Chapter 31: A Duel with S.H.I.E.L.D.

Robby wore a grim expression and said nothing, grabbing one in each hand and hauling them into the car. There was no need for a key—the engine started instantly, the mark of a seasoned driver. Flames licked at the wheels as they sped off.

Lucy glanced at Old Wang with a pitiful look, her eyes brimming with a ghostly sorrow, that expression chilling to the bone. Old Wang shot her a look in return, telling her to read between the lines. Lucy understood at once. With a wave of her hand, the Four Ghosts followed, grinning wickedly.

Inside the Heart of Azeroth, the young lady quickly covered her eyes, peeking through her fingers. Then, realizing Old Wang hadn’t come in, she relaxed, lowered her hands, and whispered, “Study hard, make progress every day.”

What followed was not fit for innocent eyes. The distance was great, so even with Old Wang’s keen hearing, he could only catch fragments. Phrases like “I’m your uncle,” “For all of humanity,” “Lucy, listen to me,” “I was going to bring you all back once this was over,” and a slew of explanations—all utterly useless.

Robby had been hardened by years on the streets, and dying once only made him more difficult to fool. Lucy and her crew were even more ruthless; forgiveness was out of the question for Eli. Some needed to vent, others to explain, some to plead, but the outcome was inevitable. With his wealth of experience, Old Wang knew exactly how this would end.

Ten minutes later, Robby returned. The bald brute from Fifth Street was gone, and Eli had regained consciousness—thanks to a beating. His face was swollen and bruised, every inch of skin battered, eyes ringed with black, lips purple, his face smeared with blood and marked with burns, teetering on the edge of disfigurement. He pressed his legs together tightly; who knew if his happiness for the rest of his life could still be guaranteed. Thankfully, his arms and legs were intact—he was still alive.

“All settled?” Old Wang looked him over, very satisfied. Lucy had certainly been thorough.

“It’s done,” Robby replied in a low voice, visibly downcast.

Old Wang turned to Eli. “How was the talk, Chief Engineer?”

“So it was all fake—there’s no conjuring something from nothing, no God, though devils, perhaps…” Eli rubbed his panda-eyed bruises, gazing at the Chinese youth’s gentle smile, and suddenly felt a chill run through him, as if he’d just returned from hell itself. He almost wet himself and forced a smile. “Robby knows I’m a good man at heart. I’ve always obeyed the law. It was the Dark Codex’s fault…”

He cast a pleading look at Robby, who turned away stone-faced, refusing to meet his eyes—do whatever you like, I’m not getting involved.

Lucy and the Four Ghosts surrounded him with faces full of rage.

“All right, all right, I was wrong! I’ll help you build the quantum generator, help you get your lives back. I don’t want to die. Just let me go when it’s finished!” Eli raised both hands in surrender, admitting defeat.

Old Wang gave no clear answer. It was, after all, the Dark Codex’s fault. It could seduce and amplify the filth and evil within one’s heart, but only if the darkness was already there. Of course, nearly ninety-nine percent of people had such darkness. It was just bad luck to fall victim. I might let you go, but will others? That’s not my concern. I’m not your keeper; how you resolve things among yourselves is none of my business.

Night had fallen deep and dark. Roxxon Power Plant was plunged in shadow.

It had only recently shut down for certain reasons, leaving just a few guards on duty. Old Wang handled the guards with his hypnotic technique and strolled inside. Following Lucy’s directions, he soon found the materials he needed. Everything was ready—the batteries were there, and all that remained was to build the quantum generator. It didn’t have to be top-notch; a disposable one would do, since only function mattered.

Eli knew what he was doing, and with Robby, Lucy, and the others helping, it wouldn’t take long. Unfortunately, they couldn’t take it with them. The battery box wasn’t a true accumulator, more like an adapter—it required an active power supply, and a massive one at that. Ordinary high-voltage lines wouldn’t suffice; the best solution was to restart the plant.

Eli was indeed a professional engineer, skilled in many things. Time ticked by.

Suddenly, Old Wang’s ears twitched. He heard faint footsteps.

“We have company,” he said with a smile, taking a sip of Well of Eternity water from his flask. The primordial energy of Azeroth flowed through him, nourishing his body—like being infused with the essence of the Azeroth maiden herself. He suppressed the nearly overwhelming sensation of vitality and growth, and turned to Skye. “Let’s see who’s come—S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra?”

Roxxon Power Plant had a security system. Once power was restored, Skye immediately hacked into the surveillance network and soon found a fleeting image.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Skye announced, zooming in to reveal the emblem on the intruder’s clothing. The image was fleeting because the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents spotted the camera and shot it out instantly.

“Not bad, very professional,” Old Wang praised, flexing his hands. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is here—Hydra can’t be far behind.”

No sooner had he spoken than a barrage of gunfire erupted. Skye quickly pulled up the matching camera feed.

A burly man in a black and gray uniform, face masked and hair wild, strode forward with a fearsome grenade launcher. He hefted the weapon and fired.

Boom! A grenade exploded in the midst of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents—a deafening blast, leaving chaos and carnage in its wake. Tossing aside the launcher, the masked man grabbed an equally impressive submachine gun.

Tat-tat-tat! A burst of gunfire and the curt groans of the fallen—one S.H.I.E.L.D. special ops team wiped out in moments.

Someone fired back, bullets striking the masked man with no effect. His uniform was now riddled with tiny holes, but not a drop of blood appeared. His left sleeve was torn, exposing a gleaming silver arm, crafted from some unknown metal and brimming with advanced technology.

Old Wang was stunned. Then stunned again.

What on earth? This was the Winter Soldier!

Pierce had actually sent the Winter Soldier? If memory served, his next appearance should have been against Fury—this was earlier than expected.

Old Wang felt a surge of excitement. Eighteen years in this world, and this was the first time he’d encountered someone worthy of being called an adversary. His hunter’s blood was up.

Captain America was still on ice. Iron Man had yet to be kidnapped. The Hulk was hiding out in Brazil or perhaps Canada. Thor hadn’t descended to Earth. The first Ant-Man had been estranged from S.H.I.E.L.D. for over a decade. Captain Marvel was somewhere unknown.

Who in S.H.I.E.L.D. could possibly withstand the Winter Soldier? Hydra was ruthless—clearly bent on wiping out every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent sent here.

Then again… perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D. was just collateral damage; the Dark Codex was the true prize.

“You all stay here. Robby, protect them. I’m going to meet the Winter Soldier,” Old Wang said, unable to resist the itch for a confrontation, and perhaps to save a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Coulson was a good man—not a Hydra agent yet. For future dealings with S.H.I.E.L.D., he was the ideal contact; the others were either unreliable or too hard-nosed. Old Wang preferred the gentle approach; women liked the tough ones, not him.

Black Widow was beautiful—worth saving if possible. Not because he wanted to pursue her; he actually preferred women of Chinese descent, not blond bombshells with ample curves. He had plenty of his own, after all. Besides, Black Widow’s romantic history was a bit too eventful. Still, beauty was beauty; she was easy on the eyes, and without her, Marvel’s plotlines lost some of their spark. Without her, who would soothe the Hulk’s fragile heart?

“Robby, don’t let your uncle cause trouble, or you’ll cause trouble too—let’s see who can outdo whom.” Old Wang gave one last instruction.

Robby nodded firmly, chain in hand, sticking close to Eli.

Old Wang could relax. Even if Eli tried something, the Ghost Rider could end him, even in the interdimensional gaps.

Having witnessed the Ghost Rider’s terror, Eli likely wouldn’t dare.

Gunfire still echoed, with occasional explosions and the rumble of collapsing walls.

Old Wang, masked and barehanded, dashed toward the Winter Soldier. The wind whipped past, brushing gently across Skye’s face.