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

Chapter 137 Decapitation Technique

A moment of silence fell over the alley.

No one present knew his specific physical data.

Jessica and others only knew that he was very strong; she had challenged him to arm wrestling and high jump several times, but had never won.

What angered her most was that he always looked embarrassed, which infuriated her, but she couldn't vent her anger on him.

Under the gaze of everyone, he immediately spread his palms out and waved them rapidly in front of him several times, his speaking speed increasing even more than when he was revealing his ability parameters earlier.

"But! Captain Steve, I don't really want to kill anyone, and Captain Lee agrees with that."

"He told me personally that I can fight in my own way, as long as it doesn't affect the mission."

Steve looked at Pi's eyes, which shone with an almost youthful light even in the darkness, remained silent for a moment, and then smiled.

"I fully support this idea: you can be a soldier, but don't kill."

After thinking for a moment, he corrected himself, saying, "You don't need to be a soldier or a hero!"

Upon hearing this, Peter's heart, which had been pounding wildly ever since he first met Captain America, finally calmed down a little.

Although I don't know what the difference is between a warrior and a hero, Captain Li En said that we can figure it out slowly.

He patted his chest twice, making a dull thud, and grinned.

"Yes! My fighting style mainly involves tying up the enemy, binding their hands and feet with spider silk, and then hanging them on streetlights or fire ladders."

Basically, just make sure they can't do anything. That's how we dealt with thieves and robbers in Queens before.

Before he could finish speaking, Jessica, who was standing next to him, finally couldn't hold back anymore.

She stepped to the side and blocked his way, pushing the still-chattering boy half a meter away.

Then he raised his fists and showed Steve his zinc alloy boxing gloves.

She extended her right index finger, with the tip pointing upwards.

An extremely thin arc of blue electricity leaped from the knuckles of the gauntlet, snapped at the fingertip, and then dissipated into the air.

"If it's purely a contest of strength, I can't beat this chatterbox."

As she spoke, she tilted her head and gestured with her chin in his direction, then turned back to look at Steve with a serious expression.

"But in terms of combat experience, I am much better than this kid, and I also have no intention of killing anyone."

She turned her fist over, revealing the palm side of the glove, which was inlaid with several rows of fine metal contacts.

"These boxing gloves can release a strong electric current; if I touch them, I can take someone down instantly."

"I won't die, but I definitely won't be able to stand up for a while. Ordinary rifle bullets hit me—"

She paused, mentally verifying the accuracy of the data, before continuing.

"I used to be able to puncture it, but my body recovers very quickly, and the wound heals on its own in no time."

"After being injected with the dragon's blood serum, my skin density is much higher than before. Now, bullets of ordinary caliber can no longer penetrate it, but large caliber bullets can still get through."

Speaking of this, she looked at Bi again. This kid hadn't been injured in any of the tests, and his overall physical fitness was much better than hers.

Steve stood there, absorbing the abilities of the two young men one by one into his mind.

He is rapidly developing tactics; with these two soldiers possessing combat capabilities surpassing even super soldiers, there will be more options for combat methods.

A punch with nearly two thousand tons of force, wall climbing, long-range restraint, electric shock to stun, and immunity to conventional bullets.

Either of these two so-called reserve members, taken individually, already surpasses most of the super soldiers he has ever seen.

The two of them were standing in front of him, one of them endlessly explaining the parameters of his ability.

One of them held up his boxing gloves to show him the sparks, his face beaming with barely suppressed excitement.

He took a deep breath and turned his gaze to Brett, who had been standing silently to the side.

"Can you do these things too?"

Bright shook his head, his expression calm and composed.

"The few of us are just a bit stronger than the average person, with faster reaction times and longer endurance."

"But compared to these two, the gap is not small at all."

He paused, straightened his back even more, and there was no trace of inferiority or hesitation in his voice.

"However, we are real soldiers."

After hearing this, Steve stared into Bright's eyes for a moment, then nodded heavily.

He turned around, held his shield horizontally in front of him, and began assigning tasks.

"Bright, you lead your squad through the front door and create as much chaos as possible."

Draw all available defensive forces from the main hall and the first two floors to your side.

"No need to go deep; just make them think the main attack direction is at the front gate."

He turned around to face Jessica and Peter, and pointed to the side of the building, where there was an annex building less than a few dozen meters away from the main headquarters building.

"Jessica, Pi, you two come with me."

"We'll go around from the side, climb to the top of that annex building, and then try to cut directly into the upper floors of the headquarters building."

"The top floor area is usually the office area for senior officials and the command level."

If we can capture a few alive and pry them into revealing the exact location where Melinda is being held, we can avoid having to search floor by floor.

Once on the top floor, capture all targets you encounter alive if possible.

"Yes." Bright's heels smacked together as he readily accepted the order.

For official members of the Sword of Hell, the mission is paramount.

The act of charging head-on to draw enemy fire is essentially no different from charging forward through an alleyway with the claws and fangs of dark creatures.

As long as they can complete the mission, they don't care who acts as bait or who leads the attack.

For Jessica and Peter, it felt like a dream.

The two of them were actually going to join Captain America on a decapitation mission.

Instead of standing in the back row to provide cover or on the perimeter, they directly followed the captain to infiltrate the enemy command structure.

This can only mean one thing: Steve didn't treat them as new recruits who needed to be taken care of, but genuinely recognized their abilities as they had just reported.

Night finally fell completely.

The building's glass curtain wall reflected the scattered lights of boats on the Potomac River in the distance in the darkness.

The entire building resembled a giant beehive enveloped in silence, with only a very few windows still lit.

Steve tilted his chin toward Bright.

Bright turned around and made a very simple forward gesture in the air with his right hand.

The three team members simultaneously dispersed in the shadows, and a moment later reappeared at the edge of the streetlight's glow, swaggering towards the main entrance of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters building.

They didn't crouch down, didn't seek cover, and didn't try to hide their whereabouts.

The four men formed a standard tactical advance formation, their boots making a rhythmic, heavy thud on the marble steps.

The muzzle is pointing diagonally, but the fingers are entirely on the trigger guard.

Just as the guard at the door raised his hand to stop them, Bright swung his rifle butt and smashed it into the side of the man's head.

The man slumped to the side, landing on the edge of the flowerbed and slamming into the marble steps with a thud.

The next second, alarms went off simultaneously throughout the entire hall.

Red warning lights spun wildly around the ceiling, and piercing alarms echoed throughout the building.

The agents who had been flipping through documents at their desks in the lobby or chatting over coffee in the corridor all drew their guns and rushed toward the door.

Bright and his squad had already found cover in the middle of the hall, bullets hitting their bulletproof vests with a dull thud.

Gunshots, shouts, alarms, and the cracking sound of bullets hitting marble walls.

Within seconds, the entire first-floor lobby was turned into a boiling pot of porridge.

Meanwhile, Steve, along with Jessica and Peter, had arrived at the rooftop of the annex building.

He half-squatted on the edge of the rooftop, raising both hands simultaneously.

Two strands of spider silk shot out from the launcher on the wrist and precisely stuck to the two thick ventilation duct pillars on the left and right sides of the rooftop.

He pulled back with both hands, stretching the spider silk to its limit, making an extremely faint buzzing sound in the night wind.

Then he lowered his body, bent his legs, and used his torso as a slingshot's rubber band, pulling the spider silk to the limit of his control.

"Jessica, wrap your arms around my waist! Captain, step on my foot!"

Without saying a word, Jessica wrapped her arms around Peter's waist, interlaced her fingers in front of his abdomen, and pressed her body tightly against his back.

Steve took a few steps back, took a deep breath, and then suddenly sprinted a short distance in the other direction.

He leaped into the air less than half a meter away from the other.

The soles of the combat boots landed precisely on the balls of his feet. His knees bent, his body curled into a ball, and he pressed all his weight onto that small contact surface.

With a sudden kick, Steve was sent flying into the air. Jessica braced herself against the ground with her feet, managing to withstand the recoil.

The next moment, Peter and Jessica were released from the slingshot's maximum tension.

The moment the spider silk snapped, it made a very crisp cracking sound.

The two quickly caught up with Stephen, and the three of them traced a very high parabola in the night sky.

It flew towards the rooftop of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters building.

The wind howled wildly in both ears, Peter's tight-fitting clothes clung to his skin under the pressure of the airflow, and Jessica's sweatpants fluttered in the wind.

During this brief moment of mid-air suspension, Steve used his shield to protect the front of the three people from the wind.

When they were halfway up in the air, Jessica suddenly released her arms from around his waist.

She flipped in mid-air, placed her right foot on his back, bent her knee, and then straightened it with a powerful push.

Using the recoil from that push, she was launched off his back.

It leaped over Steve's head like a cannonball, heading towards the rooftop of the building.

Almost simultaneously, Peter flicked out a web from his right hand, which stuck to Jessica's wrist, while his left hand shot out another web upwards, which grabbed the metal railing at the edge of the building's rooftop.

The two spider silks tightened simultaneously, and with Jessica's help, the two of them tumbled and landed on the rooftop.

The next moment, Peter immediately shot a web at Steve, who was still below.

Spider silk shot out from his wrist, sticking to Steve's shield. With a sudden tug, Peter pulled him straight to the rooftop.

Steve landed with his knees slightly bent, his shield hitting his body before he landed.

He absorbed all the impact into the concrete floor slab, rolled over, and then stood up again.

Steve straightened up and glanced at the iron door on the rooftop that led into the building.

He took two steps forward, raised his right foot, and kicked out at the center of the door.

boom!

The entire iron door, along with its frame, flew inwards and crashed into the corridor wall with a dull thud.

Without pausing, he held his shield horizontally in front of him and charged directly into the stairwell leading to the top-floor office area.

Jessica and Peter followed closely behind, one on each side, the electric arcs on their boxing gloves crackling.

Peter's web-shooting device had already lit up with a green indicator light on his wrist, indicating that it was ready to fire.

"Remember, capture them alive first."

Alexander Pierce stood in front of the huge window of the chief's office, listening to the gunshots and sirens coming from downstairs.

His increasingly gloomy face was reflected in the glass curtain wall, and the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

Without hesitating for long, he turned around, walked to his desk, and slapped down the red emergency button hidden behind a decorative painting on the wall.

The piercing alarm immediately blared in the upper floors of the building, and the lights in the corridors switched to a dark red emergency mode.

At the same time, he opened the drawer and pressed the black remote control inside, which had no markings.

In a locked isolation room deep inside the building, a dozen pairs of eyes that had been closed opened simultaneously.

The irises of those eyes had turned completely cloudy and dark yellow, the pupils had shrunk to the size of pinpoints, and the whites of their eyes were covered with dense, dark green blood vessels.

They can no longer be referred to as "them".

Their skin has an extremely abnormal dark green color.

It looked as if it had been soaked in some kind of chemical solution for too long; the surface of the skin had a moist and sticky sheen under the light.

Their lips were mostly rotten, revealing their shrunken gums and a set of crooked teeth, and they kept making hoarse and meaningless howls from their throats.

The moment the lock on the isolation room door popped open, more than a dozen enhanced warriors rushed out at the same time.

They climbed up the stairwell using both their hands and feet, moving so fast that it was impossible to see where each step touched.

The objective was clear: to stand guard in the only corridor leading to Pierce's top-floor office and tear anyone who tried to get close to him to shreds.

These enhanced warriors have lost their human thinking abilities, leaving only their implanted instincts.

The injections given to these enhanced soldiers are likely inferior super-soldier drugs developed by the military.

It can be described as a super-weakened, mutated version of the Hulk.

Steve and his two companions rushed down several floors in the stairwell.

Just as I turned the corner, I saw at the end of the corridor ahead, a dozen or so pairs of eyes gleaming with a dim yellow light in the emergency red light.

He immediately lowered his center of gravity, held his shield horizontally in front of him, and spoke in a deep and steady voice.

"Be careful—these things are not easy to deal with."

Before he could finish speaking, Jessica had already rushed past him.

She didn't wait for any tactical instructions; even the lingering echo of Steve's "Be careful" in the corridor hadn't faded away.

She slammed her fists together in front of her chest with a loud bang.

The electric arcs on the boxing gloves exploded from the knuckles at the same instant, crackling blue sparks leaping along the zinc alloy shell.

It enveloped her entire body, from her shoulders to her fingertips, in a layer of flickering, cold light.

The way she charged into the group of enhanced warriors was like a stone thrown into a pond.

Pulling his right fist back and rotating his waist and hips, he aimed his fist directly at the center of the face of the nearest enhanced warrior and slammed it down.

The instant the gauntlet touched that green skin, all the electric arcs found their outlets simultaneously.

The electric current flows from the point of contact into the other person's skull, passes through the cerebral cortex, and travels down the spine, destroying all the nerve signals in the entire body.

Before the soldier could even raise his arm, his body went limp and collapsed as if all his bones had been removed.

He hit the back of his head on the floor tiles with a dull thud, foamed at the mouth, rolled his eyes back, and completely lost consciousness.

Jessica straightened up, put her hands on her hips, turned her head to the side and shouted, "How about that! Pretty impressive, huh!"

"Don't get distracted, pay attention!" Stephen shouted.

Jessica turned her head and saw that the remaining dozen or so enhanced warriors had pounced on her from both sides of the corridor at the same time.

They were much faster than the one she had just knocked down.

Several of them had even jumped onto the ceiling, their limbs upside down against the ceiling frame, crawling quickly like geckos, circling around to her back from above.

Jessica's boxing gloves were still crackling with electricity, but she had to deal with so many targets rushing at her from different directions at the same time.

The angle of the punch and the gap in the release of the current have begun to reveal weaknesses.

Just then, several extremely slender white shadows brushed past her ears.

With a few whooshing sounds, several clumps of spider silk flew out from behind her and accurately stuck to the face, hands, and knees of the enhanced warrior crawling on the ceiling above her head.

Then their wrists and ankles were crossed and tied together, and firmly fixed to the ceiling frame.

The warriors bound by spider silk struggled desperately, letting out sharp screams.

But spider silk is extremely elastic, and no matter how hard they pull, they can't break it.

It could only writhe helplessly on the ceiling like a turtle that had been flipped over.

Then several more dense clumps of spider silk passed by Jessica's side.

A temporary isolation barrier was formed between her and the group of enhanced warriors charging towards her.

Steve immediately seized the opportunity and shouted behind him.

"Peter, aren't you good at climbing? Climb over the window of the next room, go around to the other room, and just grab the guy giving orders inside!"

"Roger!" Peter said without hesitation, then turned around and kicked open the door to the office next door.

He rushed to the window, pushed open the window frame, and gripped the seam of the glass curtain wall on the exterior wall with his fingers.

He clung to the exterior wall in a posture that defied all common sense of physics, and quickly crawled along the smooth glass surface toward Pierce's office.

His limbs moved alternately on the vertical glass surface, as fast as a hunting dog running on a flat surface.

Head down, feet up, completely unaffected by the direction of gravity.

In the corridor, the spiderweb-like barrier had begun to be torn apart.

Extremely rough bony protrusions grew on the knuckles of the enhanced warrior.

These protrusions act like saw teeth as they tear the spider silk, snapping the high-strength composite fibers in half one by one.