Chapter 260. Dense Fog

"These fucking alien bastards!"

"Damn those Avengers, damn the government!"

New York, along the Atlantic coast.

On a rust-covered, old fishing boat, a wrinkled white man held a bottle in one hand and constantly ranted angrily.

The Battle of New York had taken everything from him, his house, his family. Everything.

"Why? Why me? Why! Why didn't those damn Avengers save my family? My beloved Mary was only sixteen, why...?"

The man poured the vodka in his hand, and as he seemed exhausted from cursing, he started to cry while mumbling to himself.

Underneath, the fishing boat was drifting aimlessly with the waves, already having lost its sense of direction. The entire cabin was empty and void of any provisions. In truth, the man had already made the decision to never return, since he had lost everything that mattered to him - his warm home and beloved daughter. He truly had nothing now.

Under the influence of alcohol, the man's mind became hazy and he leaned against the bow, staring off into the distant coastline. Suddenly, a thick fog appeared on the surface of the sea.

The dense fog came suddenly without any warning.

With the dense fog, a strange boat appeared beside the fishing boat.

"What?"

The sudden fog sobered up the man's otherwise intoxicated brain. He opened his own drowsy eyes and examined the boat that had appeared in the vicinity.

The style of the ship was strange, unlike anything of recent times. On board the humble wooden ship sat an expressionless woman with a paraffin lamp, used only in the Middle Ages, in front of her, emitting a faint glow to illuminate the fog before her.

The bizarre scene completely sobered the man from his drunken stupor and he turned his head to look around him. He found that at some point, a large number of wooden boats had appeared and surrounded his small fishing boat.

On each of the wooden boats, an expressionless figure sat inside.

The man panicked as he looked all around him at the densely packed wooden boats. The bizarre scene unfolding in front of him overwhelmed the grief within him as his eyes swept over the expressionless figures, only to then be drawn to a familiar face.

"Mary? Mary!"

The man blinked his eyes in disbelief and looked at a wooden boat not far from him, where his deceased daughter was perfectly intact, not a scratch on her beautiful face.

"Mari, I'm here, can you hear me?!"

With trembling lips, the man could see his daughter sitting in the wooden boat, his inner excitement overpowering his panic. Almost without thinking, he shouted out loud.

However, although the man shouted, there was still no response from the Mary in the boat, who was still sitting there expressionlessly, staring at the faint light of the paraffin lamp.

"No, you can't, no!"

As he watched the wooden boat carrying his daughter slowly float away without any response, the man's initially excited expression turned rigid. Gritting his teeth, he staggered to his feet and took control of the fishing boat. He didn't hesitate to chase the boat in the direction it had disappeared to.

The man's strength had long since run out in the fog, and the only thing holding him together was hope for his daughter Mary.

"The Fog, it dispersed?"

Before we knew it, the fog that had covered the sea was gradually dispersing, along with the wooden boats that had been travelling in it.

Before the man's face could show the grief and anger as he watched the wooden boat disappear into the fog. In the next second, a huge ship that radiated an unsettling red glow, like a phantom, appeared in front of him.

...

At Stark's building, Adrian Toomes was overseeing the efforts of his workers as they dismantle and recycle the remnants of the Chitauri. The alien technology has left behind scraps, but even in its incomplete state, the potential for technological success contained within had Toomes feeling ecstatic. He sees a great reward in store for him as he continues to study and research the waste materials.

"This is simply the best decision I've ever made in my life!"

The Vulture had a look of satisfaction on his face, but Toomes's smile didn't have a chance to fully form before a sudden, unexpected voice interrupted.

"Attention please!"

Toomes turned to see an overweight woman with white hair walking in with a small team, speaking authoritatively.

"In accordance with Executive Order 396-B, all post-battle clean-up operations are now under our jurisdiction. Thank you for your service; we'll take it from here."

"Who the hell are you?"

As Adrian Toomes looked at the group of uninvited guests appearing suddenly in the midst of Stark building's wreckage, he began to feel anxious.

"Department of Damage Control."

As all eyes swept to Adrian Toomes, one of the men spoke back.

"Listen." The situation at hand began to head towards an outcome that Adrian Toomes couldn't have predicted. He had sacrificed everything he had to get this one chance to recover. "I have a city contract to salvage all of this ok, the city said..."

"I'm apologize, Mr. Toomes, but all salvage operations are now under our jurisdiction."

The extraterrestrial weapons left by the Chitauri are incredibly powerful. The United States government can't allow an ordinary person like Adrian Toomes to control such advanced technology. As soon as the Battle of New York ended, the White House issued an order to quickly establish the "Damage Control Department" to oversee the recovery and disposal of Chitauri debris.

Adrian Toomes's luck was against him.

"Please turn over any and all exotic materials that you have collected or you will be prosecuted." Sweeping her gaze over the vast wreckage within the building, the woman continued.

"Ma'am, please, wait, hey, come on! Look, I brought trucks for this job. I brought in a whole new crew, these guys have families, I have a family. I'm all in on this, I could lose my house!" " Adrian Toomes's expression became agitated. He had sold his assets and borrowed a large sum of money from the bank to obtain the authorization of the city in order to complete the recycling work quickly. However, now he was informed that the authorization was no longer valid.

This was simply asking for his life.

"I'm sorry sir, there is nothing I can do."

The woman replied back with a straight, expressionless face.

"However, if you have a grievance, you may take it up with my superiors."

...

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