In the Marvel universe, you start with a colored Hextech item.

Chapter 106 Relentless Pressure

Lynn's high-profile antics had already pushed the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents following behind to the brink of collapse.

They had to strictly follow headquarters' instructions to "only follow, not clash, and absolutely not provoke Lynn," while constantly living in fear that they might make a wrong move and die unknowingly at the hands of this ruthless killer.

No one dared to gamble on Lynn's bottom line, and no one was willing to risk their own life.

Lynn merely curled her lips in disdain at the group of agents trailing far behind her like tails.

He rode his motorcycle at a leisurely pace, taking the group around half a block before finally entering the street where the Fisk Building was located.

As soon as the car came to a stop, the surveillance vehicles parked on both sides of the street immediately and tacitly retreated several meters, maintaining a safe surveillance distance, and no one dared to step forward.

Lynn got out of the car, and Frank, who had been waiting at the building entrance for a long time, immediately came to greet her.

He was dressed in a black combat uniform, still bearing the lingering smell of gunpowder and dust. He nodded steadily to Lynn, gesturing in a voice only the two of them could hear.

"Mission accomplished perfectly."

Seeing this, Lynn turned to look at the surveillance vehicles with their windows closed on both sides of the street, gave them an exceptionally polite smile, and even waved.

It was as if he was thanking the agents for "escorting" him all the way.

The agents behind the car window felt a chill run down their spines as they watched this scene, and they all instinctively shrank back.

The building's private elevator slowly ascended, and in the enclosed space, Frank was quietly reporting all the details of the infiltration to Lynn.

"I have to say, the atmosphere inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. base in Hell's Kitchen is completely off."

Frank's voice was low, and there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

"Most of the lower-ranking agents are unaware of what is about to happen, but the mid- to high-ranking commanders are all working non-stop. Fury is already coordinating the secret outposts across the United States, and everyone is on high alert."

"Everyone inside looked grim. The patrol density was three times higher than the intelligence indicated, and the layout of both visible and hidden sentries had been completely changed. It was clear that they were preparing for a full-scale war."

"Moreover, these deployments were only completed in the last day or two. Before that, the defenses of the outpost were very weak."

.

"It's clear that Fury initially wanted to suppress the matter, but now he has really changed his mind."

"The security at the docking area wasn't particularly tight; most of the troops had been deployed to the ground entrances and control room. Nobody expected there to be..."

The infiltrators sneaked in, and I made my way directly to the helipad.

"After infiltrating, I immediately flew the entire fighter jet back, maximizing the provocative effect, which aligns with your plan to force them to take action, but—"

Frank paused for a moment, then added.

"When we flew away from the airspace of the stronghold, we still triggered the alarm. The noise was too loud to avoid."

"On the way, I intercepted a patrolling agent who had chased after me, and forced him to reveal the latest changes in the base's defenses before knocking him unconscious and dumping him on the road."

Lynn leaned against the elevator wall, her fingertips lightly tapping the handrail, listening to the report while quickly calculating in her mind.

The mission's success was entirely within his expectations.

Frank is, after all, a Level 10 agent certified by S.H.I.E.L.D. Stealth, infiltration, and intelligence gathering are his forte. Even if it's an S.H.I.E.L.D. base, such infiltration missions are just a piece of cake for him.

But that was never the point.

The key is S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury's subsequent reaction.

Will they become enraged and come knocking on your door to demand an explanation, or will they continue to swallow their anger and pretend nothing happened?

Frank's move this time wasn't a sneaky infiltration; he brazenly took a Quinjet from the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, tantamount to rubbing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s face into the ground—a blatant provocation.

If such probing fails to provoke Fury and escalate the conflict, then it speaks volumes.

and----

Rogers has already personally joined the night raid, so what about Banner, the Hulk?

Lynn will never forget this big guy who could go toe-to-toe with "Abomination" Bronsky.

His expression suddenly became somewhat strange.

Is Fury, that old fox, really planning to hide Banner as a trump card against him?

The outside world knows very little about Banner, only that he is an out-of-control gamma ray monster. But as someone who has been through it all, how could Lynn not know the Hulk's terrifying fighting power, which grows stronger the angrier he gets?

Of course, he didn't take it to heart.

While Hulk is strong, like Abomination, this kind of "tank," though lacking a giant-slayer ability, can be easily dealt with using only his Bloodrage and Noxian Guillotine skills, no matter how strong he is.

Lynn was not entirely fearless.

With that thought in mind, he had already made up his mind.

All we can do now is wait.

Frank's infiltration and the theft of the fighter jet have clearly shown Fury that it was all Lynn's doing.

If Fury can tolerate this kind of provocation without reacting at all, then he should find a more provocative way to do it.

The elevator stopped with a "ding," and the doors slowly opened, facing the open-air helipad on the top floor of the building.

Lynn patted Frank on the shoulder and chuckled, interrupting his thoughts.

"It's alright, being discovered actually makes things better."

"I was afraid they wouldn't know it was you who did it. Now all of New York knows it was me, Lynn, who sent people to steal S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Quinjet. Anyone who's not stupid knows I'm up to something."

"The main purpose of the infiltration was never to steal the plane, but to make S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury nervous."

"We can't let them drag this out any longer; time waits for no one."

"I'm afraid Fury is determined to swallow this bitter pill and pretend he didn't see it. If that doesn't get them to take action, then I'll have to do something even more exciting."

The words fell.

Lynn's self-light had landed right in the center of the tarmac.

A silver-gray Quinjet was parked steadily there, with a streamlined fuselage and a futuristic aerodynamic layout.

Gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen under the New York sun, the aircraft remained completely undamaged, even after a stealthy hijacking, without a single scratch.

Lynn's eyes lit up, and he quickly walked over, circled the fighter jet twice, and gently tapped the alloy armor of the fuselage with his fingers, feeling the hardness of the material, and clicking his tongue in amazement.

After all, who could resist a super futuristic fighter jet that combines good looks and powerful performance?

Not to mention that this was a trophy stolen from S.H.I.E.L.D., making it even more significant.

Suddenly, Lynn's eyes lit up, as if he had thought of a brilliant idea. He clapped his hands and a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

He hadn't forgotten the "Ace Pilot's Manual" that the pointy-headed Yordle Corki had given him at the end of the sixth round of the mission.

This is exactly what we need!

Perfect timing! He needs to think carefully about how to use this S.H.I.E.L.D. fighter jet to add fuel to the fire for Fury, and give this bald-headed director a good dose of rage.

It's just eight people, isn't it?

The advantage lies with me!

Meanwhile, in Hell's Kitchen, in the core conference room of a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. base.

Lynn's series of provocative actions have exhausted all the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Lynn could roam the streets of New York without a care in the world, wantonly provoking others, but they couldn't.

Because Lynn was all alone, with no ties or weaknesses that could be exploited, they had to be on high alert at all times, and couldn't even sleep soundly.

But they are different. They bear the responsibility for the safety of New York, the stability of the entire United States, and even the global security line. There can be no slackening in the slightest.

The enclosed conference room was dimly lit, with only the holographic projection on the table emitting a cold light.

Fury sat in the main seat, his eyes closed, his fingers pressing hard on his throbbing temples.

He hadn't slept for a day or two, and his eyes were filled with unconcealable fatigue and bloodshot veins.

On one hand, he had to deal with repeated pressure from the Washington Congress and the World Security Council. Those politicians who only talked the talk only clamored for him to immediately send troops to besiege Lynn, but they didn't care about the consequences of the siege failing.

On the other hand, he also had to keep a close eye on Lynn's every move, predicting the madman's next move, fearing that if the other party was unhappy, he would really turn New York upside down.

On the table, there were high-resolution photos taken by surveillance cameras when Frank infiltrated the base.

The footage only captured a masked figure in black, but those distinctive, murderous crimson eyes were enough to confirm his identity.

"Based on facial features and behavioral patterns data analysis, the person who infiltrated the base and took away the Quinjet —"

"It's Frank Castle."

Maria Hill stood at the table, expressionless, and closed the file in her hand, exuding a cool and sassy aura.

"The two patrol agents who were knocked unconscious by him only suffered mild concussions and did not suffer any fatal injuries. He did not use lethal force throughout the entire process, which is consistent with Lynn's usual style of doing things."

"This must have been Lynn's arrangement."

"The fighter jet's real-time location has remained on the rooftop helipad of the Fisk Building. It hasn't been moved or shown any signs of modification. Lynn just parked it there openly, without any intention of hiding it."

After saying that, Hill nodded to Fury, turned and left the conference room, closing the door behind him and leaving Fury and Coulson alone.

The conference room fell silent again, with only Fury's heavy breathing remaining.

Coulson sat to the side, looking at Fury's exhausted appearance. After hesitating for a long time, he finally couldn't help but ask.

"Chief, should we—go to the Fisker Building and demand an explanation from Lynn and Frank?"

"And while you're at it, fly the fighter jets back?"

"Lynn made no attempt to conceal anything; the fighter jets were openly parked on the Fisker Building's helipad. The entire New York media almost surrounded the area. If we didn't react at all, we wouldn't be able to explain ourselves to Congress and the Security Council."

He paused, then added.

"Should I lead a team over there?"

However, Fury simply sighed heavily, slowly opened his eyes, his gaze filled with complex emotions.

How could he not see through Lynn's little trick?

The other side is provoking him step by step, trying to make him lose his composure and force him to hastily launch a full-scale war without adequate preparation.

But he couldn't fall for that.

Now is definitely not the right time to start a war.

Tony's injuries haven't fully healed yet. Barton and Rhodey have woken up, but only partially. Natasha has just woken up from her coma and is extremely weak.

Rogers, the only one who could directly confront Lynn, has lost his composure due to the failed night raid last night.

Dr. Banner made it clear that he was unwilling to easily transform into the Hulk, unwilling to become a weapon of the military, and would not take action unless absolutely necessary.

Captain Marvel is his only trump card. Although he has sent out a summoning signal, the universe is vast, and no one knows when she will receive the signal or when she will arrive on Earth.

To start a war under these circumstances would be tantamount to suicide.

"I can't go."

Fury shook his head, his voice hoarse, his tone resolute and unwavering.

"Leave the fighter jets with him for now; we can't move them."

"Give those two agents who were knocked unconscious a long leave, a paid rest, and let them stay away from the front line for the time being."

"By the way, comprehensively strengthen the security management and defense deployment of all strongholds, and prevent just anyone from sneaking in."

"Continue to secretly investigate this matter. Compile all surveillance data and infiltration details into a top-secret file and report it only to me."

He looked up at Coulson, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"To the outside world, this matter will be characterized as a common equipment theft. No official statement will be issued, no retaliatory action will be taken, and no investigation results will be provided."

"Do you understand?"

"Lynn is trying to make us lose our composure and force us to launch a hasty war without adequate preparation. We absolutely cannot fall for this."

Coulson paused for a moment, then immediately understood and nodded emphatically.

"Understood, Chief."

"By the way, Natasha should be awake by now, right?"

Fury rubbed his temples and asked again.

"Yes, half an hour ago, we received news from the hospital that Natasha has fully regained consciousness and her vital signs are all stable, but she still needs to rest."

After a moment's thought, Fury made a decision.

"All surveillance of Dr. Banner is to be lifted."

"Tell him he can visit Natasha at the hospital, but he cannot move outside the Hell's Kitchen stronghold and can only move freely within it."

He knew all too well that Natasha was the only one who could keep Banner calm and get Hulk to act at crucial moments.

As he spoke, Fury's gaze fell on the dark night outside the window, and his unease grew stronger.

He had a feeling that something extraordinary was about to happen.

His plan to stall for time and wait for reinforcements will definitely be turned upside down by that madman Lynn.

Lynn was completely taken aback by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s silence.

A whole day has passed, and Fury hasn't uttered a single word.

Not only did they not come to confront us, but they didn't even issue an official statement of condemnation, as if the one whose fighter jet was stolen wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D., but some insignificant little organization.

Lynn sat in his office in the Fisker Tower, staring at the motionless New York City with disbelief on his face.

isn't it?

They practically put their faces right in front of him and let him hit them, and Fury, that old fox, just tolerated it?

-

We can't really let him go to the S.H.I.E.L.D. entrance in Hell's Kitchen and make a big fuss in public, can we?

Lynn leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers on the table. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the more something seemed off.

The more Fury restrains himself, the more it shows what he's waiting for, and the more it shows that his ultimate trump card is already on its way.

We can't wait any longer.

Immediately, Lynn stopped pretending altogether.

The next morning, as soon as the citizens of New York woke up, they witnessed a scene that left them speechless.

A signature S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet slowly took off from the Fisk Tower helipad, eventually hovering steadily over the bustling Times Square before gently landing in the center of the square.

Even more outrageous, the moment the fighter jet landed, Lynn immediately had Frank unfurl two huge red banners on either side of the jet, and even specially found spotlights to illuminate them, so that they could be clearly seen even from several streets away.

The large white characters on the banner were particularly eye-catching, naming names and making it seem as if they were afraid others wouldn't see them:

[Thanks to Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., for the generous gift of the large aircraft!]

[S.H.I.E.L.D. is so generous! Next time something like this happens, remember to call me, Lynn!]

Lynn even leaned against the fighter jet, making the same provocative gesture as last time in Times Square towards the surrounding cameras, and smiled broadly.

The square instantly erupted in chaos.

Passersby gathered around, frantically taking photos with their phones, accompanied by screams and exclamations.

Within minutes, the hashtags #LynnStealsSHIELDJet# and #LynnThanksFuryOnlineForSendingAirplane# immediately topped the trending charts on social media platforms across the United States.

Lynn trampled on the credibility of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the face of the US government as well.

Meanwhile, at the S.H.I.E.L.D. outpost in Hell's Kitchen, Fury was holding his phone, listening to the UN Security Council Secretary-General's hysterical ultimatum.

If Lynn's problem cannot be resolved within 24 hours, he will be removed from his position as director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the military will be given full control.

He had just hung up the phone when Coulson rushed in, his face pale, and projected the live feed from the square onto the holographic screen.

Looking at the glaring red banner on the screen and hearing the accountability call from Congress ringing in his ears again, Fury finally couldn't hold back any longer. He slammed his fist on the table, causing the water glass to fall to the ground and shards of glass to scatter everywhere.

He spat out a curse through gritted teeth: "Fuck you, Lynn!"

In the plaza in front of the Fisker Building, Lynn listened to the gasps and camera shutters around him, and looked at the trending topics on social media platforms that had exploded on his phone. His smile grew wider and wider.

He knew very well that this time, that old fox Fury would not be able to hold back any longer.

His forbearance was ultimately crushed under the feet of this madman.

But that's not all; Lynn wanted to do more than that.