9: Chapter 9 High Alert, Nick Fury's Cold Sweat

S.H.I.E.L.D., Helicarrier.

Above the stratosphere at an altitude of 30,000 feet, the massive circular command center was deathly silent.

Nick Fury stood before the main control screen, his one remaining eye fixed intently on the Siberian satellite exploration report scrolling across it.

"Officer, the on-site exploration team has transmitted the final data."

Deputy Maria Hill walked quickly to the command console and handed a physical folder to Fury. Her speech was rapid, but her voice carried a hint of uncontrollable trembling.

"The secret HYDRA Base underground in Siberia Area 143 has completely vanished from a physical standpoint. It left behind a vertical crater five hundred meters in diameter and a thousand meters deep."

Fury took the folder, did not open it, and asked coldly, "What about the residual radiation from the nuclear reactor?"

"That is also the most bizarre part." Hill took a deep breath. "There is no radiation. The Geiger counter shows that the radiation level at the site is even lower than in New York Times Square. It is as if... the energy from the nuclear explosion, which was enough to destroy half of Siberia, evaporated into thin air."

Fury's one eye narrowed. "What about those twelve 100,000-ton titanium alloy blast doors?"

Hill pulled up a high-definition photo of the scene.

In the photo, the inner wall of the crater was exceptionally smooth, reflecting a bizarre, dark red crystalline sheen.

"No wreckage of the doors was found." Hill pointed to the screen. "Exploration experts analyzed that the temperature of tens of millions of degrees instantly vaporized the metal. Those dark red crystals are metallic glass formed after the 100,000 tons of titanium alloy cooled. Officer, even the nuclear bombs in our arsenal cannot achieve this level of directional melting."

Fury was silent.

He turned and walked toward the medical isolation chamber at the back of the command center.

"How is the only survivor?"

"Brock Rumlow. Our most outstanding special forces Captain." Hill followed behind Fury, her tone heavy. "We dug him out of the scorched Earth at the edge of the crater. He was leading a team to clear out that HYDRA Base at the time. Twenty elite members were wiped out, and only he survived, but..."

The automatic door of the isolation chamber slid open.

A pungent smell of disinfectant rushed out.

Brock Rumlow, a top field Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., was currently tied up on the medical bed. He was not unconscious; his eyes were staring fixedly at the ceiling, his eyeballs bloodshot, and his throat kept emitting a hissing sound like a Beast.

"Director Fury." The attending Doctor walked over and hung an X-ray film on the viewing light.

Fury looked up and his pupils constricted sharply.

It was an X-ray of Rumlow's back.

There were no fracture cracks because there were no complete bones to be found. Rumlow's shoulder blades on both sides appeared as powdery shadows under the X-ray.

"It was not a sharp weapon cut, nor a blunt force impact." The Doctor pushed up his glasses, cold sweat sliding down his forehead. "It was pure grip strength. Something grabbed his shoulders with one hand and crushed the hardest shoulder blades into bone powder while he was alive. This kind of grip strength has already surpassed the limits of carbon-based life."

Fury walked to the hospital bed and looked down at the convulsing Rumlow.

"Rumlow, look at me. Tell me, what exactly happened underground."

Hearing Fury's voice, Rumlow's unfocused pupils finally focused.

He turned his head and stared fixedly at Fury's one eye. Then, on his originally pale face, a look of extremely twisted fear and a miserable smile appeared.

"Monster... a four-armed monster..."

Rumlow's voice was as hoarse as sandpaper rubbing together. "He is not afraid of bullets... He tore apart the armored vehicle... He ate the Fire of the nuclear explosion..."

"What four-armed monster?" Fury's brows locked tight, and he grabbed Rumlow by the collar.

"He asked me to bring you a message." Rumlow ignored Fury's interrogation and just nervously repeated the words that had been carved deep into his soul. "He told me to tell you... wash your neck clean and wait for him..."

"Crack!"

With a crisp sound, the ceramic coffee cup in Fury's hand was crushed, causing a crack.

Hot black coffee dripped along the fissure onto Fury's black leather jacket, but he seemed completely unaware.

As the king of Agents who holds the most secrets on this Planet, Fury has seen all kinds of supernatural powers. But at this moment, looking at Rumlow's completely broken gaze, and looking at that exploration report that physics could not explain, a chill named "out of control" shot straight up his spine to his brain.

A monster with a huge body, four arms, capable of crushing bones with one hand, and even swallowing the energy of a nuclear explosion.

Moreover, this monster had already set its sights on S.H.I.E.L.D..

Fury released Rumlow's collar and turned to walk out of the isolation chamber with long strides.

The ceramic cup completely shattered, and coffee spilled all over the floor.

"Hill!"

Fury's voice echoed in the corridor, carrying unprecedented severity.

"Activate the maximum alert mechanism! Raise the threat level of this unknown creature directly to 'Omega Level' (World-Ending Level)!"

"Notify the intelligence department, call up all reconnaissance satellites in Earth orbit, and conduct a global infrared grid scan for me! Even if you have to dig three feet into the ground, find that four-meter-tall, four-armed red monster for me!"

"Yes! Officer!"

The massive state machine of S.H.I.E.L.D. began to operate frantically because of a monster with an unknown name.

Everyone turned their gaze to the sky and the wilderness, trying to find a giant Beast the size of a building.

However, they made a fatal mistake.

...

At the same time.

United States, New York.

The heavy rain poured down, washing over the dirtiest corner of this bustling metropolis—Hells Kitchen.

In a dark alley without streetlights, the sour smell of fermenting garbage wafted out. Several large rats scurried about in the sewage pit.

"Plop."

A foot wearing worn-out military boots stepped into a puddle.

The rats fled in terror in all directions.

Lynn, wrapped in the heavy military coat stripped from a Siberian HYDRA guard, pulled his hood low to cover most of his face.

After a full week of smuggling on a cargo ship, he finally crossed the Bering Strait and arrived in New York, known as the "Sin City."

Lynn leaned against the cold brick wall of the alley and raised his left hand.

On his wrist, the inverted triangular Bloodtrix that was connected to his flesh and blood was currently a dull gray.

The energy load from devouring the nuclear explosion was too great, and the Bloodtrix was currently in a deep cooling period lasting several days. He could not transform now; he was just a body of flesh and blood possessing the limit of human physical fitness.

The cold wind mixed with rain blew past.

Lynn touched his shriveled stomach. The stronger the physical fitness, the faster the metabolism. He not only needed ordinary food, but the Bloodtrix also needed "nutrients" containing high-energy genes to accelerate repairs.

"Bang!"

In the abandoned warehouse at the end of the alley, a muffled gunshot suddenly rang out, accompanied by a man's scream.

Lynn slowly raised his head.

In his black pupils under the hood, there was no fear that ordinary people would have when facing a gunshot, only the coldness of a predator discovering prey.

He listened to the arrogant cursing and the sound of heavy objects hitting the ground coming from the warehouse.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is looking for a monster."

Lynn played with the tactical knife he had swiped from the Baron, his mouth curling into a cruel arc.

"But they don't know that monsters also need to eat."

He gripped the knife, took a step, and walked into the night of Hells Kitchen.