That was a fair point and one Nick would probably put a team on, actually. It would help with occult threats to know how to handle something soulless. Magic shit. Fury wasn't especially fond of magic shit. He made a mental note and took a slice of pizza, went to the fridge for a couple bottles of beer, and handed one to her before he sat down in his favorite armchair. The General twisted in Wicked's arms with an annoyed mew and shoved his head at her pointedly for chin scratches. Cat knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. No nonsense. Nick appreciated that in his pet. "Speaking of souls, any news to report on the search for the kid's?" Leaving one terrible topic for another. At least they had pizza and beer.