Yasuo in Marvel - Chapter 5
Yasuo had just woken up when two customers arrived. Maybe he could make up for last night’s losses with them.
With half a year’s experience selling knives, Yasuo had mastered the proper sales techniques. He had learned from his past life, where he had seen countless sales techniques on television.
“Hey, what can I help you with? I can introduce you to some of my products. All my knives are made of pure steel, durable and practical. And I can share some secrets with you, but promise me not to spread it around—it could bring me unnecessary trouble!”
As Coulson and Melinda were examining the shop, Yasuo, with a smile, walked over and put his arm around Coulson’s shoulder, looking mysterious as if revealing some big secret.
Coulson and Melinda’s curiosity was piqued by Yasuo’s demeanor.
Could this mutant really have some big secret?
“Let me tell you, all my knives are made of pure steel and are rare types imported from China. Yes, you heard that right, from the mysterious East. Look at these designs—don’t they appeal to the Eastern aesthetic?” Yasuo said, lowering his voice when mentioning the mysterious East. If they were ordinary American customers, they might be intrigued by the rarity and ask more about the magical Eastern knives.
However, S.H.I.E.L.D. senior agents Coulson and Melinda, having traveled the world for missions and being familiar with various cultures, weren’t intrigued by a mere mention of the mysterious East.
Seeing no curiosity from the two, Yasuo’s smile became awkward. Why weren’t they following the script?
“Well, let me tell you, these knives are handcrafted by Eastern master craftsmen and blessed by Eastern monks. If you sincerely take them home, these mysterious Eastern knives can not only protect your household and health but also cut through stone and iron like tofu.”
Melinda casually picked up a watermelon knife (yes, the kind used to cut watermelons in summer) from a corner: “Does pure steel rust?”
Yasuo, without a hint of embarrassment, took the knife from her: “No, no, no, you’re mistaken. This isn’t rust; these are battle scars. This knife has seen action on the battlefield.”
Melinda responded flatly, “Oh, knives can get injured? That’s a terrible excuse. No one will believe such nonsense.”
Yasuo earnestly replied, “You’re wrong. Knives can get injured. All knives have souls.”
Coulson couldn’t hold back anymore: “Boss, can’t you tell Melinda is also Asian? Your Eastern spiel doesn’t work on us.”
Yasuo looked surprised, scrutinizing Melinda closely.
Oh! Damn, I was so tired I didn’t notice one of my customers was Asian.
“Alright, let’s skip the mysterious East. Let me show you the quality of my knives.” Yasuo, unfazed by the failure of his first attempt, confidently went to the back room, returning with an ordinary stone and a small iron block.
Melinda and Coulson each took one, feeling and examining them. They nodded to each other, confirming the items were genuine stone and iron.
They placed the items down, signaling Yasuo to proceed.
“My knives have one true feature: if you sincerely use them, they can perform miracles,” Yasuo said mysteriously.
Holding the rusty watermelon knife, Yasuo made a single swift motion.
First, the stone was cut in half, then the iron block was split down the middle. Yasuo’s watermelon knife remained intact, without even a chipped edge.
Usually, after such a demonstration, customers would exclaim in amazement and pay whatever they could to take the knife home. Once they left, Yasuo would think, “Sorry, once the knife leaves the store, any issues are not my responsibility. No returns. If it doesn’t cut well for you, it’s because you weren’t sincere in using it, and the knife chose to die!”
But Melinda and Coulson were different from Yasuo’s usual customers. They weren’t surprised by his stone-splitting and iron-cutting performance.
They had seen wind tornadoes created with a sword. Cutting stone and iron was nothing special.
Melinda looked at Coulson and said, “First impression?”
“Possible scammer with a sense of humor and thick skin?” Coulson replied seriously.
“Agreed. Shameless and humorous fits well. First impression is good. Let’s move to the second stage,” Melinda said.
“Alright, Mr. Yasuo, thanks for the demonstration. We have some matters to discuss with you. Could you close your shop for a bit? This conversation might change the rest of your life,” Coulson said, now with a serious expression, adopting a strict agent persona.
Yasuo was surprised they knew his name. Thoughts raced through his mind: Hydra? S.H.I.E.L.D.? Mutants?
However, Yasuo’s keen sense didn’t detect any hostility from them. He decided to follow their lead and hear them out.
Yasuo walked to the door, closed it, and turned back. “Alright, what do you need from me? I’m just a poor orphan in a residential area. Shouldn’t be anything for the government to worry about. Is selling knives illegal in the U.S.?”
“You’re a smart person. Don’t ask foolish questions,” Melinda said.
“Alright, follow me.” Yasuo led them to his bedroom, sitting on the bed. “Now, what do you want to say?”
Yasuo realized these well-dressed people must be from a government agency, like the CIA or FBI. He was confident he hadn’t done anything wrong, thinking it might be about the gangs. He never considered that S.H.I.E.L.D. would be interested in him, as street heroes were common in Marvel, and he was keeping a low profile.
“I’m Melinda May, a senior agent of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. This is my partner, Phil Coulson,” Melinda introduced herself.
Before she finished, Yasuo started coughing violently.
“Cough…cough, sorry…cough…cough,” Yasuo was caught off guard by the long name of ‘Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division’, choking on his saliva.
The full name of S.H.I.E.L.D. encompasses everything from world destruction to street fights and parking violations. Why would they be interested in him? He didn’t think he had anything that would catch their attention.
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