Marvel: Transmigrated with Travelling Frog?!

13th Street.

Inside a black sedan, Coulson sat with a coffee in one hand and a burger in the other. He had spent the entire day wandering around, investigating everything he could find.

And yet...

He found nothing!

The thought of his "motherf**ker" spouting, one-eyed boss made Coulson's head ache.

"Does something like that really exist?" Coulson wondered, recalling the video of the suit of armor.

Cool! Impressive! Every man's dream!

Meanwhile, in a nearby restaurant, Happy was enjoying a steak, smiling contentedly. He was also here to investigate the same matter, but unlike Coulson, he was indulging in a delicious meal, cutting into the steak with his knife and fork.

Watching this, Coulson suddenly found his burger a lot less appetizing.

They were both working for someone—so why was there such a big difference in their lives?

Taking a hard bite of his burger, he continued to keep an eye on his surroundings.

At that moment, a taxi pulled up in front of the restaurant, and a handsome young couple stepped out.

"Ah, young love. There was a time when I would take a girl out for dinner like that," Coulson thought nostalgically as he watched them. He remembered his youth—taking pretty girls out to dinner, drinking a bit of wine, and how naturally everything fell into place.

That life, however, had ended the day he joined S.H.I.E.L.D.

The couple that had just stepped out of the taxi was none other than Alan and Gwen, who had come from the university.

"This is the place you mentioned?" Alan asked.

Gwen nodded, smiling. "Yes, they have the best steak in all of New York."

What a coincidence! Alan marveled inwardly. This restaurant was directly across the street from where he lived.

The hostess welcomed them and led them inside. They quickly ordered their steak meals. Not being particularly interested in Western food, Alan ordered the same set as Gwen.

As for having a bit of alcohol to "enhance the mood," that wasn't even a possibility. In America, most places wouldn't serve alcohol to anyone under 21.

"Alan, you're Asian, right?" Gwen asked as they waited.

Alan nodded, "Yes."

"Do you know much about that mysterious Eastern country?" Gwen asked curiously.

"Of course. What would you like to know? I can tell you anything."

Gwen's eyes lit up with curiosity. "I've heard that there's so much delicious food there that you could never try it all, even in a lifetime. Is that true?"

Alan smiled. It seemed that girls everywhere had a particular interest in food.

"Yes, indeed. Our food culture is vast and varied."

"Can you cook?" Gwen asked eagerly.

"I can cook a few dishes," Alan replied with a nod.

Upon hearing this, Gwen's eyes sparkled even more.

At that moment, Alan's expression suddenly tensed as he glanced over at a television hanging nearby. Gwen noticed his change in demeanor and turned to look behind her as well.

On the TV, a live broadcast from a news channel showed a photo of Tony Stark.

The female anchor, holding a script in her hand, read aloud: "Patriotic businessman and Stark Industries' genius scientist, Tony Stark, was testing new border defense weapons in the Middle East this afternoon. After the weapon tests concluded, Stark's convoy was ambushed by a terrorist group, and Tony Stark is currently missing."

...

Just then, a heavyset figure near the window suddenly shot up from his seat.

"Oh, f**k!" The outburst immediately drew everyone's attention.

Alan curiously looked over and quickly recognized the man—Happy, Tony's friend, driver, and bodyguard.

What was he doing here?

Happy, visibly shaken after watching the news, completely lost his composure. He forgot all about the task Tony had entrusted to him and became solely concerned about Tony's safety.

After hastily throwing down some dollar bills, he grabbed his coat and rushed out of the restaurant.

This scene didn't go unnoticed by Coulson, who was watching from outside. Not knowing about the news playing inside, Coulson assumed that Happy had found some crucial information about the mysterious suit of armor. He immediately spit out the half-eaten burger in his mouth.

"Pfft..."

Suddenly, Gwen, sitting across from Alan, stifled a laugh. This made Alan curious. "What are you laughing at?"

Gwen pointed outside. "Look, don't those two look almost identical in their panicked state? They're even dressed alike."

Following her gaze, Alan quickly recognized the man Gwen was referring to.

"Agent Coulson?"

If Happy's presence here was a coincidence or simply because he wanted to grab something to eat, then what was Agent Coulson doing here?

One was loyal to Nick Fury, the other to Tony Stark—there shouldn't be any overlap in their missions at this point in time.

Alan squinted his eyes, recalling his escapades flying around in the Emperor Armor the night before. Suddenly, everything became clear.

"Looks like I was caught by satellite surveillance," he thought to himself. "I'll need to keep a lower profile for a while."

Alan wasn't afraid; he just didn't want to get entangled with these official organizations.

For one thing, they were a hassle. For another, he didn't particularly like these people. They always claimed to act in your best interest, but everyone had their own hidden agendas.

Throughout history, Westerners had caused countless harm under the guise of "helping" others. It was nothing new.

Alan's personal philosophy was simple: as long as no one messed with him, he wouldn't bother messing with anyone else.

As for Coulson, Alan didn't pay him much mind. From the agent's behavior, it was clear that they had only identified the general area where the Emperor Armor had appeared—they hadn't yet tracked it to him personally.

What really grabbed Alan's attention was the information on the TV.

Tony had already been captured by the Ten Rings. He was probably undergoing life-saving surgery at this very moment.

Once Tony returned and announced the cessation of weapons production, Alan's plan could begin.

"Are you really that interested in Stark?" Gwen asked, intrigued.

Alan smiled. "He's the richest man alive. Wouldn't you pay extra attention if a billionaire went missing?"

Gwen shook her head. "I don't like him."

"Why not?"

"Even though the media paints him as a patriotic businessman and a pacifist, that's all just talk," Gwen said, searching for the right word. "To me, he seems more like a..."

"Like what?" Alan asked, curious.

"A tool—a person who only knows how to produce weapons of destruction."

...