“An envoy from headquarters? Already?”

Rowan raised his brows in surprise.

He hadn’t expected the envoy from the Global Dojo Headquarters to arrive so soon. He thought they would wait until he had completed the actual combat assessment.

“Haha, you thought they’d wait for you to pass the combat trial first, didn’t you?” Director Norris chuckled. “No need for that anymore. Once headquarters confirmed your awakening as a Mind Adept, they approved you to bypass the assessment altogether.”

“I’m exempt?” Rowan blinked.

“Yep. All Mind Adepts are automatically classified as at least Advanced Warrior-level. That trial is meant for beginners facing low-tier beasts. It wouldn’t challenge you at all. Headquarters saw no point.”

“Makes sense,” Rowan nodded thoughtfully.

Considering his current strength, that trial would be a complete one-sided massacre. If he showed up and wiped out all the entry-level beasts solo, it’d just be awkward.

“Stay home tomorrow morning,” Director Norris reminded him. “The envoy will arrive by jet to pick you up.”

“Got it.”

After hanging up, Rowan felt a mix of excitement and anticipation.

For one, he was finally about to enter the Elite Training Camp. And more importantly, he could finally hand over the Extremis Virus formula to the dojo safely.

There was no way he’d risk sending that kind of dangerous tech through local channels. Only a trusted envoy from the headquarters could guarantee secure delivery.

As a future trainee of the Elite Camp, the envoy was obligated to ensure his safety.

Rowan wrapped up his training for the day and headed into the shower. Afterward, he told his assistant, Zhou Ping, not to leave the villa, then returned to the Marvel world.

“Boss, a package just arrived for you.”

As soon as he stepped out of his office, the company’s receptionist handed him a sealed box.

Rowan nodded, accepted the parcel, and left the building.

Once in the car, he opened the package and found inside: an M17/18 sidearm, a reinforced M14 battle rifle, and several grenades.

He ignored the weapons for the moment and pulled out a folded note from the bottom of the box.

One line was written on it:

“Three days from now. Salva Mega Dock, West African coast. Someone will meet you.”

Rowan smirked.

This was clearly from Ulysses Klaue.

In the films, Klaue had always operated around the African coast. The location seemed legit.

“Three days, huh…”

He couldn’t help but get excited at the thought of all that vibranium Klaue supposedly had stashed.

Brrrring…

Just as he was leaving the supermarket with groceries, his phone buzzed.

He used telekinesis to float it from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID.

“Coulson?”

Surprised, Rowan answered. “Hey, Coulson.”

“Hey! Just got back from New Mexico. You still owe me that hotpot dinner.”

“Haha, perfect timing. I picked up plenty of ingredients today. We can do it tonight.”

“Awesome. I’m already in the lobby. Come grab me when you’re ready.”

“On my way.”

Rowan hung up with a small smile.

So Coulson was back.

He drove to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and entered the main lobby, where he spotted Coulson right away though the agent wasn’t alone.

Coulson was animatedly circling a tall, blond man, chatting away like an eager fanboy.

“Captain, I’ve been a fan since I was a kid. I know all your missions, your history look! These are my limited-edition collector’s cards…”

Rowan came closer to see Coulson showing off a small stack of trading cards to none other than Steve Rogers.

He chuckled inwardly. Coulson was well into his thirties, yet right now, he looked like a nine-year-old meeting his childhood hero.

Then again, who could blame him? Steve Rogers was the living legend kids grew up idolizing.

“Coulson,” Rowan called, drawing his attention.

“Rowan!” Coulson turned.

“Captain Rogers,” Rowan gave a respectful nod to the super-soldier, who returned it with polite grace.

“I was planning to host a hotpot dinner for Coulson,” Rowan offered. “Would you like to join us? Agent Hill and Natasha are already at the apartment.”

Steve hesitated briefly, then nodded. “Sure.”

He didn’t have many friends left from his time, and even though he was slowly adapting to modern life, it still felt lonely. Rowan had invited him once before declining again would seem distant. Plus, he’d been curious about hotpot after reading about it online.

“Let’s go, then.”

Rowan led them to the private apartment upstairs.

As soon as they entered, Natasha, curled up on the couch in a purple silk nightgown, glanced over.

“You’re back?” she asked casually.

“Yeah…” Rowan paused mid-step.

With his enhanced vision, he immediately noticed that Natasha wasn’t wearing a bra.

Seriously? Was this her way of teasing him after their last sparring match?

“Natasha Coulson’s here. And so is Cap.”

“Wait, what?!” Natasha froze, then quickly turned and noticed the two men behind Rowan.

Without a word, she gasped, jumped up barefoot, and bolted into the bedroom. She didn’t even stop to grab slippers.

Rowan chuckled softly.

She definitely knew what she was or wasn’t wearing.

“What was that about?” Coulson asked, confused.

“She probably didn’t want you to see her in pajamas,” Rowan shrugged.

Steve and Coulson stepped in and changed into slippers. Steve glanced around the modest apartment, visibly surprised.

He’d heard that Rowan was a CEO of a major company, yet he still lived in a simple place like this? And wasn’t Natasha a top-tier field agent? What was she doing living here too?

The more he saw, the more intrigued he became.

Coulson, on the other hand, was already comfortable here he’d mooched plenty of meals off Rowan before.

While Rowan got to work preparing the broth and ingredients, Coulson continued gushing to Steve about his greatest missions.

Soon, Natasha reappeared dressed this time and made small talk before slipping into the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” she said.

Rowan turned as the kitchen door shut. “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m here to help cook.”

“Do I look like I need help?” He gestured with his chin toward the hovering utensils and neatly prepped ingredients courtesy of his telekinesis.

“Well, maybe the chef needs a little encouragement,” she murmured.

“Encouragement?”

Before Rowan could respond, Natasha suddenly reached up on tiptoe, hooked an arm around his neck, and pulled him into a kiss.

His eyes widened in shock.

What the—? Coulson and Steve were just outside!

Her kiss was a little clumsy. As Rowan instinctively raised a hand to hold her waist, she abruptly pulled back with a sly twist, dodging his touch.

“All right carry on, Chef,” she said lightly, then darted out of the kitchen.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep