The Savior of American Comics? I'm the Subspace Evil God!

Chapters 521, 958, and 959: Fury: It really wasn't me!

"you……"

What truly chilled Steker Pantecost to the bone, making him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave, was the arm that was gripping his collar.

Starting from the shoulder, it was not flesh and blood at all, but a silver-white mechanical arm that gleamed with a cold metallic light, had a precise structure, and was full of powerful strength!
At the shoulder joint, there was a striking red five-pointed star painted on it, which, in the dim light, resembled a blood-red curse, deeply piercing the visual nerves of Steker Pentecost.

Faced with Stark Pantecost's terrified questioning, the man with the robotic arm did not respond at all.

There wasn't even a ripple in those cold blue eyes.

He carried the nearly suffocating Steker Pantecost with steady, silent steps toward the huge open-air balcony on the other side of the living room, as if dragging a lifeless piece of cargo.

A deep-seated fear gripped Steker Pantecost instantly.

He had already realized the other party's true intentions.

"Uh, wait...wait a minute, please wait a minute!!"

Steker Pantecost kicked his legs in vain and tried desperately with his hands to pry open the mechanical hand that was like an iron clamp, but it was like an ant trying to shake a tree, and he couldn't budge it.

Extreme fear distorted his voice, and he pleaded in a trembling voice filled with pleas and despair, "It was...it was Nick Fury who sent you to kill me, wasn't it?!"

"Please...don't kill me! Tell him, tell Nick Fury, those Titan Hunter armors, I...I don't want them anymore, give them all to him, even the PPDC organization! I...I don't want anything anymore!!"

"Please spare me! I will leave Washington, leave America... and go to a place where no one can find me to live in seclusion. I swear I will never appear in the public eye again. Please... please spare my life!!"

In the face of life and death, dignity, pride, and all past glories become insignificant.

He had only one thought in his mind: to survive by any means necessary, even if it meant living as humbly as an ant...

However, his pleas went unanswered, like a stone sinking into the sea.

The mechanical arm holding him by the neck completely ignored his pleas for mercy and did not stop moving in the slightest.

The automatic glass door to the balcony slid open silently, letting in the cool night air that sent a shiver down Steker Pantecost's spine.

He was roughly dragged to the edge of the balcony, half of his body already dangling in the air.

Below, there was a 20-story building that seemed like an abyss...

The city lights in the distance appeared distant and blurry in his eyes.

"No...no! Aaaaaaahh ...

Steker Pantecost let out the final, desperate scream of his life.

The robotic arm man easily released his grip and ruthlessly threw him off the building.

A strong feeling of weightlessness came over me instantly.

Steker Pantecost's body tumbled helplessly in the air before plummeting to the ground...

The wind howled shrilly in his ears, and the city lights below swirled like a kaleidoscope. The extreme fear even robbed him of the ability to scream.

About three to five seconds later.

boom--! ! !
A dull, loud thud came from the street below.

The sound wasn't loud, but it sounded particularly eerie in the quiet night.

Then came a brief, deathly silence.

A moment later, a woman's piercing, heart-wrenching scream tore through the night sky: "Help!!! Someone...someone jumped off a building! Call an ambulance! Someone...someone's dead!!!"

Edge of the balcony.

The robotic arm-wielding man stood like a cold statue, indifferently looking down at the rapidly gathering crowd and lights below.

His sharp gaze precisely locked onto the rapidly spreading, irregular blackish-red stain on the sidewalk below, and next to it, the twisted and deformed, blurry 'flesh and blood' that had once been named Steker Pantecost.

After confirming that the target had completely lost vital signs and turned into a "meat pie," he turned around expressionlessly and returned to the living room.

He then pulled a sealed, transparent evidence bag from his tactical leg pouch, inside which was a folded letter.

With his tactical gloved fingers, he took out the "handwritten suicide note" and gently placed it in the most conspicuous position on the expensive mahogany coffee table in the living room.

The angle and position of the envelope were carefully calculated to ensure it could be discovered immediately.

After doing all this, he looked around again to make sure he hadn't left any traces that didn't belong to this place.

Then, just as he had come, he silently retreated into the deepest shadow in the living room, as if he had never been there, and left without a sound.

…………

……

The next morning.

[S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters].

Director's Office.

Sunlight streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating Nick Fury's office.

He sat with his back to the door in a comfortable high-backed executive chair, intently admiring the beautiful view of the Potomac River outside the window, enjoying this rare moment of undisturbed tranquility.

boom--! ! !
The heavy solid wood door to the office was pushed open rather roughly, and the tall figure appeared without even being announced by the secretary outside.

Captain America Steve Rogers strode in with a frosty expression.

He was dressed in civilian clothes, but his upright posture and tense expression carried a hint of the grimness of a battlefield.

His azure eyes burned with suppressed rage as he walked straight to Nick Fury's large desk without any hesitation.

"Fury!!"

Although Captain America was trying his best to suppress his anger, his voice was still full of a certain power, like a sharp sword about to be drawn: "What you did this time really went too far."

Nick Fury didn't turn around immediately, nor did he make the slightest movement in response to the sudden intrusion and accusation. Captain America, hands on the smooth tabletop, leaned forward, his eyes fixed intently on Nick Fury's back, and continued indignantly:
"Why did you insist on sending someone to assassinate General Pentecost? Was it just because he refused to submit and disagreed with handing over those Titan Hunter mechs to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Is this how you solve problems? With such...dirty tricks?!"

silence.

After a few seconds of suffocating silence, Nick Fury's executive chair finally spun around slowly.

His dark, scarred face betrayed no emotion, but his single eye, sharp as ever, calmly stared at the enraged Captain America.

Faced with the menacing Captain America, he didn't answer the question, but instead asked in a casual, unhurried tone:
"You've been to the scene?"

"Of course, but that's not the point..."

"Did you find anything?"

Faced with this shameless act of asking questions without answering, Captain America frowned in anger, but still answered stiffly under the other's gaze:
"After receiving the notification, I went there immediately... but the nearby surveillance cameras had been jammed and covered up using sophisticated technical means, and there was no valuable footage..."

"The killer staged the scene to look like a suicide and even left a damn 'suicide note'... but I still found this."

Captain America snorted and slammed a button on the table with a 'smack'—the very same button that had ripped off Stark Pentecost's uniform earlier. He then said in a disgruntled tone:
“Although I cannot prove that this was left behind by General Pentecost during his fight with the murderer, but… Fury, I absolutely do not believe that the man committed suicide!”

“Oh?” Nick Fury narrowed his one eye slightly, leaned back in his chair, and placed his hands crossed on the table. “You sound like you know a lot about Stephen Pentecost? Are you two close?”

“I’m not very familiar with him; in fact, we have almost no personal relationship or interaction.”

Captain America readily admitted without hesitation, his tone unwavering, "But I've heard a lot about him! I've met many people similar to him, so I know what kind of person he is..."

"That's why I don't believe that a commander who dared to stand up at a critical moment for humanity's survival and lead the [PPDC Organization] against the [Kaiju] invasion, a steel behemoth who could command a giant steel beast to fight monsters at a depth of 10,000 meters in the ocean, a man with a will as firm as steel, would choose to end his life in such a cowardly way as jumping off a building because of a single setback?!"

"This doesn't make any sense at all."

Nick Fury didn't rush to explain, but continued, "Then why do you think it's definitely me who ordered this?"

"Besides you, who else...?" Captain America asked without hesitation.

He really wanted to say, "Who else but you could be so despicable?" but he forced himself to keep his words to himself.

"That's exactly the crux of the problem, Captain."

Nick Fury finally sat up straight, picked up the button from the table, a sharp glint in his single eye, and his tone became serious as he said in a deep voice:

"That's why, even after I've already sent Agent Natasha Romanov, a top expert in site investigation and camouflage, to the scene, I still need you, one of the greatest warriors in history with a perspective different from that of an agent, to re-examine the scene."

He paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts: "You and she have completely different perspectives and ways of thinking about problems."

"Her conclusion was that 'the scene was perfectly staged, with no obvious flaws, consistent with suicide,' while your intuition..."

“But such an explanation cannot dispel my suspicions about you, Fury.”

Captain America interrupted Nick Fury, his eyes still full of distrust, "There is a lack of necessary trust between us right now, and some of your past 'records' make it hard for me not to connect this to you."

"What the hell?!"

Nick Fury seemed to be completely ignited by this word. He jumped up from his chair like a cat with its fur standing on end, leaning forward so much that he was almost touching Captain America's face across the table.

His single eye glared open in fury, pointing at his left eye, which was covered by a black pirate eyepatch, and he roared in the office like thunder:
"Trust? You're talking to me about trust?! Look at this! Look closely!"

He forcefully ripped off the eye patch over his left eye. "This is the price I paid for trusting someone without reservation last time... One eye, gone just like that! You fucking dare to talk to me about trust?!"

A tremendous roar echoed through the spacious office.

Nick Fury's chest heaved violently, as if he had been deeply stung by the word "trust".

But if Carl or Carol Danvers were there, they would definitely give Nick Fury a thumbs up and say: "Damn, that acting is truly Oscar-worthy!"

A few seconds later, Nick Fury seemed to forcefully suppress his anger, but his voice was still somewhat cold as he spoke:

“Listen, Captain, although I don’t fucking need to make any promises to you or anyone in this world, I still have to tell you that I haven’t done anything that crossed the line in all of this regarding Strick Pantecost’s ‘suicide’.”

"And no assassination orders were ever issued!"

His wide-open single eye stared intently into Captain America's eyes as he said, word by word, "If... if I, Nick Fury, really wanted him to disappear, if I really needed to take those 'necessary' measures, I would definitely send Romanoff to do it. She would do it flawlessly, so perfectly that you wouldn't be able to find a single suspicious point!"

"You have to admit, in this respect, she has always been one of the best in the world."

“So…” Nick Fury stated his conclusion decisively, “Stefan Pentecost’s death has absolutely nothing to do with me, or with S.H.I.E.L.D.!”

He took a deep breath, sat back down in his chair, and said in a slightly softer tone, but still with a heavy heart: “However… I also feel that there are many strange things about this matter.”

"The timing of his 'suicide' was too coincidental; it happened right when the PPDC organization was being disbanded and the debate over the ownership of those Titan Hunter mechs was at its most intense."

"Oh, right, and that suicide note..."

Nick Fury seemed to suddenly remember something, pulled open his desk drawer, took out a document, slammed it on the table with a "thud," and then forcefully pushed it toward Captain America.

"Captain, you haven't read the full contents of this 'suicide note' yet, have you?"

"Those old men in the Security Council 'thoughtfully' faxed me a copy right away... Take a good look, Captain."

Captain America glanced at the other person with some suspicion, then reached out and picked up the 'last will' printed on A4 paper.

His sharp eyes quickly swept over the words on the paper.

The further down he looked, the more tightly his thick eyebrows furrowed.

This is indeed a strongly worded "suicide note" filled with despair and accusation.

The letter described in detail how Steker Pantecost fell into deep self-blame and despair because of the failure of the PPDC organization, and how he felt abandoned by the world.

More importantly, the letter devoted a large portion to how Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. took advantage of the situation, coerced and lured Fury into attempting to forcibly seize the remaining assets of the PPDC organization, especially the six Titan Hunter mechs, thus driving him to the brink of despair.

The text is filled with resentment and accusations against Nick Fury personally...

(End of this chapter)