Chapter 33: It Was Him, It Was Truly Him!
Daggers are easily blocked. The tactical knife produced by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Technology Division is made of top-grade materials, but Hydra's mechanical arm is just as impressive—not only does it have a cutting-edge technological feel, but it's also tough enough that the tactical knife leaves only a scratch when it strikes. But that's nothing. That arm also strengthens the user's physical power—it's practically the Marvel universe's version of a Kirin Arm. Pretty formidable. With a single swing, the tactical knife goes flying.
Natasha feels a surge of tremendous force; her arm goes numb. She twists through a complex, elegant series of moves in midair, lands, and then propels herself with both legs. She leaps up—legs apart—snaps them together—twists her hips—arches her back with a flick of her head for momentum. In the blink of an eye, she’s perched on the Winter Soldier's shoulders in a textbook Black Widow scissor hold.
Don’t be fooled by the apparent slenderness of Natasha’s legs—they’re powerful enough to snap a man’s waist, or his neck. Anyone who’s experienced it knows; more than half the Marvel heroes can testify to it. These iconic scissors have broken more necks than one could count.
But not this time. It’s useless. The move is ineffective against the Winter Soldier. Even leveraging her waist for a takedown does nothing—he’s utterly immovable, his feet planted like deep roots.
The Winter Soldier’s face remains expressionless. Suddenly, he seizes Black Widow with both hands. Headbutt! Bang! Their skulls collide. Natasha is dazed, nearly blacking out. She wrenches her waist, morphs into a slippery eel, and wriggles free of the Winter Soldier’s grip, only to be thrown forcefully to the ground.
The mechanical arm rises. Micro-missiles launch. Natasha bolts.
Boom! The explosion sends shockwaves and debris flying. Natasha dives to the ground, dodging most of the blast, but gets hit a few times—her back aches, her waist even more so.
The Winter Soldier charges forward in long strides. Natasha scrambles to her feet and runs—there’s simply no way to fight him. The Winter Soldier isn't just a combat expert with superhuman physique and a killer’s detachment; he's also a weapons specialist, never fighting empty-handed if he can help it. His lethality is terrifying.
Worst of all, he doesn’t bother with fair duels. A dozen Hydra agents rush in!
Gunfire erupts in a barrage. Natasha dashes for the nearest corner, hoping to evade the assault. But she isn’t fast enough—no one is faster than a hail of bullets. One bullet strikes her, nearly breaking her waist. Another hits her leg. She drops to one knee, unable to rise again.
The gunfire abruptly ceases, replaced by heavy footsteps—the Winter Soldier, whose weight far exceeds his appearance.
What do they want? Natasha knows all too well—capture, interrogation, every manner of cruel punishment, and even the most dreadful fates a woman could imagine...
But it hardly matters. She’s been through this hundreds of times before.
If they can’t break her, they’ll use her as bait. S.H.I.E.L.D. would risk everything for the famed “Black Widow”—she’s too valuable.
Natasha decides not to resist. If she’s captured, so be it. Perhaps she’ll glean valuable intel on Hydra and find a way to escape—she’s done it so often it’s become second nature.
Just as this thought passes, Natasha sees a foot—a sneaker-clad foot. Then a leg in sweatpants. Not short, but not particularly long. Not thick, but not exactly thin either. Then a second foot, a second leg.
Someone rounds the corner, rushing her way.
Suddenly—blink and he’s gone.
Natasha instinctively turns her head and catches a nearly indiscernible blur rolling past her, tumbling toward the Winter Soldier. Yes—rolling, not running or walking, but curled into a tight ball, rolling like a sphere!
What kind of special forces or assassin school teaches this? Since when is rolling faster than running? And this isn’t even downhill!
The amazing thing is, he really is fast—much faster than an Olympic sprinter.
Physics-defying? Absolutely.
The human ball suddenly bursts open, revealing a man. He’s dressed in a cheap tracksuit—twenty bucks for the whole set at a roadside shop, and it looks like a knockoff.
He straightens, about the same height as the Winter Soldier—slightly overweight, but nowhere near as burly. Standing together, it’s like an office worker face-to-face with a bodybuilding coach.
His face is concealed, making age and appearance impossible to guess, but he radiates a calm that could only come from a middle-aged man, not a youth.
Suddenly, the man lifts his hand. It doesn’t seem especially fast, but in truth, it’s lightning quick.
Natasha’s eyesight is sharp enough to read the smallest line on an eye chart, and her specialized training allows her to capture every detail. She sees it all with perfect clarity.
It’s not a fist, but a flat, closed hand. He plants his palm on the Winter Soldier’s chest.
The Winter Soldier is hurled backward, yet the man doesn’t budge an inch.
Natasha suddenly feels her worldview turn upside down. This simply defies the laws of physics! Action and reaction—this is basic high school science. If one person strikes another, the force is mutual. If both are steady on their feet, the lighter one should be knocked back. Even accounting for momentum, this is absurd. The man didn’t move, yet the much heavier Winter Soldier went flying—what is this, a movie?
And this is just the beginning.
The scenes that follow leave Natasha wide-eyed, her mouth agape—enough to fit two quail eggs and a sausage.
Gunfire erupts. Hydra’s agents, well-trained, open fire—but not a single bullet finds its mark.
The man charges into their midst.
Fists! Palms! Kicks! Headbutts! Chokeholds! Rolls!
A flurry of attacks—every move executed with elegance and beauty. At times, he’s as fierce as a tiger, as steady as a mountain, as swift as a leopard.
It all takes just nine seconds.
Hydra’s men are utterly wiped out.
Only the Winter Soldier, not far off, manages to get up, apparently unharmed.
Natasha suddenly recalls Agent Ward’s previous report. The man who took out their entire team in just seven seconds—wasn’t the Winter Soldier after all, but this man in the cheap tracksuit?
No wonder he didn’t kill Ward’s team—he wasn’t Hydra, but Hydra’s enemy.
...
Meanwhile, Old Wang isn’t lost in such thoughts, nor is he giving himself extra dramatic flair. He unleashes his inner energy—Tiger Palm, Crane Neck Kick, Phantom Kick, Gale Combo, and more.
Plus, the countless “friendly sparring matches” with the masters of thirteen different martial arts schools in Chinatown, where he learned a variety of techniques: Bajiquan, Taijiquan, Baguazhang, Xingyiquan, Hung Gar, Wing Chun, Jeet Kune Do, Praying Mantis...
He’s blended them all together.
Moves as he pleases.
Effortless mastery.
A true grandmaster.
He easily defeats these Hydra soldiers, who are overly reliant on advanced technology.
The only exception is the Winter Soldier. Despite taking the full force of the Tiger Palm and being sent flying over ten meters—smashing a wall in the process—he’s surprisingly unscathed. Is the Super Soldier Serum really that incredible?
Old Wang casually brushes imaginary dust from his clothes, places his right hand behind his back, left arm extended, and looks at the now-standing Winter Soldier with a half-smile:
“Should I call you Sergeant Barnes, or Winter Soldier?”
“Do you still remember Captain America from Brooklyn—Steve Rogers?”
...
Elsewhere.
Coulson, engaged in a gunfight with other Hydra agents, hears a calm voice in his earpiece and is momentarily stunned.
The Winter Soldier is Sergeant Barnes?
Didn’t he fall off a cliff? How could he have survived?
How is this possible?
...
S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion Headquarters.
Director’s Office.
The Director’s dark hand gestures in midair, and a holographic projection brings up the complete file on “James Buchanan Barnes.”
A few entries catch his eye:
“In 1943, Sergeant Barnes was captured by Hydra, and Dr. Zola conducted experiments on him similar to the Super Soldier Program.”
“Later rescued by Captain America, Howard Stark, and Peggy Carter.”
“His physical abilities increased beyond his previous levels; his combat performance surpassed all others, second only to Captain America.”
“In 1944, he fell from a cliff during a mission.”
“Captain America attempted to recover his body, but failed.”