Marvel: You Call This A Sorcerer?

So soon?

Ronan wasn't surprised at all by Phil Coulson's sudden appearance.

What surprised him was that Coulson actually had the courage to come find him.

Looks like someone who has faced death is indeed different.

Ronan had to admire that fearless spirit.

"You head home first. I'll go see what's going on."

"Just remember to let me know the time. I need to go home and freshen up."

Ronan patted Gwen Stacy on the arm.

He had already made up his mind—whether he extended or retracted his neck, it was still going to be the same blade. Might as well clarify everything once and for all.

I really have nothing going on with your daughter!

Just a little holding, hugging, and kissing.

Really, nothing more than that!

After seeing Gwen off, Ronan walked straight towards the bright red retro car.

Without waiting for Phil Coulson to invite him, he opened the passenger door, got in, and shut it.

"What's the big deal this time, boss?"

Ronan looked at Phil Coulson with a bit of exasperation.

This guy, being one of Nick Fury's most trusted agents, was supposed to eventually take over S.H.I.E.L.D.

Of course, by that time, S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to be a complete mess.

"Nothing much, just wanted to confirm some things with you."

"Last night's incident—that was you... no, I mean, that was the work of the Sorcerer, wasn't it?"

Phil Coulson smiled as he asked.

"Who else could it be?"

"There were so many of you, each armed with deadly weapons—I couldn't have done it."

Ronan spread his hands, giving an answer readily.

After all, he had left a message with his clone, so admitting it now wasn't an issue.

"How did you know it was our people?"

Phil Coulson looked surprised.

"Come on, boss. You just talked to me at noon, and by nightfall, someone tried to kidnap me."

"If it wasn't you, who else could it be?"

"I'm not stupid, my brain works just fine. Asking me this question—isn't that looking down on me?"

Ronan sighed, giving Coulson a look that seemed to say, "You're an idiot."

Phil Coulson was momentarily speechless.

He had only thought about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s meticulous ways, forgetting that the person before him wasn't an idiot.

No, to be precise, anyone with normal intelligence would suspect them.

"Fine, all I can say is that every organization has its factions."

"You must understand, some things are just not that simple."

Phil Coulson looked at Ronan helplessly.

His original plan was to have a proper chat with Ronan—maybe once they got closer, Ronan might share some useful intel.

But now, it seemed that things were completely different.

They had kidnapped Ronan and his girlfriend, making them the villains in Ronan's eyes.

And from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s perspective, the Sorcerer had killed one of their teams—coexisting peacefully was no longer possible.

So, now it was an unresolvable conflict.

"Ha."

"Your so-called factions have bound me completely to that man."

"If I die, nothing happens to him. If he dies, I die."

"So, I have you to thank for that."

A mocking smile appeared on Ronan's face.

"What do you mean?"

Phil Coulson's face changed; he was particularly sensitive to the word "die" now.

And Ronan's words sounded way too alarming.

Seeing Coulson's reaction, Ronan couldn't help but give himself a mental thumbs-up.

His acting skills were really shining through!

"Because of those so-called other factions of yours, I was forced—like Tony Stark—to summon the Sorcerer."

"And as a result, I now bear his mark."

With that, Ronan extended his right hand, revealing a very complex pattern on the back of his hand.

The pattern glowed with golden light, causing Coulson to squint involuntarily.

He couldn't make out the details of the pattern.

"See that?"

"That's the price of uttering his true name."

"From now on, anyone who speaks his name will become his vassal. If he dies, you will die too."

"If you don't believe me, you can ask Tony Stark. He should have the same mark on his hand."

Ronan retracted his hand, a sneer on his face.

Hearing this, Coulson opened his mouth several times, wanting to say something, but eventually stopped.

In a way, their appearance had deprived Ronan of control over his own life.

Just considering that, it was already impressive that Ronan was sitting here today.

"I'm sorry, this kind of thing..."

Phil Coulson was just about to apologize when Ronan, sitting opposite him, suddenly underwent a drastic transformation.

Ronan, who had been leaning against his seat, abruptly stiffened. His naturally relaxed arms suddenly moved like a marionette being pulled.

In no time, his arched back began to lean backward in a strange manner.

His limbs started trembling erratically.

Crack, crack.

Phil Coulson could clearly hear various bones cracking from Ronan's body.

"What's happening to you?"

"Hold on, I'll get you to a hospital right now!"

Coulson reached out to hold Ronan steady, but, to his surprise, he was pushed back with great force.

The impact threw him heavily against the car door.

Visible cracks formed on the inside of the door.

However, Coulson no longer cared about his car because, at that moment, Ronan seemed like a completely different person!

Whether it was his demeanor or the expression on his face, everything was different from before!

"Ronan, you..."

Phil Coulson swallowed hard, his left hand already reaching for the nearby gun.

However, before he could properly grip it, his wrist was suddenly wracked with pain.

The next moment, the gun was in the other person's hand.

"Sigh."

"Did you really think that holding this thing would be any threat to me?"

Ronan's face showed a hint of exasperation as he disassembled the gun right in front of Coulson.

He didn't dismantle it systematically—he did it according to his own whims.

Regardless, there was no way Coulson could reassemble that gun again.

Seeing his service weapon turned into mere parts, Coulson couldn't help but take a deep breath.

What on earth was this?

No, wait—this wasn't human!

"By the way, didn't Steve Rogers and Tony Stark tell you guys how strong I am?"

"Although I was only around for a few minutes, they should have a pretty good idea of my power, right?"

"And also, I even paid your headquarters a little visit."

"Almost broke your boss's third leg, yet none of you seem to learn your lesson."

Ronan casually threw the parts aside, giving Coulson a strange look.

At that moment, he wasn't the high school student Ronan.

He was Sorcerer Ronan, the villain.

His acting skills, this seamless transition between personas, were something those TV stars could only dream of.

"Phew."

"I can't influence the higher-ups' decisions—I'm just a grunt."

Coulson didn't even know how to respond to Ronan.

Could he say his boss was out of his mind?

Obviously not.

More importantly, Coulson himself didn't understand why the higher-ups had made such a decision.

It was obvious they couldn't provoke the other side—why provoke them?

"A grunt?"

"I don't think so."

"Someone like you, someone who survived death, can't be just a grunt."

Ronan smiled as he looked at Coulson, exposing his biggest secret.

"Maybe I was lucky—barely hanging onto life."

Coulson sighed.

Little did he know that what Ronan was talking about wasn't what he thought.

"Seems like you still don't know the truth."

"Have you never wondered if your return really had no issues?"

Ronan waved his right hand lightly, and the car's windshield transformed into a movie screen.

On the screen played the scene where Coulson was killed by Loki.

Watching the "familiar" scene once again, Coulson's face showed a bitter smile.

"Why must I relive these painful memories?"

Coulson rubbed his face, recalling the scene from back then.

He couldn't even understand why he had the courage to try to stop Loki.

"No, no, no, you're missing my point."

"Back then, you were actually dead."

"In every sense, you were dead."

"Now, you could be considered yourself, but also not yourself."

"Someone used some strange means to recall your soul to this body."

"Haven't you ever felt that this body doesn't quite align with your will?"

Ronan grinned as he stared at Coulson, revealing the thing that had been bothering him the most.

Indeed, since waking up, Coulson had always felt something was off.

But no matter how many checkups he had or how much he thought about it, he couldn't find anything wrong.

It had led him to believe he was just overthinking it.

But now, Ronan had revealed an answer that shook him to his core.

"Do you know something?"

Coulson took a deep breath, his voice filled with urgency.

"I only see issues concerning your soul—I don't know the specifics."

"If I were you, I'd investigate S.H.I.E.L.D. from within."

"Cases like yours, dying and coming back, shouldn't be too many, and their secrecy must be high, right?"

The reason Ronan said this was that he vaguely remembered Coulson attempting to retrieve his medical records around this time in the TV series.

But the response he got was that his clearance level was insufficient.

Bear in mind, Coulson held Level 8 clearance.

If an ordinary medical record couldn't be accessed even with Level 8 clearance, what kind of secret could it hold?

"So why are you telling me all this?"

Coulson looked at Ronan with a complicated expression, not understanding why he was saying all this.

Ronan, however, simply smiled.

"Since your boss wants to make my life difficult, why should I let him have it easy?"

"I'll give you another secret."

This time, a wicked smile spread across Ronan's lips.

"What secret?"

Coulson looked at Ronan, puzzled.

He couldn't figure out why Ronan would be kind enough to share a secret.

"Last night, when I dealt with those 'other faction' people, I accidentally overheard something."

"Hail Hydra."

"I imagine you'd be very interested in that phrase."

Finally, Ronan had revealed his true intentions.

For S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, that phrase was more terrifying than a bomb.

If Ronan weren't known to be unaffiliated with Hydra, Coulson might have hit the panic button in the car.

Of course, it wasn't like he could beat Ronan.

"And I didn't just hear it from one of them."

"They all shouted that phrase as they were dying."

"If they really were Hydra, how did they pass the screening to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Ronan, of course, knew that those people could never have shouted that phrase before they died.

But that didn't stop him from spinning a story.

All he wanted was to stir the pot, to cast suspicion on Nick Fury.

The rest had nothing to do with him.

"Is what you're saying true?"

This time, Coulson's expression grew incredibly serious.

"Believe it or not, I've said what I needed to say."

"And now, I'm done talking."

"Remember to help my little bro get home."

After saying that, Ronan didn't wait for Coulson to respond and once again performed the "transformation" from before.

When the transformation was complete, Ronan turned back into his "innocent" teenage self.

Ronan looked at Coulson helplessly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Do you believe me now?"

Coulson didn't know how to answer.

After all, the other guy had just dropped a major bombshell on him.

"Alright then. Since he's explained everything to you, I won't say much more."

"Take me home—consider it your payment for learning such a big secret."

"I'm very busy tonight, after all!"

After dropping off Ronan, Phil Coulson returned to his plane.

This team, which Coulson had meticulously chosen, was one that suited his needs.

The only thing that didn't seem right was his body.

Especially after what Ronan had said to him a few hours earlier.

Hydra, resurrection...

Each one of these things was like a bombshell.

He couldn't handle any of them.

Thinking of this, Coulson suddenly remembered something else Ronan had said earlier.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

The call quickly connected, and Coulson took a deep breath and made his request.

After verifying his identity and giving his passcode, Coulson got an answer he hadn't expected.

"Sorry, sir, you don't have clearance to access this file."

Hearing this, Coulson was reminded of Ronan's words.

"I have Level 8 clearance—are you sure?"

He repeated himself.

This was Level 8 clearance. In S.H.I.E.L.D., very few things were off-limits.

If a Level 8 clearance couldn't access these records, then...

"Sorry, sir, your current clearance level does not allow access."

After getting the same answer again, Coulson declined the operator's offer to notify Nick Fury and quietly hung up.

The result was clear.

Only someone at the director level could view those records.

In other words, his medical records held far more secrets than he had imagined.

What on earth had happened?

More importantly, how did Ronan know so much?

Coulson took a deep breath and leaned back heavily in his chair.

What secrets were hidden in all of this?

Could it be, as Ronan had said, that he had truly come back from the dead?

Coulson tried to recall his time on the island, trying to remember every little detail.

But, to his dismay, all he could remember was that it was a beautiful place.

Nothing else.

The more he thought about it, the worse his headache became.

"Argh!!!"

Until he couldn't help but cry out.

"What's wrong, Phil?"

Melinda May, hearing the noise, came into his room.

Coulson took a deep breath and gave May a forced smile.

"Nothing, it's just that..."

Just then, Coulson noticed something on the paper to his right—strange symbols!

He had never seen them before and had no idea what they meant.

Where had they come from???

"Just what?"

May frowned.

This wasn't like Coulson.

"Ah, nothing. Just a headache."

"Thanks."

Coulson smiled, signaling her to leave.

May gave him a long look but ultimately didn't pry. She just told him to get more rest and left, closing the door behind her.

"Oh, Melinda, one more thing."

"While I was out, did anyone enter my room?"

May paused, giving Coulson a puzzled look, but eventually shook her head.

"No."

Hearing this, Coulson smiled and nodded.

When May's footsteps faded away, Coulson picked up the paper, examining it closely.

The symbols on it...

He didn't recognize them, and he was certain they were not something from his memory.

And, as May had said, no one else had entered his room. When he sat down, he definitely hadn't drawn anything.

So...

Had he drawn these symbols unconsciously?

With this thought, Coulson's face grew darker.

He picked up his phone, intending to call Nick Fury.

But then he remembered what had been said in the car.

"If they're all Hydra, how did they get through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s stringent screening process?"

That question had become Coulson's nightmare.

He knew exactly how strict S.H.I.E.L.D.'s vetting process was.

Even those with clean backgrounds had to undergo multiple screenings before they could join S.H.I.E.L.D.

If the Sorcerer was lying, then everything made sense.

But why would he lie to him?

Given his abilities, neither Coulson nor S.H.I.E.L.D. could stop him.

So why do it?

Or...

Was he telling the truth?

If everything he said was true, then Coulson couldn't help but feel deeply uneasy.

Was S.H.I.E.L.D. already riddled with holes?

If so, who was Nick Fury really?

Coulson stood up suddenly, unable to think any further.

If even Nick Fury had issues, who could he trust within S.H.I.E.L.D.?

Coulson took a deep breath, pulling out his phone to make a call.

But after a long moment, he didn't know whom to ask.

He couldn't even risk asking for basic information.

Because if he exposed this secret, it might be buried forever.

With that thought, Coulson put down his phone, looking out of his room.

On this plane, there were five other agents.

Could he trust any of them?

Coulson didn't know.

But he knew one thing: they were all handpicked by him.

If there was a problem, it was his responsibility.

So, the first thing he needed to do was to verify whether those on his plane could be trusted.

He believed that his power alone couldn't match the strength of a team.

At least, that's how he saw it.

Meanwhile, on the other side of New York, someone else was just as conflicted as Coulson.

Ronan stood at Gwen Stacy's front door, awkwardly facing her parents.

Her mother was very kind, smiling warmly at Ronan.

But her father, George Stacy, looked at Ronan with an expression he couldn't understand.

That familiar chill down his back from the other night...

It was back!