Marvel's whitewashing cop, you want me to save the world?

Chapter 136 The Revenge Squad Assembles

Not long after, there was another knock on the office door.

The police officer pushed open the door and leaned half his body in.

The expression on his face was several levels more tense than when he had just announced Pepper's visit.

His lips moved several times, but the words that came out were hesitant and stuttering, as if he had a scalding hot potato in his mouth.

"Captain Lee Eun—Beautiful, beautiful—"

He raised his fist and pounded his chest twice, exhaling heavily before finally managing to squeeze the rest of his words out of his throat.

"Captain America wants to have a word with you."

Li En put down the official seal in his hand and stood up.

"Please let him in."

The door was pushed open completely.

Steve Rogers walked in, dressed in a dark blue casual suit.

He wasn't wearing a hood; his shield was slung over his back, wrapped in a dark gray canvas, with only a small, polished metal arc visible at the edge.

His expression was extremely serious. He walked straight to the desk and stood there. Without exchanging pleasantries or formalities, he uttered a very brief sentence.

"I need support."

Li En looked at him but did not answer immediately.

He remembered clearly that there weren't any particularly formidable or ruthless members of Hydra within S.H.I.E.L.D.

The vast majority are just specially trained special forces soldiers and agents.

Given Steve's abilities, even if those people were numerous, they shouldn't have forced him to the point where he needed to personally make a trip to the Manhattan Police Department to ask for reinforcements.

Moreover, while in New Mexico, Coulson had already re-established contact with Steve.

If manpower is needed, Hawkeye and Natasha can certainly provide support.

But Steve didn't go looking for them; instead, he came straight here.

This can only mean one thing: things have gone beyond what was expected.

Steve glanced at Brock, who was standing to the side smoking a cigar and flipping through a stack of documents, and hesitated for a moment.

Li En glanced at him, then looked away, her tone indifferent.

"Let's get straight to the point, Brock is my partner."

Steve nodded without further hesitation.

"As you might expect, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been thoroughly infiltrated by Hydra."

The headquarters is now almost entirely under their control, and Melinda has been imprisoned.

He paused for a moment, and his voice became much softer.

"Last night I tried to sneak in to rescue people, but I was intercepted by enhanced soldiers."

"Enhanced warrior?" Li En frowned slightly. "Like you?"

"That's right, and the number—there are ten." Steve's expression noticeably dimmed when he said that number. "I haven't fought any."

The weight of those four words he uttered was greater than any lengthy tactical report.

Captain America, Steve Rogers, fights from World War II to the modern era.

The man, who had been dug out of the ice, didn't even blink before donning his armor and going back into battle.

He admitted in person that he hadn't fought, directly and honestly acknowledging that he had lost.

Li En was silent for a moment, then tapped his fingers lightly twice on the edge of the desk.

"How strong is he? Compared to Frank?"

Steve shook his head slightly.

The serum they were injected with was different from mine, but it was definitely not the dragon's blood potion you used.

"Their skin was somewhat greenish, and their movements lacked the tactical coordination typical of normal soldiers; they were more like—" He paused, seemingly searching for a precise word in his mind.

"It's more like he's out of his mind, completely unconcerned about being injured or his companions' lives."

"When I was infiltrating, they blocked me from the side, and I only managed to escape with all my might."

"If those people hadn't reacted a beat slower than normal soldiers, I probably wouldn't have made it out."

"Greenish skin, mentally unstable." Li En muttered these keywords to himself, and had already pieced together the answer in his mind.

He reached into his pocket, took out his phone, found a number, and dialed it.

The busy signal rang three or four times before the call was connected.

"Mr. Norman, there's something I'd like to confirm. Did you sell those enhancement potions you developed to someone else?"

Norman Osborne's voice came from the other end of the phone, his tone calm and pragmatic, without any tension or hesitation as if he were being suddenly questioned.

"That's right. With the dragon blood potion you provided, and the dragon blood tablets we co-produced, all the things that the Osborn Group originally developed now seem like a pile of junk."

"Continuing the research is pointless and only wastes lab resources, so I had the remaining inventory packed up and disposed of."

"Who did you sell it to?" Li En pressed.

"Global United Investment Company," Norman replied quickly, clearly remembering the deal perfectly. "What happened? Is there a problem?"

"It's alright, I'll handle it. Mr. Norman, I'll continue to leave the Dragon's Blood tablet production line to you."

"Don't worry, the Osborn Group will do its best." Norman didn't ask for any details and hung up the phone decisively.

Li En took the phone away from her ear and glanced at the message on the screen indicating that the call had ended.

He tapped his fingers lightly twice on the table, then dialed another number.

The call connected extremely quickly; the other end answered almost as soon as I pressed the dial button.

"Bright, bring your team and those two temporary members to the police station."

After hanging up the phone, Li En turned to Steve.

"The enhancement drugs those people used were failed products developed by the Osborn Group before; they were never completed."

"The injection will not only destroy your sanity, but may even cause further physical mutations. Green skin is just an early symptom."

"A place like S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters is a fortification in itself, and with these fearless enhanced soldiers, it would be very difficult for you to break through alone."

He turned to the side and tilted his chin towards the office door.

"I'm allocating six members of the Hellsword squad to you."

"Their physical abilities have been enhanced by the Dragon Blood Potion, and they are also quite experienced in combat."

"With your help in making breakthroughs and setting screens, we should be able to get Melinda out of there."

"Six people?" Steve's brow remained furrowed.

He didn't come here today to act like Captain America and demand that Lee En personally take action.

But he only lent out six people, which was far fewer than he had expected.

Li En saw his doubts and, without beating around the bush, directly opened his palm and showed him each item one by one.

"Leicester is currently in Japan, chasing the Hand. The last location transmitted back this evening showed that he had already crossed Tokyo Bay."

Frank just sent me an operation report; he's in Washington dealing with the core of a killer group called the High Table.

He spread his palms out and gestured with his chin toward the stack of documents on his desk that was still more than half full.

You should already know my current situation.

Steve followed his gaze to the document and the official seal, paused for a moment, and then nodded very solemnly.

"Compared to those bastards, I genuinely support you becoming the mayor of New York City."

He had known all along.

Li En's choice of this path meant that he could no longer rush into the street at the sound of gunfire or take on trouble himself, just like before.

No matter how powerful one person is, they cannot simultaneously destroy the ruling machine of a group of politicians.

Some battles require fists, while others require official seals.

Doing these two things at the same time is the most ruthless way to drain a person's energy.

So Lee sent Frank to smash the High Table, Lester to chase the Hand, and now he's sending Bright to storm S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

He deployed all the available manpower under his command, but he himself remained locked in this office, stamping page after page of piles of documents, unable to move.

Not long after, the office door was pushed open from the outside.

Bright led the second squad, along with two young men at the back of the group.

Jessica Jones and Peter Parker filed in.

The office wasn't big to begin with, and with six more people suddenly added, the space became crowded.

Bright stood at attention two steps in front of the desk, his heels slapping together, his back ramrod straight.

"Reporting to Captain Li En, all team members are present."

After he finished his report, he raised his eyes, his gaze passing over the desk and landing on the face of the man standing next to Li En.

Bright's pupils contracted sharply, and he froze on the spot.

Captain America, Steve Rogers, was standing alive less than two steps away from him.

Seeing Brett's completely bewildered expression, Li En smiled, walked over, and patted him hard on the shoulder.

"That's right, your mission this time is to cooperate with Steve in a rescue operation."

He paused for a moment, then added a sentence.

"Remember, the priority of this operation is not killing, but saving lives."

"Wait—Lee En." Steve's gaze passed over Bright and landed on the two young men standing on either side of the doorway, and his brows furrowed again.

"Why are there two more children?"

Jessica and Peter were both wearing custom combat suits made for them by Barron.

They weren't wearing helmets at the moment, revealing two faces that still looked a bit childish.

Upon hearing the word "child," Jessica's eyebrows furrowed almost instantly.

She took a step forward, put her hands on her hips, raised her chin slightly, and looked directly into Steve's eyes, her voice not loud but full of energy.

"Hey! Don't think you can talk nonsense just because you're Captain America. I'm a college student, okay?"

Peter Parker, standing next to her, was in a completely different state.

His mouth kept opening and closing, as if he was saying something, but not a single syllable could be squeezed out of his throat.

His face was turning red at a visible rate from the base of his neck upwards, and his eyes, glued to Captain America, were frighteningly bright.

His current state is similar to that of Bright just now.

No, it's worse than Bright's case.

At least Brett could maintain his standing posture, while Peter was completely frozen next to the door frame.

His fingers unconsciously gripped the hem of his combat uniform, wrinkling the fabric in several places.

Li En ignored Peter's star-struck, oblivious expression.

He waved directly at Jessica and then pointed to the desk.

"Jessica, you and Steve have an arm wrestling match, right now."

"Okay!" Jessica said without any further words.

He strode forward and slammed his right elbow onto the desk.

Five fingers spread out, suspended in mid-air, a pair of eyes fixed intently on Steve standing opposite.

Steve looked down at Jessica's slender wrist, then looked up at his own thick forearm, which was strong enough to crush a rifle barrel with one hand.

Finally, turning to Lee Eun, Zi Guangli clearly conveyed a message: Are you kidding me?

Li En didn't reply, but simply smiled and tilted her chin towards the desk.

Steve remained silent for a moment, then walked over.

He bent down and took Jessica's hand in his right.

The moment their hands touched, his expression changed abruptly.

An immense force emanated from that seemingly thin and small hand.

It poured into his forearm along his wrist, simultaneously pushing the muscles of his entire arm to their limits.

That's not the grip strength of an ordinary person, or even the grip strength of a typical enhanced soldier.

This is power on par with his.

No, it might be even stronger.

Steve immediately dropped all his disdain.

He regained his footing on the ground, tightened his waist and abdomen, lowered his shoulders, and channeled all his strength into his right arm.

His biceps bulged under his sleeves, and the veins on his forearms stood out one after another.

The bones in his wrist made an extremely faint cracking sound under immense pressure.

He used all his strength—but his hand remained completely still.

Jessica's wrist hung suspended in mid-air, as steady as if it were riveted to the table.

Her lips curled up slightly, revealing a very cheerful smile.

"How's it going, Captain America?"

Steve released his grip and straightened up.

Looking down at his right hand, which was still trembling slightly, and then at Jessica's smiling face, which wasn't even sweaty.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, his voice carrying an extremely sincere acknowledgment.

"You are special."

He didn't say I lost, and Jessica didn't pin his wrist down in public.

But both of them understood what had just happened.

Steve had used all his strength, while Jessica's wrist didn't tremble even slightly from beginning to end.

This is not a draw.

This is the other party giving him face.

Li En was not surprised by the result.

Jessica herself possesses strength far exceeding that of ordinary people.

Before being injected with the dragon blood potion, she could jump dozens of meters into the air from a standing position and punch through a wall.

The effect of the dragon blood potion was not to grant her new abilities.

Instead, it involves repairing and strengthening the body at the cellular level, building upon its existing foundation.

Her physical abilities were elevated to a new level, and her foundation was already much stronger than that of humans like Steve who relied on serum enhancement.

The same applies to Peter Parker, who was standing at the door, too excited to speak.

That kid is much stronger physically than Jessica, but he's never been too embarrassed to show it.

After Steve let go, he didn't mention anything more about not having enough manpower or that they were still children.

He fastened the shield back on his back, turned around, and walked towards the door.

As he passed Peter, he reached out and gently patted the man on the shoulder.

Peter shuddered, his mouth opened and closed, almost choking himself.

Jessica pulled her arm off the desk, flexing her wrist as she followed the group out.

Bright and the three team members turned around at the same time and followed Steve out in single file.

Li En stood in front of the desk, and just as the last person's footsteps were about to disappear at the end of the corridor, he spoke one last sentence.

"If anything goes wrong, I'll be there for you."

Steve didn't turn around.

He raised his right arm, spread his five fingers, and waved it in mid-air.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters building.

In the shadows a few hundred meters away from the building, Steve Rogers was unwrapping the canvas covering the shield, layer by layer.

He moved slowly, untying each knot with utmost care. After the canvas hit the ground, he folded it neatly and placed it in a corner among a pile of discarded building materials.

Then he took out the neatly folded uniform from his backpack.

The upper body is blue, with red and white stripes running across the abdomen, and the white five-pointed star in the center of the chest still has a very faint matte sheen in the dim night.

He put on his tactical pants one by one, tightened the nylon buckle around his waist, and tied the laces of his tactical boots tightly.

Finally, I fastened the helmet to my head, and the chin strap clicked as it locked into the buckle.

He picked up the vibranium shield with his right hand and threaded his left arm through the inner strap.

With a flick of his wrist, the edge of the shield cut through the air with a barely audible whistling sound, then settled firmly against his forearm.

There's a reason he put the uniform back on.

He never equated S.H.I.E.L.D. with Hydra.

Even inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, there are still agents with genuine righteous intentions.

Those people, completely unaware of the truth, were manipulated by Hydra's lies into believing they were carrying out a mission to protect the world.

They are not the enemy; they have simply been deceived.

He walked through that door as Captain America.

Perhaps this will help those agents who are still hesitant and doubtful to see clearly which side they should stand on.

At least, they won't stand in his way at crucial moments.

There's still a little while before night falls completely.

He turned around and looked at the six Hellsword members standing behind him.

To be precise, there are four official team members plus two reserve members.

The four official members were dressed in extremely uniform special operations suits.

The bulletproof vest has the iconic white skull printed on the chest, with a blood-red dagger in the skull's mouth.

Each person's equipment configuration was exactly the same: the main weapon was an automatic rifle, grenades and spare magazines were hung on their waist, tactical pistols were tucked into their thighs, and short-handled hand axes were tucked into their back waist.

They stood in perfect unison, motionless as pines.

But the two alternates were completely different.

Jessica Jones was also wearing a bulletproof vest with the Hellsword logo.

But underneath the vest weren't combat pants, just a pair of very ordinary black sweatpants, the cuffs tucked into a pair of soft-soled sneakers.

She wore a pair of metal gauntlets that covered her entire forearm.

It is made of gold alloy and has a matte, cool gray finish.

The gloves extend all the way to the middle of the forearm and are much thicker than ordinary fighting gloves.

From certain angles, you can see several extremely fine seams embedded in the outer shell, which likely conceal other mechanisms.

Peter Parker, standing next to her, was a completely different story.

He was wearing a black bodysuit with the Hellsword Squad logo painted in the center of his chest and a dark red spider pattern with eight outstretched limbs on his back.

The material of the bodysuit appears to be much thinner than ordinary combat uniforms, with obvious elastic pleats at the joints.

There were no guns or even a knife hanging on his belt.

Standing among the fully armed regular team members around him, whose belts were full of spare magazines, he looked like a young antelope that hadn't yet grown horns that had wandered into a herd of rhinos.

Steve examined the differences in equipment between the two men twice and had already formed a preliminary judgment in his mind:

Peter Parker's abilities are likely more unique than Jessica's.

When a person's body itself is already powerful enough to be a weapon, excessive equipment will only limit its effectiveness.

However, he was somewhat surprised that these two men didn't even bring a basic handgun, or even a dagger.

Peter noticed the look Steve was giving him.

His mouth started moving almost reflexively.

Unlike when he was in the police station office earlier, so excited that he couldn't utter a complete sentence.

This time, at least he was able to make a sound.

But as the sounds traveled from the throat to the lips, they seemed to be tangled up by something.

All the words were pushing out at the same time, none of them giving way to the others.

When it finally came out of my mouth, it had turned into a pot of overcooked vocabulary porridge.

"Hello, Captain America—oh no, hello, Captain Steve—no, I meant to say—oh dear I..."

""

Its mouth kept moving, showing no intention of stopping.

Even if each sentence is interrupted halfway through, overturned by the next sentence, his vocal cords continue to vibrate stubbornly.

"My main abilities are that I am strong enough to climb walls, and I have a special spider silk projectile device on my wrist that can trap enemies."

As the instructors had mentioned in previous tactics lessons, squad operations require the commander to fully understand the capabilities of each member in order to better allocate tasks.

So what do you think I should do later? My role is quite flexible.

If it's necessary to bypass them from the side and block their retreat, I can do that.

If I need to hold off their fire from a high vantage point, I can do that too—”

He learned this knowledge in tactical theory classes at Umbrella Academy after becoming a candidate for Hellsword.

And the practical experience that the veteran team members would casually teach him when he went out on missions with the patrol team from time to time.

He had crammed all of this into his head, and then, in this moment, facing the living, breathing Captain America, he poured it all out.

He even revealed his own ability parameters.

"Based on the extreme power test I did in the lab last time, my punching power is roughly between twenty and twenty-five tons. Of course, this is just test data, and it will fluctuate during actual combat."

"What?" Steve's pupils contracted sharply, and his eyes widened beneath the helmet visor.

"You just said—twenty-five tons?"

Peter looked a little embarrassed when asked this question.

He raised his right fist, cracked his knuckles, and spoke with a hint of guilt, as if he were trying to defend himself.

"Actually, if you go all out and don't hold back at all, you could probably do quite a lot more."

"But Captain Frank said I've always had a habit of subconsciously pulling my fist back."

"Because I'm afraid of killing someone, even when I'm doing extreme tests, my body will automatically reduce its output."

He loosened his fist and then clenched it again, as if to confirm whether he had still broken the habit.

"So—the actual data should be about twice as high, probably."