Alvin rubbed his chin and grinned at Coulson. "I think $1 million is a reasonable figure."
Coulson clutched his chest as if struck by a heavy blow. "You're joking, Mr. Ye. SHIELD would never pay $1 million for this."
"Absolutely impossible. In fact, I was prepared to pay out of my own pocket. But Mr. Ye, $1 million is terrifying. That's ten years of my salary."
Alvin ignored Coulson's sympathy-seeking performance and said coldly, "Are you saying SHIELD's reputation isn't worth $1 million?"
"Maybe you should call and ask. I'm not interested in your salary. Or we can just settle this in court."
Beside them, Foggy jumped excitedly, shouting, "Alvin, sue them! Sue them!"
No wonder he was so worked up—this was the biggest case their law firm had ever landed since opening.
Coulson shot Natasha a helpless glare before stepping into a corner to make a call. Clearly, the call earned him quite the scolding.
Hanging up, Coulson returned to the counter looking disheveled. "500k. Not a cent more. I'll have to file over 15 reports for this. If you don't agree, we'll see you in court." He grabbed the glass on the counter and downed the beer in one gulp, looking utterly defeated.
Alvin glanced at Matt's subtly shaking finger and knew Coulson was lying. After a moment's thought, he said, "Agent Coulson, that number is still way below my expectations." He shot Foggy a look.
Foggy caught on immediately and sprang up. "Leave it to me, Alvin! This is a guaranteed win. I can push the compensation past $3 million!"
"That's impossible! SHIELD doesn't have that kind of spare funding. You'll just drag this case out indefinitely," Coulson protested in panic. "Mr. Ye, I can apologize again. Please reconsider."
"A drawn-out lawsuit doesn't bother me, Agent Coulson," Alvin said indifferently. "But… it's not set in stone. I could accept $500k—if SHIELD agrees to a few conditions."
Coulson tensed at the word "conditions," feeling like he was about to board a pirate ship. But with no other choice, he steeled himself. "Go ahead. No promises."
Alvin counted on his fingers. "First, this precinct's equipment is outdated. They need upgrades. Look at Michael—he's still using a decade-old rifle."
"They're not picky. Even your decommissioned vehicles, weapons, and gear would do. Free sponsorship. Don't worry—they'll write the mayor praising SHIELD."
Michael and Scott were stunned. Alvin's first demand was for them. The two cops were touched. City Hall had all but forgotten their precinct—beyond annual budget approvals for salaries, upgrades, promotions, and raises were nonexistent.
Their rundown precinct didn't even have a proper front gate. That Alvin's first condition was for them… how could they not be moved?
Coulson gave Alvin a puzzled look. He'd braced for something outrageous, but this was unexpected. Relieved, he nodded. "Done." SHIELD phased out equipment yearly, and as a Level 7 agent, he had the authority to approve this.
Seeing his quick agreement, Alvin smiled. "Glad we're on the same page. Second, the new kindergarten on our street corner needs security surveillance equipment. I'm sure that's no problem for SHIELD."
Coulson exhaled deeply, glancing around. The restaurant's patrons were all looking at Alvin with admiration.
Straightening his collar, Coulson said earnestly, "You're a true gentleman. Let me reintroduce myself—Phil Coulson, SHIELD Level 7 Agent. A pleasure, Mr. Alvin Ye." He extended his hand for a firm shake, the sting of extortion fading slightly.
Alvin grinned. "So you agree?"
"Yes. Compared to other demands, this barely counts as a condition," Coulson replied solemnly.
"Third—and most important." Alvin's expression hardened as he locked eyes with Coulson.
"Go ahead." Coulson leaned in attentively.
Alvin gestured toward Natasha. "I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your distance from me and my restaurant from now on. Understood?"
Coulson stiffened, caught between embarrassment and offense. Just as he'd begun warming up to the man, Alvin had sucker-punched him.
He'd hoped for a peaceful resolution. No such luck. Sighing, Coulson said, "I can't make guarantees. Only that we won't trouble you without cause."
Alvin nodded. "That'll do. Foggy—handle the $500k transfer with Agent Coulson." He beckoned Foggy over.
"Hope we never meet again, Agents Coulson and Romanoff." Alvin gave them a curt nod, effectively dismissing them.
Foggy exchanged contacts with Coulson to finalize the compensation. Jessica cheerfully ushered the agents out, mimicking Alvin's tone: "Hope we never meet again!"
As the SHIELD agents retreated from the restaurant, the patrons erupted into applause. These Hell's Kitchen residents had never gotten respect from government suits—yet Alvin had just wrung victory from them. Their triumph felt personal.
Alvin called to Jessica, "A round of beers—on me!" The cheers grew louder.
He placed a beer before Matt, flicking the glass with a ping. "Thanks, Matt. You saved my skin today."
Matt lifted his drink with a smile. "You earned it, Alvin. You've made these blocks safer. As a Hell's Kitchen resident, I'm glad to help. To victory!"
Alvin clinked glasses. "To victory!" After downing his beer, he studied Matt's flushed face with concern. "You should rest. You're not made of steel. Jumping rooftops nightly isn't exactly… normal."
Matt set down his empty glass, his pale skin unnaturally flushed. "Then tell your pets to patrol farther. Might lighten my workload."