If it were possible, Nick Fury would never want to be this submissive. But the problem was... he truly had no more cards to play!
Captain Arica was no match for Peter. As for Captain Marvel? That cosmic powerhouse only returned to Earth when the planet faced an existential threat.
And was Peter an existential threat? The answer was a definitive no. If Carol Danvers realized Fury had summoned her across galaxies just to deal with a teenager, she'd likely blast Fury himself.
So, Fury was out of moves. He had already begun considering "sacrificing the pawn to save the king." He glanced subtly at General Ross, thinking that if Peter refused to budge, Ross would just have to suffer for the sake of the country.
Almost as if reading his mind, Peter's voice rang out like heavenly music:
"Are you certain you want and my friends to stay here at any cost? Any condition at all?"
"Yes, any condition! As long as it's within my jurisdiction, I promise to get it done perfectly," Fury declared, thumping his chest.
"Good~!" Peter looked at Fury with a aningful expression. "Since you've put it that way, I'll give you one last chance!"
Peter held up three fingers again.
"Agree to three conditions. Not only will I stay, but I'll also personally restore the entirety of Brooklyn. You should know how much money that would save you."
Seeing those familiar three fingers, Fury felt a surge of joy. He assud Peter would ask for things like identity protection or family security—standard stuff. He was already calculating the "profit" of restoring Brooklyn for such a small price.
Then Peter spoke:
"First point: I want him, right now, imdiately, to get on his knees and apologize to . Then, I want his rank of General stripped away permanently."
Peter's finger pointed straight at General Ross.
Ross, who had been internally mocking Fury's cowardice, felt his face turn the color of pig liver. He trembled with pure rage. Making a three-star General kneel to a brat? That was a fate worse than death!
In stark contrast, the others looked on with awe. Tony thought, Damn, kid, you really are sothing! You just said exactly what I've wanted to say for years but never dared to.
Fury, anwhile, almost burst out laughing. Perfect! That's exactly the kind of condition he should ask for! Maybe now the military will stop complaining to the President that S.H.I.E.L.D. takes all the funding and does nothing. Peter, keep 'em coming!
Fury put on a troubled face, holding back a smirk for a long ti before "gritting his teeth":
"I cannot make that decision personally, but if it will appease your anger, I will report your demands to the President and Congress imdiately..."
Snap!
Peter's eyes lit up. "Wonderful, Fury! You just reminded —why am I talking to you? I should be talking to the President directly!"
Fury: "???"
"Sir Arbiter, let's not joke. The President is extrely busy; at this hour, he's already res—"
Peter cut him off. "I don't care about his schedule. Just tell : can you get a direct line to the President or not?"
"This..." Sweat began to bead on Fury's forehead.
"Tony, let's go!" Seeing Fury hesitate, Peter turned to leave.
"Fine! I agree!" Fury practically roared the words.
"Fuck! Are you insane?!" General Ross completely lost his composure, screaming at Fury.
Fury's face turned icy at the insult. "General Ross, look around you. Can you swear on your stars, on the Presidents of the past, and on God himself that tonight's destruction has nothing to do with you? If the Arbiter leaves and Brooklyn remains a ruin, you wouldn't be able to keep that uniform anyway!"
Ross turned red and white, speechless with fury. Right then, a female voice rang out from behind them:
"Father, they're right! If it weren't for your stubbornness, Sergeant Blonsky wouldn't have beco a monster, and Bruce wouldn't be unconscious. This entire tragedy is your fault!"
Everyone turned to see Betty Ross, still cradling Banner.
The atmosphere beca incredibly awkward. Talk about peak family "loyalty"! General Ross was so enraged that he coughed up a bit of blood and began to collapse.
Just before he hit the dirt, a flash of white light enveloped him. Ross opened his eyes to see Peter offering a "kind" smile:
"Where do you think you're going, old man? You're kneeling today even if Jesus himself tries to stop you. I said it!"
Ross felt his vision go dark, but thanks to the Horse Talisman's forced healing, he found he couldn't even faint if he wanted to.
Ten minutes later, a laptop was placed in front of Peter. On the screen was the face of the current President of the United States.
Due to the world's changes, it wasn't a face Peter recognized from his previous life, but the man had clearly been briefed and had weighed the pros and cons.
"Mr. Arbiter," the President said solemnly, "if you are willing to continue protecting Arica and restore Brooklyn, I will imdiately strip General Ross of his rank and command him to apologize to you."
Ross, who had just been helped up by Rhodey, slumped back into the dirt. He seed to age ten years in an instant.
Decades of hard work and status, gone in a single breath. Not to ntion the humiliation of kneeling to an eighteen-year-old...
If Peter hadn't pre-emptively healed his body, the old man likely would have had a stroke on the spot.
However, in a corner where no one was looking, another man wore a look of profound disappointnt: Steve Rogers.
Captain Arica was, at his core, a soldier. Seeing the President trade a General's dignity for political and financial gain—even if Ross deserved it—sent a chill through Steve's heart.
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