Chapter 1686:

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Before anyone could press him, Coulson flicked his wrist, and a dozen figures materialized from the shadows—chip-implanted men, their eyes blank and movements eerily precise. They formed a silent wall before the group.

Brody’s hand flew to his disruptor, yanking it free with practiced ease. He jabbed the button, expecting the chips to falter. Nothing. He pressed again, harder, but the figures kept advancing, unfazed.

Coulson’s smirk widened as he slipped through a gap in the chaos. “Brody, did you really think I would fall for the same trick twice?” he taunted.

Coulson had upgraded his tech, Brody realized, cursing his own oversight. While he had been scouring the city for Yelena, Coulson had outmaneuvered him, upgrading the chips and rendering the disruptor useless.

Frustration surged through Brody as he glared at the useless device in his hand. “Damn it all,” he growled under his breath. He should have seen this coming. “Well,” he said aloud, forcing a grin, “looks like we do this the old-fashioned way.”

Coulson’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. “Do not touch Yelena!”

To Brody’s surprise, they obeyed, weaving around her with mechanical precision.

How did he control them so perfectly? Brody wondered. Could someone else seize that control?

Testing a hunch, he shouted, “Stop!”

Coulson’s laughter rang out, mocking. “Brody, save your breath. You are wasting your time.”

Brody’s lips curled into a defiant smirk. “Oh, are you sure about that?” Coulson’s amusement faltered as he noticed movement behind him. Austin and John had slipped into position, their steps silent and deliberate.

Brody’s outburst had been a distraction, and it worked.

Coulson’s face darkened, his voice icing over. “Brody, I am your senior. You dare betray me?”

Brody’s eyes blazed, his fists clenching. “You betrayed our master,” he spat. “You lost any claim to being my senior the moment you hurt her.”

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Coulson’s sneer twisted. “Our master? If I had not scraped and clawed to keep you fed, you would have starved to death even after she took you in.”

Even as he traded blows with Austin and John, Coulson’s words never faltered. His skill outmatched them, each strike fluid and precise, as if he was barely breaking a sweat.

Austin, still recovering from old wounds, gritted his teeth, his movements slower than John’s.

A glance passed between them—John’s eyes flickered with worry, but Austin’s steady nod said he could hold his own. He was pushing himself too hard, John thought, his chest tightening.

But Austin’s focus never wavered, his fists flying with stubborn determination.

Brody seized the moment to speak, his voice cutting through the fray. “You thought you built everything alone, Coulson? That you were the mastermind?” He stepped closer, his voice low and deliberate. “Our master propped you up. She never told you because she didn’t want to bruise your ego. The Ellis family bought your herbs when no one else would—because she called in a favor. They claimed it was for a new medicine. You sold them the herbs—but did you ever check if that drug hit the market?”

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