Mystic Cultivator Rise of the Superworld

SHIELD Operatives

Across the street from Ling’s Pharmacy, a man and a woman sat in a sleek black car, binoculars in hand, scanning the shop. Both dressed in all black, faces serious, trained to the point of perfection—clearly government operatives.

When Gan Jing pulled down the aluminum rolling shutter, the white guy in the driver’s seat leaned toward his Asian partner. “Melinda, what’s going on in there? Why the sudden closure? Did they spot us?”

Melinda shot him a glare. “If anyone got spotted, it’s because of you. My tracking skills aren’t that bad.”

With that, she reached into the back seat and pulled out a silver case. A black circular emblem was etched into the center—a black eagle encircled by the words: Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.

She opened the case and lifted a silver disc, twisting a knob underneath. In an instant, the base went completely transparent. Holding it up, she aimed at the pharmacy. The disc flickered, and three figures materialized inside it. They were walking up to the second floor, then sitting on the couch. One reached out with his left hand; another pressed a hand against his pulse.

After a moment, Melinda lowered the disc. “It’s fine, Coulson. Don’t sweat it. That’s the shop’s doctor checking Bruce Banner’s pulse. No sign of him running, and definitely no clue about us.”

Bruce Banner—full name Robert Bruce Banner—also known as the Hulk. The same Banner who’d just torn up New York City had originally been leaving the U.S., but somehow changed his course, ending up at this nondescript clinic outside L.A.

Coulson and Melinda were Level 7 SHIELD agents. Phil Coulson was Director Nick Fury’s right-hand man, highly trusted, with top-tier organizational and operational skills. Melinda May, a seasoned soldier, spy, fighter, and pilot, was an Asian-American recruited by Peggy Carter at seven—nicknamed “The Cavalry.”

Fury had sent them to escort Banner out of the U.S., tracking him from New York to L.A. But no one expected Banner’s destination to be an ordinary Chinese medicine clinic.

“By the way, why did Fury send you to find me? You know I haven’t done field work in years!” Melinda asked, eyes sharp on Coulson.

Coulson hesitated, then said, “You know Hulk’s situation is huge. Military and intelligence are tracking Banner. If he gets provoked, it could be a full-on disaster—maybe even half a city. Since Hill’s tied up, Natasha and Barton have their own ops, they sent me to get you.”

“Huh… really?” Melinda couldn’t shake the feeling Coulson wasn’t telling the full story.

“Anyway, how have you been?” Coulson shifted.

“Fine. Living alone suits me,” she said flatly.

“I know what happened back then hit you hard, but I hope you can shake it off. Sometimes, handling things solo feels… impossible.” Coulson’s voice carried a rare weight. He’d noticed little mistakes cropping up in recent ops, not just his but also Garrett’s and others. Nothing catastrophic, but enough to set off alarm bells.

Back on Barren Island, Melinda had shot a girl to save the operatives and herself—a solo act hailed as heroic. Yet, killing a child left a lasting shadow on her conscience. Afterward, she divorced and left field work for desk duty. This was her first return to field ops in years, and temporary at that.

“You’re in a better place now,” Melinda said, a trace of meaning in her gaze. “When we were partners, we did field ops. Now, you’re Fury’s right-hand man. Even Natasha and Barton have to follow your lead sometimes.”

Coulson flushed. “Hey, that’s not…” Truth be told, Fury valued Coulson immensely—sometimes he even acted as Maria Hill’s assistant, coordinating Natasha and Barton. Of course, Coulson sometimes pulled his own little moves—but Melinda knew all of them. She was proud to see she still had his number.

At that moment, Coulson’s phone buzzed three times, breaking the tension. He glanced at it, frowned, and said, “L.A. passed along some intel on Ling’s Pharmacy… interesting.”

“Interesting?” Melinda raised an eyebrow. It was just a small pharmacy—what could be interesting?

Coulson leaned in. “The real issue isn’t the shop, it’s the owner—a Chinese guy named Celestian.”

His memory kicked in, training sharpening his mind. “Born October 1986, L.A., St. Mary’s Hospital. Parents killed in gang violence when he was three. Sent to an orphanage. And, Mel, do you know who sponsored that orphanage?”

“Who?” Melinda had a hunch.

“Peggy Carter,” Coulson said, exhaling.

“I see,” Melinda nodded. Carter, founder of SHIELD, had long since retired but still funded charities. L.A. had been part of her field history—sponsoring an orphanage was normal. She’d even recruited talent from there for the SHIELD Academy. Melinda and her brother had worked under Carter back then.

“Here’s the kicker,” Coulson continued. “Banner showing up here means Celestian’s not your average guy. By eighteen, he’d earned a scholarship to CSU L.A., moved out of the local Chinese gang area, inexplicably took over the previous owner’s property, and ran this pharmacy while studying.” Coulson’s eyes gleamed with a rare amusement.