Chapter 112:  A Fury Without an Eye Patch Has No Soul

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"System, just to confirm—Nick Fury's Glare-Glare Fruit abilities wouldn't work on me, right?" He added, almost as an afterthought, "I mean, specifically in terms of mind probing." 

After Fury left, Rosh took a moment to reflect. A thought nagged at the back of his mind, prompting him to access his system interface for clarification.

He recalled testing his immunity against telepathic heavyweights like Professor X in the past, confirming their abilities had no effect on him. By comparison, while remarkable, the mind-reading powers of the Glare-Glare Fruit were far less potent. Still, this was Nick Fury—he preferred certainty over assumptions.

[Rest assured, host. The system's protective mechanisms render all forms of mind probing ineffective. This includes the abilities of the Glare-Glare Fruit.]

The system's response echoed in Rosh's mind, clear and reassuring. He exhaled, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Good," he muttered to himself. As much as he respected Fury's resourcefulness, there were some boundaries that even the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't cross.

Even if Fury attempted to use his newly acquired Glare-Glare Fruit powers to peer into Rosh's thoughts, his efforts would be in vain. However, the fruit's other capabilities, like its long-range surveillance or ability to see through walls, would still function effectively. These features exposed Rosh in certain ways, but he wasn't particularly concerned.

In fact, Rosh had assumed from the moment Black Widow stepped into his store that S.H.I.E.L.D. was likely monitoring his every move. This level of attention was only to be expected when dealing with an organization like theirs. Such scrutiny didn't faze him. Regular surveillance methods, even those enhanced by the Glare-Glare Fruit, posed no real threat. His sole concern had been the possibility of mind-reading, but now that he'd confirmed its ineffectiveness against him, he felt reassured. 

With that matter settled, Rosh mentally dismissed Fury from his thoughts. For all the man's influence as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s director, in Rosh's eyes, he was no different from the countless others who had entered his store. Fury was, at best, just another customer—not someone worth dwelling on.

"One more Devil Fruit sold," Rosh murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Just one left to hit this phase's sales target!" Thanks to Fury's purchase, Rosh had sold nine of the ten fruits required to complete his goal for this phase. 

'Just one more step to victory!'

The thought left Rosh in a particularly good mood as he focused on preparing for the next sale.

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Meanwhile, on 73rd Street

A sleek black SUV cruised steadily along the road.

In the back seat, Nick Fury sat with his usual composed expression, but his thoughts were anything but calm. The Glare-Glare Fruit had exceeded his expectations. Its ability to push vision to unparalleled extremes was extraordinary. However, the reality of having only one functioning eye felt like a glaring limitation, a squandered opportunity to maximize the fruit's full potential.

Fury hadn't given much thought to his damaged eye in the past. It had never hindered him from excelling in his role. But now, things were different. With his newfound powers, he was seriously entertaining the idea of restoring his vision.

If he could regain the use of his injured eye, it would not only double his ability to wield the fruit's powers but also provide him with a valuable edge in the field—a trump card no one would expect.

'Yes... this needs to happen,' Fury thought, his decision solidifying. 

"Director, where to next?" The driver, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent seated in the front, glanced back for instructions.

"Pull over up ahead," Fury ordered, his voice calm but authoritative.

The agent complied without question, smoothly steering the vehicle to the curb.

"Out of the car," Fury commanded as the SUV came to a halt. Without hesitation, the agent exited and stepped aside, allowing Fury to climb into the driver's seat. Gripping the wheel, Fury wasted no time. He pulled out his phone and made a call, issuing precise instructions to someone on the other end.

"Make the arrangements. I need them at Old George's in forty minutes," he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. About half an hour later, his phone buzzed with confirmation. Everything was set. Fury's plan to restore his eye—and fully harness the power of the Glare-Glare Fruit—was officially in motion. 

*Screech!*

Fury expertly executed a U-turn, weaving through a labyrinth of streets before pulling up in front of an unassuming café.

Pausing momentarily, he raised his hand in the "OK" gesture, activating his newly acquired X-ray vision to scan the area. His single eye meticulously swept through walls and windows, ensuring no unusual presence or potential threats were in the vicinity. Satisfied with his surveillance, Fury stepped out and entered the café.

On the surface, this establishment appeared to be a run-of-the-mill coffee shop, with its faded sign and modest decor. However, it was far from ordinary. This was one of Fury's covert bases—a safehouse disguised in plain sight.

Inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Fury made his way to a corner table where a woman was already seated. Without hesitation, he sat down across from her.

"This café may look old and dated," Fury began, his tone casual as he gestured to the surroundings, "but their coffee? It's on another level. Their fresh blends are nothing short of a masterpiece."

The woman raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I'll take your word for it, but I'm not much of a coffee drinker," she replied, her voice calm but laced with a trace of humor. Unmoved by the small talk, she cut straight to the point. "So, you're the one in need of treatment?"

The woman was none other than Dr. Helen Cho. 

"Apologies for the sudden invitation, Dr. Cho. Shall we begin?" Fury said, extending his hand with his characteristic brevity. Helen Cho gave a slight nod, wasting no time. She placed her hand over his, activating the unique abilities granted by her Heal-Heal Fruit.

A faint glow emanated from her touch, and within moments, she withdrew her hand. "It's done. You can remove the patch now," she instructed, her tone matter-of-fact.

Fury excused himself without a word and made his way to the café's restroom. Inside a stall, he locked the door and took a deep breath. Slowly, he removed the eye patch he had worn for so many years. A sight he hadn't seen in decades greeted him in the mirror—a fully restored left eye, sharp and vibrant, staring back.

For a brief moment, a rare smile broke across Fury's face, one of genuine satisfaction. The sensation of seeing the world with both eyes again was surreal, almost overwhelming. Yet, true to form, Fury quickly composed himself, masking his emotions as if nothing had changed. He carefully replaced the eye patch, ensuring his usual demeanor remained intact, and exited the restroom.

Back at the table, Fury addressed Helen Cho. "Dr. Cho, remember the confidentiality agreement. As far as you're concerned, you were here to enjoy coffee, and you never saw me."

Dr. Cho inclined her head. "Understood. May I leave now?" 

Fury gestured toward the door. "You're free to go. But really, you should try the coffee here—it's worth your time."

With her task complete, Dr. Cho quietly left the café.

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Back in his car, Fury adjusted the rearview mirror, his hand briefly moving to lift the eye patch. He glanced at his restored left eye, the reflection staring back at him feeling almost surreal. 

"Not blind anymore, huh?" he muttered, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

The sight filled him with a quiet satisfaction, but for Fury, the restoration of his vision didn't mean abandoning his signature look. The eye patch wasn't just a piece of fabric; it was a symbol, a shield, and a statement. 

A Nick Fury without an eye patch? That would be like stripping away part of his identity. 

With a small shake of his head, he let the patch fall back into place, adjusting it with precision before gripping the wheel. 

"Some things," he mused to himself, "are better left unchanged." And with that, he pulled into the traffic, blending into the cityscape as if nothing had happened.

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Next Chapter: S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Concern—The Dangerous Shopkeeper

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