Selling Devil Fruits in the Marvel Universe

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"Anything else, sir?" Coulson's tone matched Fury's seriousness. He didn't need explicit instructions to understand the gravity of the situation. Rosh's overwhelming power wasn't something S.H.I.E.L.D.—or anyone, for that matter—could afford to underestimate. Even Coulson, a top-tier agent, felt a twinge of unease at the mere thought of confronting someone like Rosh.

Fury leaned back, considering his next move. "What about Barton? Where is he right now?"

"He's in Chicago, handling a mission," Coulson replied immediately, his encyclopedic knowledge of S.H.I.E.L.D. assignments kicking in.

"The assassination case involving that senator?" Fury pressed.

"Yes, sir," Coulson confirmed.

"Pull him out," Fury ordered without hesitation. "Let the FBI and CIA fight over that nonsense. Our top agents aren't meant for trivial cases like this."

Coulson tilted his head slightly, sensing there was more behind Fury's decision. "You have something else in mind for Barton?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Fury said, his tone firm and unyielding. "Just make sure he reports to me as soon as he gets back."

"Yes, sir," Coulson replied crisply. He didn't ask further questions, recognizing the finality in Fury's words. When the Director had a plan, it was best not to probe until the time was right.

A sly idea surfaced as Fury debated whether to elaborate on his plan. This seemed like an ideal moment to put his new ability to the test. Casually adjusting the eyepatch over his left eye, he formed a subtle "OK" gesture with his hand—an innocuous motion that activated his Mind Reading Ability. He cast an unseen mental gaze toward Coulson, allowing his thoughts to filter through.

'The Bureau doesn't have anything major happening except that discovery of Rosh's shop. Is Fury planning to assign Barton one of the Devil Fruit slots?' 

A faint smirk tugged at Fury's lips. 'Not bad, Coulson.' He had always admired the agent's sharp instincts, and this mental deduction was further proof. Coulson was right—Fury did intend to allocate the last Devil Fruit to Barton. After weighing every option, Clint Barton had emerged as the best candidate. A decade ago, Coulson himself might have been in the running. But those days had passed. Coulson's current role as a strategist and coordinator was invaluable, but assigning him such a resource would be impractical at best.

Just as Fury was beginning to revel in the accuracy of Coulson's analysis, another thought surfaced—one that wiped the smirk off his face and replaced it with a twitch of annoyance.

'That one-eyed bastard. I work myself to the bone for him, running errands all over the place, and he doesn't even consider me for a Devil Fruit? I curse him to have a kid born with no—' 

Fury's smile froze, but only for a fraction of a second before his expression returned to its usual calm. 

'Coulson!' Fury mentally exclaimed. 'You sly son of a bitch!'

Outwardly, his demeanor was unshaken, but his single visible eye narrowed just slightly, its sharp intensity fixed squarely on Coulson. 

Coulson, meanwhile, felt an inexplicable chill crawl up his spine. His instincts flared in warning as if his private musings had somehow been exposed. But he quickly shook off the absurd idea. 'Get a grip, Coulson. Fury can't possibly read minds… right?' 

He adjusted his stance and refocused. "Anything else, sir?" he asked, his tone steady despite his lingering unease. 

Fury didn't miss a beat, smoothly transitioning to his next directive. "I've received intel about a smuggling operation masquerading as a rare earth mining venture in Africa. It's being run by an international drug lord. Due to political sensitivities, the Defense Department wants an undercover operative to infiltrate the site." 

Coulson blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "And you want me to go to Africa and… mine?" His poker face faltered just enough to betray his skepticism. 

"Exactly," Fury replied, his tone unwavering. "You're one of our best, Coulson. No one's better suited for this mission." 

'Undercover? In Africa?' Coulson's face remained neutral, but internally, his thoughts raced. 'What kind of ridiculous assignment is this? Fury's sending me to dig up rocks? And since when does S.H.I.E.L.D. get involved with drug cartels?' 

Still, Coulson knew better than to question Fury openly. "Understood, sir," he said, though his internal grumbling was far from resolved.

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Meanwhile, at the Home of the Devil Fruits

"Just set it down there," Rosh instructed, his tone calm as two burly delivery men carefully lowered a massive crate of gold onto the shop floor. 

*Thunk.* 

The weight of the crate hitting the ground reverberated through the room—a sound as satisfying as it was symbolic. 

"Alright, you're free to go," Hope said briskly, dismissing the workers with practiced efficiency. 

Rosh observed her with quiet approval, masking the bubbling excitement within him. This delivery marked more than just another transaction—it was a milestone. With it, he would unlock new avenues of influence and power.

"All set, Boss. Do you want to count it?" Hope asked, glancing back at him after ensuring the workers were out of earshot.

"No need. I trust you," Rosh replied warmly. Yet, as always, he discreetly used his system to verify the amount. Unsurprisingly, it was flawless—Hope's precision was one of the reasons he valued her so highly. With a subtle wave of his hand, the gold disappeared into his inventory, vanishing as if it had never been there. 

Hope's eyes widened slightly at the effortless display. Even though she was well-acquainted with the extraordinary nature of the Home of the Devil Fruits, moments like these reminded her just how unique and formidable Rosh truly was.

Rosh, however, remained composed. Reaching into his inventory, he retrieved the promised item: a Devil Fruit. Its surface was marked with the signature cloud-like swirls, an unmistakable characteristic of all Devil Fruits. This one, in particular, was the Chase-Chase Fruit.

"Here you go," Rosh said, extending the fruit toward Hope.

Her face lit up as she carefully accepted it. After weeks of negotiation and meticulous planning, the object of her ambitions was finally in her possession. "I've waited so long for this," she said softly, her voice carrying a mix of anticipation and reverence. 

"Is there anything special I need to do to preserve it?" she asked, her tone turning serious as she examined the fruit.

Rosh chuckled lightly. "Nope. Just make sure no one steals it. Devil Fruits aren't like regular fruit—they don't spoil, rot, or degrade. They'll stay as they are indefinitely."

Hope visibly relaxed at the reassurance. "Good to know. Thank you, Shopkeeper," she said with a small smile of gratitude.

With that, another transaction was complete, and Rosh's influence—and the mystique of his shop—grew just a little more.

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Next Chapter: Lottery Rewards

Next Next Chapter: A Man Interested in Zoan Fruits

Next Next Next Chapter: The First Sold Zoan-Type Devil Fruit

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