After the rain stopped, the church doors slowly opened, but the faithful waiting at the entrance looked at each other with doubtful eyes, until a person at the very front let out a shriek. Then, they saw a blood-red liquid, mingling with the rainwater, flowing down the steps.
"There's a body... There's a body!!!"
The police quickly filed in and saw a body hanging from the rafters—a naked female whose muscle definition showed professional training. Her abdomen had been sliced open, filled with all sorts of flowers and herbs, with a piece of deer antler placed on top.
Blood dripped from her feet, then was washed away by the rain. The police looked up, the church's ceiling was a good dozen meters high, and there the body hung, swaying eerily, a macabre sight.
So a rumor began to spread: the Gestapo had simply picked a convenient scapegoat who seemed guilty, but the real church killer had not been caught and was still committing crimes.
When Nick received this news, he also felt puzzled because the medical examination showed that the woman had died at night, exactly when Shiller was here examining Felix.
Could it be that he wasn't the church killer?
It was hard to say. Doctors, especially those who didn't work for the German army, were particularly vulnerable to persecution. Those lunatics, following the principle that if they couldn't have something, they wouldn't let the Soviets have it either, had persecuted countless skilled workers. Doctors with superior surgical skills were naturally on the list as well.
Moreover, Shiller had given him that string of numbers.
That was the real reason for Nick's wavering because he had indeed followed up on the numbers and found a base, but as of now, he hadn't managed to infiltrate it. However, it was foreseeable that the remaining half year would be enough for him to achieve some results.
Giving away that information was not in Nick's interest since he was ostensibly still intent on completing his mission. As long as he could keep the desired object in his hands, he could continue to use that leverage to get help. No one would pass up such a good opportunity to exploit them, yet Shiller had given the numbers to him.
This made Nick increasingly unable to see through him.
In Erik's home, Shiller set down the newspaper he was holding, but his gaze lingered with a sense of incompleteness on the image of a corpse, then looked to Erik and said, "You have a particular talent in this area, have you really not considered becoming an assassin?"
"Stop talking nonsense." Erik was trying to put Anya to sleep, saying, "It took me all night to finish the job, I was covered in blood and so tired I wanted to sleep for a day and a night. Even if you wanted to create an alibi, there's no need for such trouble, are you really not just messing with me?"
"You know I'm not, and you enjoy it too." Shiller said with a laugh, "Judging sinners in the church, presuming yourself above God, mocking his inability to distinguish right from wrong—how does that feel?"
Erik pursed his lips tightly, but it seemed more like he was trying not to smile. After a long moment, he still exhaled and said, "It feels very good."
"We all do." Shiller said, "Once we realize through others' brutality that there is no god in this world that upholds the principle of getting what one deserves, we suddenly feel a great freedom. What we need to do now is to use every effort to actualize this freedom—it's what we deserve."
"I still maintain that it's bothersome," said Erik. "I'm not interested in playing with corpses."
"I know, I know you're a man of efficiency, but it's also not bad," Shiller said. "It matches your abilities, and perhaps you could come to appreciate another form of art through this carnage."
"I had thought I was completely detached from art."
"Of course not, when fate leads us in this direction, art is bound to emerge because you need various forms to interpret your freedom. Such forms are sure to become art, for it represents the purest expression of our nature, even surpassing all forms of art in the world."
"You sound like you've had too much to drink." That's all Erik said, but Shiller muttered under his breath, "A German with no sense of romance."
"A German with no sense of romance!" Charles bit his teeth and cursed, struggling to maintain the friendly facade on his face as he glared at Erik, saying, "Why can't you see my efforts? If it weren't for me letting those ants dare to stand up and bite the lion, on what basis would you have let the lion rage?"
"I have never denied your efforts," Erik said. "I'm just pointing out that so far, we might not have the luxury to continue the act. With all the time spent playing victims, we might as well plant more on half an acre of land."
Charles stared at him sullenly, then seemed to think of something and said, "You sound like that blue-eyed guy."
"Which one?"
"The one who went to Mexico with you."
"You're only focused on the fact he has blue eyes?"
Charles took a deep breath, trying to lower his blood pressure, and then said, "I mean the guy who rambles on about farming all the time, a Superman who seems insane."
"And you? A mad professor?"
Deciding not to argue further with Erik, Charles instead asked directly, "So what do you plan to do?"
"Of course, to spend the time we have on Earth acting the victim on outside conquest. I think we should start with the Centaurus constellation, to subjugate the two civilizations there; the Guardians of the Galaxy have already sent the intelligence to me."
"Invasion? Conquest?"
"Yes, we're severely short on food right now. Their food might not taste good, but it's enough to fill our stomachs. If we defeat them, then make them a vassal state, they can provide us with tribute in the form of food. Plus, we can use their planets for farming, which is much better than the two planets we found in the Andromeda Galaxy."
"Are you insane? You want to become interstellar terrorists?"
"Then you must be the crazy Professor, and I'm the insane terrorist. That works out just fine."
"Stop talking nonsense!"
"What did you say? You suspect there's a missile silo in that base???" Nick's eyes widened as he spoke into the phone, "Are you sure? Don't tell me there's also a nuclear bomb ready there?!"
Incredulously, he stood by the phone for a moment before slamming it down and bellowing, "Jonathan! Get the fuck on the line, I need to contact Washington Headquarters!!!"
"Damn it, these lunatics really dare to launch a nuke!!" Though Nick still found it hard to believe, he was about to curse when he remembered Felix, who had just finished surgery upstairs, was resting.
Jones rushed in, asking frantically, "What happened?"
Nick looked bewildered and almost at a loss for words. He said, "Remember the base we located through coordinates before? Our people arranged there reported that a strange burst of radio waves is being transmitted there every day at three in the afternoon, which we suspect might be missile launch rehearsals."
"They actually have missiles?!"
"Not just that, it seems they really plan to engage in a nuclear war as a final showdown, a bunch of maniacs!"
Jones seemed to remember something and grabbed Nick, saying, "Little Mustache might truly not do such a thing, but what about Hydra?"
Nick froze, then had an epiphany and smacked his forehead, saying, "How could I forget, Little Mustache just wants to conquer the world, Hydra wants to annihilate the human race!"
"We can't delay any longer." Nick shook his head and strode toward the doorway, saying, "We need some powerful allies; agents probably can't handle this on their own."
"What do you mean..."
"We need to find Captain America; only he can stop Red Skull now."
A flock of crows flew by. The dilapidated church walls shed new patches of plaster, and as shoes stepped on the weed-laden floor tiles they made somewhat muffled noises. After a night of cold rain, the rate at which blood saturated the soil slowed, often forming small blood-red puddles in the corners of the stone tiles.
Shiller, dragging the bound and unconscious Baron von Strucker who had lost too much blood, arrived at the entrance of the cellar. After peering down and seeing little standing water, he threw him in.
The other two Hydras waited by the car. Seeing Shiller return, they showed no surprise but instead asked, "What do we do next, Doctor?"
"We wait, of course." Shiller slowly opened the car door and sat inside as he said, "Our current strength is not enough to directly crush Red Skull, not to mention Hitler stands behind him, so we must wait."
"But we really don't want to die." The Hydra driving the car said, "They want to launch a nuclear bomb to destroy the world; the Soviets won't leave us alone. If we toss one at Moscow, they'll certainly throw one back at Berlin, and I really don't want to be roasted alive!"
"I understand." Shiller said slowly, "Neither do I, which is why I am here, aren't I? In the next few days, I'll gradually take over Baron Zemo's work. Your job is to help me win the trust of other Hydra factions."
"Don't worry, boss," another Hydra replied, "You've always been Baron Zemo's best American friend. Now that he's in trouble, no one will object to you taking his place. Besides, nobody wants to die. As long as you can save us, you are our boss."
The driver chimed in as well, "Exactly, American Hydra is still Hydra, right? Moreover, your rank over there is even higher than the Baron's, so taking over his subordinates is only natural. Just prevent the nuclear launch, however possible—we really don't want to die!"
The car came to a slow stop along a street. After getting out, Shiller said, "Go back and give your colleagues a heads-up, so nobody acts too surprised when the time comes. As for dealing with Red Skull, someone will take care of him."
Shiller walked through the alleyways, bought some food, and turned towards Erik's home. After getting back, Erik had just switched off the radio, and the clock hanging on the wall pointed to three in the afternoon.
"Have you finished?" Shiller lifted the food he had bought and said, "I got some bread and sausages, though I might have to come once more later."
"Why? Isn't this about sending signals to simulate missile launch drills? The most important part of these drills is regularity, who adds a session all of a sudden?"
Shiller chuckled and replied, "You understand this, and so does Nick. So, once the pattern breaks, guess how panicky he'll get?"
"You're in such a hurry to make him call for help, why?"
"Because the more, the merrier, of course." Shiller put the bread on the chopping board and said while cutting, "There's still one big star who hasn't made his appearance."