C63: Agent Phil
He received the roasted wheat.
The distinctive lattice-fold shape of the Golden Ratio Shaomai immediately drew the attention of the customer. Crafted with symmetrical pleats and a translucent dough casing that revealed the vibrant filling within, it looked like something Wong might serve in Kamar-Taj's inner sanctum—if he ever took up cooking.
Holding the steaming, delicate dim sum in his hand, the black customer nodded with some approval at least the appearance alone felt worth the ten-dollar bill.
"But taste is everything."
Muttering to himself like a true New Yorker skeptical of street innovation, the bald-headed man brought the siomai cautiously to his lips.
"Hot—damn, it's hot—!"
Despite his large frame and booming voice, he squealed like Peter Parker the first time he got webbed to a wall. Snorting a few times, the man slowly let the flavor spread across his palate and then his eyes widened, as though he'd just stepped through one of Doctor Strange's portals into a garden of earthly delights.
"It's incredible! This shumai's insane shrimp still got bounce even though it's minced, the veggies taste like they came outta Poison Ivy's personal greenhouse, egg yolk is soft like Gotham custard tarts, and that pork—smooth but not greasy like Jinhua ham in Tony Stark's personal kitchen! But the genius, the genius, is the ratio—none of these ingredients bully the others. They're like the Fantastic Four in their prime: unified, balanced, stronger together!"
The man's mouth ran like he'd swallowed a truth lasso, and he only snapped out of it after his sudden food monologue, blinking like someone hit him with a mild telepathic suggestion from Professor X.
He scratched his head. "Dunno where all that came from, but... boss, gimme another 'Golden Ratio Shaomai'."
[Fame from dining car customer +0.05]
"Looks like cooking doesn't just bring joy—it brings recognition."
Back in the antique store tucked deep in Hell's Kitchen just a few blocks away from Josie's Bar—Li Ran chuckled as he watched his fame points tick up on the system's data panel.
Naturally, the burly man in the food truck was one of his clones, operating under the culinary persona of [Xie Lu].
…
Thanks to the glowing review from the first customer who oddly resembled a less-angsty version of Luke Cage—the business picked up fast.
Though ten bucks was steep by New York food truck standards, it still beat the Midtown high-rises where Stark Tower loomed overhead. Combined with the unmistakable aroma of expertly steamed siomai, it wasn't long before a small but steady line formed outside the truck.
[Fame from dining car customer +0.02]
[Fame from dining car customer +0.04]
[Fame from Phil Coulson +20]
[Fame from dining car customer +0.05]
Wait—hold up.
That last name. That very conspicuous +20.
Li Ran paused, eyes narrowing as he examined the system's logs. Phil Coulson.
He immediately switched vision to the clone in the truck and began scanning the surroundings.
Sure enough, there he was.
A lean, suited man with a calm demeanor and that familiar tight smile, casually sampling siomai from a paper tray in the alley like he wasn't the right hand of Director Nick Fury himself.
Phil Coulson—S.H.I.E.L.D. Level 8 operative, trusted liaison to the Avengers, personal handler for Tony Stark, and the man who once got murdered by Loki was quietly enjoying dumplings like he'd just stepped out of the Triskelion cafeteria.
Why was Agent Coulson slumming it here?
Li Ran frowned. His [Xie Lu] clone was good, but not "attract-the-attention-of-global-security-agencies" good.
Phil, of course, noticed the scrutiny within seconds. The man didn't survive alien invasions and rogue sorcerers by being unobservant. He glanced toward the truck's window, raised his dumpling in a half-toast, and gave a polite nod before returning to his snack with practiced cool.
Either that guy's on a break, or I'm in his crosshairs, Li Ran thought grimly.
Still, he didn't allow the clone to engage. S.H.I.E.L.D. was not something to poke casually, even if the culinary legend stat gain was tempting. Coulson's appearance likely had other motives more complex than dumplings, no matter how delicious.
After all, the real Coulson had infiltrated Stark Industries, tracked Asgardian relics, and chased alien threats through half the continental U.S. A food truck wouldn't pull him in—unless...
Unless Tony Stark himself was involved.
…
The next day, Li Ran moved the food truck one intersection over, near Columbia University, just a few blocks away from the Baxter Building.
[Fame from dining car customer +0.03]
[Fame from Phil Coulson +25]
...
Li Ran: "...Oh come on."
…
Day Three.
[Fame from Phil Coulson +20]
Day Four.
[Fame from Phil Coulson +30]
The man was persistent.
Every time Li Ran relocated, thinking he'd ditched the S.H.I.E.L.D. tail, Coulson would show up within an hour—always polite, always smiling, always ordering the same damn dish.
It was either surveillance or addiction.
"Boss," Coulson said on Day Four, tucking his tie back into his coat. "Your siomai really is something else. But the location hopping? Bit much. Some of us aren't Spider-Man—we can't web-sling between boroughs just to find a food truck."
That sounded innocuous.
But in Li Ran's ears, it felt like a loaded dart.
You're being watched.
And yet, it also confirmed something else: [Xie Lu]'s cooking was that good. Enough to draw the attention and wallet—of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents.
Still, Li Ran didn't buy it completely. Coulson had eaten shawarma with the Avengers and tasted Wakandan delicacies alongside T'Challa. His culinary standards were diverse, but never naive.
So why this obsession?
The answer came when a familiar matte-black S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance van drove past the truck—its reflective windows hiding everything but its intentions. In that moment, Coulson's posture shifted ever so slightly. Just a turn of the head. A touch on the earpiece.
That told Li Ran everything.
This wasn't about him. It was about the neighborhood.
Tony Stark, ever the flashy billionaire, had begun ramping up activity near this area—just a few weeks after announcing the clean energy arc reactor project. S.H.I.E.L.D. had started monitoring his activities discreetly.
So Coulson wasn't chasing dumplings.
He was just hungry while on stakeout.
Back at the antique shop, Li Ran slumped into his chair.
Still, if he could keep milking Coulson's hunger for more fame points and perhaps plant a few distractions—it was a win-win.
Let Phil Coulson chase secrets.
Li Ran would slay legends... one siomai at a time.
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