Marvel: Sign-In System – Starting with the Glint-Glint Fruit Chapter 86 86: OK, We’ve Got Trouble

Deep within Hell stood an ancient castle.

It was a massive palace forged from so kind of black stone and countless bones. The structure had no roof at all, leaving it directly exposed beneath the fiery crimson sky. Towering pillars rose high into the air, while broken walls and ruined structures were covered with horns, skulls, and demonic carvings.

All around it echoed endless wails, screams of agony, the crackling roar of flas, and the boiling rumble of magma.

At the center of the great hall stood a throne.

Seated upon it was a tall, thin demon with crimson skin and a scarlet cloak draped over his body.

He was the ruler of this Hell itself—

phisto.

Leaning back against the throne, phisto slowly opened his previously closed eyes, and an icy terror flashed through them.

A violent aura erupted outward, causing the entire realm of Hell to tremble slightly. Countless demons throughout Hell let out shrill screams, filled with fear and confusion, unable to understand what had caused their ruler to beco so enraged.

"That human brat!!"

phisto spat out the na that fueled his rage. He hadn't expected to fail on Earth twice, and that the cause of his failure was a young human boy only seventeen or eighteen years old.

Not only had his energy projection on Earth been destroyed, but even the thousand-year plan he had painstakingly arranged had completely fallen apart.

However, phisto cald down almost imdiately afterward.

He was realistic and rational by nature.

Very rarely did he allow emotions to control him. Even when he did lose control montarily, he would quickly correct himself, analyze the situation, and search for opportunities that could benefit him instead.

If necessary, he could even abandon his so-called dignity and kneel before beings stronger than himself without hesitation.

"That boy knew of my arrival beforehand. He was waiting specifically for ."

Once calm, phisto quickly pieced together the truth.

At first, he had assud Matthew sought out Carter because Blackheart's movents had been exposed. But now he completely rejected that theory.

Matthew must have learned of his appearance on Earth in advance.

The boy's real target had been him from the very beginning.

Is it the Ancient One?

A certain bald human woman imdiately appeared in phisto's mind.

He raised his head and looked toward the sky, his gaze piercing through Hell's dinsional layers until he saw the strongest protector on Earth—the Ancient One—standing amidst chaos and the endless stars, resisting the darkness.

For a brief mont, he even seed to see the faint smile curling at the corners of her lips.

"That damned woman." phisto cursed under his breath, the fire in his heart completely extinguished.

She was soone he could not afford to provoke.

The Ancient One was strong—terrifyingly strong. Strong enough that even phisto would never casually provoke her. It was precisely because of her, along with Odin of Asgard, that he had never dared covet Earth recklessly.

But what made her even more terrifying was the fact that she was dying.

The most dangerous period for a powerful being was not when they stood at their peak, but when they were nearing death.

During that stage, anyone foolish enough to provoke them would inevitably face a battle to the death with no possibility of retreat.

If their positions were reversed, phisto knew that if he were nearing death, he would definitely drag an enemy down with him.

Taking soone with him would be worth it no matter what.

That was the most troubleso part.

He dared neither provoke the Ancient One nor casually step onto Earth, yet now a monstrous genius like Matthew had appeared.

Which ant that unless sothing unexpected happened, the Ancient One would undoubtedly protect Matthew and ensure his smooth growth before her own death.

For the first ti, phisto suddenly realized he was helpless against Matthew.

Even his precious son had been captured.

However…

phisto narrowed his eyes.

Compared to himself, the one who should be far more anxious right now was probably Dormammu, the ruler of the Dark Dinsion currently opposing the Ancient One.

"Perhaps… I can give things a little push."

A sly, calculating smile slowly spread across phisto's face.

…

The blazing sun shone down upon the completely flattened remains of Saint Michael Cetery.

"OK, we've got trouble."

Standing before the enormous bottomless fissure that stretched for thousands of ters, a middle-aged white man in a suit removed his sunglasses and leaned forward for a closer look. Then he shrugged toward the burly man behind him.

Besides the two of them, the entire area had been surrounded by a large number of personnel. Cordons were set up, and transport trucks and excavators kicked up large clouds of dust.

"Quite spectacular, Coulson."

The burly man, dressed in a simple T-shirt, a red leather vest, and jeans, raised a hand to shield his eyes while surveying the area with a sigh of amazent.

The entire area looked as though it had been bombarded by countless teors. Craters of all sizes covered the land, especially the massive crack stretching thousands of ters into the distance with no visible end in sight.

There was absolutely no way modern human weaponry could have caused this.

Whether it had been so supernatural phenonon or truly man-made, it represented one thing:

Trouble.

"That's exactly why I said we've got trouble, Clint."

Coulson really didn't feel like complaining, but he genuinely felt helpless right now.

Ever since his worldview had been shattered once back in the 1990s, he had carried out countless bizarre missions, yet none of them had ever felt as difficult as this one.

Coulson could clearly feel his heart beating abnormally fast, while an indescribable fear lingered in his chest.

He was an agent—a top-tier agent.

Years of fieldwork had trained him to control his emotions perfectly, including fear and panic.

He had once gone undercover and endured enemy torture during interrogation, yet even under physical tornt, he had never truly felt fear.

But now, rely standing here, he could feel it.

That alone was enough to prove that sothing unimaginable and far beyond normal understanding had happened here last night.

"How do you feel, Clint?"

"Terrible. I feel like throwing up."

Clint's expression was equally unpleasant. If Coulson could sense it, then naturally he could too.

That lingering terrifying aura didn't affect the body.

It affected the mind and will itself.

Clint was certain that if an ordinary cowardly person stood here, they would probably wet themselves on the spot.

"That's why this is actually the best place for us to talk." Coulson pulled the earpiece from his ear and waved it toward Clint. Static and chaotic noise crackled endlessly from within.

"There's so kind of abnormal magnetic field here?"

Clint understood imdiately. His gaze casually swept across the surroundings. In the distance, agents were hard at work excavating the ground, clearing debris, establishing watch posts, and setting up equipnt.

"Two completely different types of energy collided here, resulting in long-term magnetic interference and a total loss of signal."

"The big guy above us can only capture blurry images." Coulson pointed upward with his sunglasses.

"OK… so the situation's worse than I thought."

Suppressing the fear in his heart, Clint frowned deeply.

The fact that two agents were forced to communicate like this already spoke volus about how serious the situation was.

"That's right. Director Fury authorized an internal investigation. Even though they hid themselves well, we've confird one thing."

"There's a major problem inside our organization."

Coulson deliberately positioned himself at an angle beside Clint.

The positioning itself was carefully chosen—it allowed both of them to keep their backs toward the distant agents while facing the open wasteland ahead.

...

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