the men muscular, the women with impressive physiques. They were all training hard: hand-to-hand combat or practicing gun techniques with various firearms—if that was even the term used in this world.

Grunts, cries of pain, and groans filled the air.

One thing was certain: they were all vigorous and dedicated. Even when Old Wang entered, no one was distracted; instead, they trained even harder.

“They’re all field agents selected from across the globe, thoroughly vetted and subjected to the strictest lie detector tests—absolutely trustworthy, not Hydra infiltrators, and each has been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for at least three years, with a minimum clearance of Level 4,” Black Widow explained briefly, then turned to Old Wang. “As S.H.I.E.L.D.’s special consultant, you are granted Level 4 clearance and may access Level 4 files. The others have Level 3 clearance.”

Only Level 4? Captain America was granted Level 8 when he joined, wasn’t he? Bald Egg, are you looking down on me? Old Wang seethed inwardly at the slight, though he maintained a look of satisfaction on the surface, clenching his fists behind his back.

“Don’t say I’m not professional—shall we start the drills now? Don’t worry, I’ll take it seriously. After all, if I slack off, how will you pay me? S.H.I.E.L.D. agents aren’t afraid of pain, are they?”

“All agents have undergone strict pain endurance training, including a weeklong simulation of labor pains... The others can begin at any time, but you need to come with me first.”

Black Widow eyed Old Wang curiously, wondering why this notorious slacker was suddenly so diligent. The pay was generous, but wasn’t he the disciple of the Immortal Iron Fist? Couldn’t he look beyond money for once?

She scoffed inwardly, then glanced further inside. “Your equipment is waiting for you.”

“Fine,” Old Wang replied, a bit disappointed but still quite interested in high-tech gear. He turned back and said, “You can start now. For all the money you’ve taken, don’t you dare slack off!”

Skye rolled her eyes—she knew Old Wang’s every move before he made it.

Matt and Stick could sense his excitement from his rare quickened heartbeat and silently mourned for the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents about to be put through their paces.

Erica’s beautiful eyes narrowed as she instantly shifted into combat mode.

Gabe was left bewildered; what were his brothers, sisters, and grandfather gearing up for?

Following Black Widow through three security doors, two corridors, and a flight of stairs, Old Wang finally arrived at the lowest room in the base.

Even before entering, he heard a fierce commotion—an exchange of technical jargon, like five hundred ducks squabbling.

“Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons—the youngest genius scientists in the Tech Division. They’ll be responsible for creating your high-tech gear,” Black Widow explained, rubbing her earlobe in exasperation. “They’re brilliant, but they do talk a lot.”

Hearing these familiar names, Old Wang stopped in his tracks. “Bald Egg actually let them go?”