Chapter 25: Do You Want to Be My Follower?
Late at night.
Bucky's eyes flickered briefly before he completed the system's one-hour sleep mode, fully recovering his energy and physical condition. He glanced at little Skye, who had fallen asleep sweetly after listening to his story, then quietly left the house, went downstairs, and got into the car.
Starting the car, Bucky synchronized the audio with the police radio embedded in his prosthetic ear. He was about to put the car in gear and step on the accelerator when he suddenly heard a rush of footsteps.
A slender figure wearing home clothes, holding an extra set of clothing with messy hair, came trotting over. The figure quickly opened the car door and got in.
"Sir, it's so late. Is there something else you need to do?" Maria Hill asked, her breath slightly ragged, the scent of apple shower gel still lingering around her.
Bucky thought to himself, If you're not angry, I certainly am. How am I supposed to respond to that?
Low EQ: It's late, why don't you go to bed and wait for sudden death?
High EQ: Always be vigilant; Agent Hill, you're truly dedicated.
He settled on a middle ground. "Didn't you come here? You might as well help me keep an eye on things while I head out for a bit."
Hill rolled her eyes, "Where exactly are you going in your combat uniform?"
It was clear to her that Bucky had some secretive mission in mind. "Sir, my duty is to ensure your safety. I need to stay within range to act quickly if necessary."
Bucky smirked. What do I need you for? When I'm working, are you going to help babysit? But he refrained from saying that out loud. After all, Hill was the future Commander Hill, a trustworthy person when Hydra was still lurking within S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Alright, then sit tight and buckle up."
Instead of stepping on the accelerator, Bucky got out of the car and closed the door. Hill, unsure whether to treat Bucky as an outsider or not, began to change into her combat uniform right there in the car.
Tsk tsk, those legs... Bucky thought, watching her. Although I'm a gentleman, as Sheldon says, even superheroes are prone to peeking.
"Aren't you cold?"
Seeing Hill now in a thin combat uniform on this cold winter night, Bucky couldn't help but tease.
"I've had the most professional training. I can adapt to any combat requirements," Hill replied, blushing slightly.
"Go change your clothes; I'll wait."
"No need."
"Where's the trust between people? Isn't there any?"
"Still, no need."
Well, if you insist, Bucky thought. He had no problem with the cold either. His enhanced physical strength meant that even sub-zero temperatures in the winter night wouldn't affect him.
"Forget it, let's go."
They drove to a military supply store first, where Bucky bought a warmer outfit for Hill.
"So where exactly are we going?" Hill asked, still hoping Bucky would reveal some top-secret mission.
"To fight evil."
"What?"
"Heroic deeds, street hero stuff, the guardian of the city in the shadows—like Batman or Nightwing."
Thank goodness there's DC Comics in this world, Bucky mused. Even though Marvel has its dark moments, it's not as grim as Gotham. No Flashpoint reboots here.
"Sir, are you serious?" Hill couldn't believe her ears. She was ready for something big, and this was it?
"Never been more serious in my life. Why, do you want to be my sidekick? We could call you Winter Girl."
Hill felt like Bucky was mocking her, and she realized she had never rolled her eyes as much as tonight. She was conflicted. As a law enforcer, it felt wrong to become a vigilante outside the law.
Regardless of her internal struggle, Bucky drove the car to a neighborhood in Brooklyn. Last night, he had stumbled across a drug deal in a dark alley and followed the dealer back to this area, where an African-American gang was headquartered.
But he didn't drive into the block. The streets were full of people—gang members, the unemployed, the homeless. On cold winter nights, groups huddled around lit gasoline drums for warmth and drink.
Bucky knew that if he drove in, his car might be stolen or someone might come after him with a gun within minutes. And he didn't want to be seen.
"Sir... where are they?" Hill, now dressed in her combat uniform and masked, followed Bucky out of the car, her confusion growing as he seemed to disappear into the shadows.
Is this guy trying to steal something?
But Bucky wasn't heading to an empty house. He went to the largest house nearby, a two-story single-family home with lights on and rap music blaring from inside.
"Eleven people and one dog," Bucky noted after scanning the area with his prosthetic eye. "I'll take care of the dog, and you disable the fuse box."
"Where are we, and what are you planning to do?" Hill grabbed Bucky's arm, her tone serious.
Bucky sighed internally. She's too smart to be brushed off with a simple 'You'll find out soon.'
"Although this is a local gang, they're involved in something bigger—a CIA operation smuggling drugs into the country. I'm here to take down their operation and interrogate their boss."
It was a quick cover, but it worked. Hill's breathing quickened. We're really doing something big!
"No problem, leave it to me. What's the next step?"
"Keep watch and let me know if anything happens."
Hill eyed Bucky's empty hands, asking, "But you said there are a lot of them, and they're probably armed."
"Just act."
With that, Bucky disappeared again, leaving Hill to begrudgingly follow his lead.
She watched as the guard dog in the yard suddenly stood up, only to collapse silently, taken down by a single, well-placed arc of electricity.
What just happened? Hill wondered, increasingly feeling something was off.
Chapter 26: Is There Still Justice?
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The quiet of the winter night was shattered by a series of gunshots.
Maria Hill flicked the switch and watched as Bucky crashed through the glass window into the suddenly darkened room.
A flurry of gunshots, shouts, screams, and familiar sounds followed—fists striking flesh, bones cracking.
She couldn't help but feel anxious.
But she dared not plunge into the pitch-black interior of the house.
Something about this situation was perplexing. Why did Johnny, unarmed and without night vision goggles, insist on her pulling the switch and barging in? How could he be so reckless? It was practically a death sentence.
Yet, the gunfire, the bullets tearing through the wooden walls, and the intermittent flashes of light from the windows all indicated that Bucky was unharmed.
Of course, Bucky was fine.
With his target positioning and low-light vision, he stormed in as if the place was deserted.
And with subdermal armor, he was virtually bulletproof, which meant he no longer had any psychological restraints.
Unless the enemy had an anti-material sniper rifle or a grenade launcher, there was nothing to fear, even if a bullet hit him.
It was over!
Bucky, fully immersed in the Winter Soldier's brutal and ferocious combat style, was relentless.
Facing his enemies, he was the embodiment of courage and ferocity!
Like a lion among lambs, he charged through, his opponents' fear and screams echoing as he struck them down one by one!
Screams? Yes, like a little girl watching a horror movie.
Even a muscular man, standing at 6 feet tall, proved unexpectedly cowardly. Although the others were terrified, at least they managed to fire a shot or two when they saw Bucky's figure charging in.
But this guy, like a child seeing Freddy Krueger, screamed, cowered, and covered his head.
Yet, because of this, he was spared—for the moment.
PIA! PIA! PIA!
"Stop! Stop hitting! Boss, stop hitting!"
But it might have been better to be knocked out with a punch. Instead, Bucky grabbed him by the neck with his left hand.
The pain was excruciating, but the humiliation was worse.
The big muscular man broke down, begging for mercy in a tearful voice.
Bucky paused, switched on his flashlight, and shone it around the room, letting the man see his masked and goggled face. He then lowered his voice and coldly asked, "Who's your boss?"
"What?"
The muscular man was taken aback.
PIA! PIA! PIA!
"I said, who is your boss?"
"Him! It's him!"
The man actually started to cry. He thought it was an enemy attack, but it turned out to be some lunatic?
You don't even know who we are, and you come in here like this? Is there any justice?
At that moment, the man genuinely wanted to call the police, reporting that a lunatic had broken in and inflicted unspeakable physical and psychological harm on him.
PIA!
Bucky slapped him one last time, knocking him out.
"Let's go in and take a look!"
Outside, with the wind blowing, Hill hesitated, unaware that the gunfire had stopped a while ago.
But just as she was about to draw her gun and charge in, she saw a shadowy figure leaping out of the second-floor window.
Bucky had a young man slung over his shoulder and a small backpack in hand as he landed silently.
"Let's go."
"You're..."
So, he's a thief now? No, more like a kidnapper. Did this guy forget she was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?
"Let's move."
Gunshots had already drawn attention, with lights coming on in surrounding houses.
But in the darkness, Bucky moved silently, carrying the young man as he quietly made his escape.
He shoved the man and the bag into the car's trunk and drove off.
He even stopped at a public phone booth to call the police himself since the area was gang-controlled, and no one else would.
Near the Brooklyn Bridge, by the river fence.
"Wake up, Johnny!"
Bucky roused the tied-up man, not with a gentle nudge, but with a firm slap.
He didn't initially plan to take the young man with him—he just wanted to leave after the fight.
But as he deceived Hill earlier, an idea struck Bucky.
Whoever was buying this "washing powder" must have a supplier, and since this was a small street gang, they likely didn't source it themselves. They had to be connected to a larger gang.
Instead of stopping here and chasing down petty criminals, why not go after something bigger?
"You... How dare you do this to me? Do you even know who I am?!" the man screamed in pain and fury.
"Hitler's brother-in-law? Stalin's second cousin?"
"What?"
"I'm asking if you're lying!"
PIA! PIA! PIA!
As Bucky's unconventional interrogation continued, Hill couldn't help but notice she'd heard more slaps than gunshots tonight.
"Stop! I'll talk! Please, just stop!"
"Talk!"
"I... Damn it, what do you want to know? Ah! Please, no more!"
Bucky ignored the man's swearing, aware that this was typical—other races could call it discrimination when insulted, but they filled their own speech with vulgarities, even referring to each other as "Mother f*cker."
But Bucky just wanted to smack him.
He didn't ask any specific questions, just wore an expression of "I'm messing with you for fun," driving the man to his breaking point.
"I'm with Boss Kevin on 18th Street!"
So when Bucky finally asked about his gang, the man blurted it out with a mix of grief and anger.
—That's it? That's all you wanted to know? You could've just asked around on the street!
"Doesn't sound promising. Who's your boss, really? Tell me about him."
18th Street wasn't just a random name—it was the home turf of Boss Kevin, who led one of the largest laundry detergent distribution networks in Brooklyn. In African-American neighborhoods, they controlled the trade, while smaller gangs like this one handled distribution outside their territory.
"Good, thanks for cooperating. Now, I need you to do one last thing for me."
"What? Just tell me, I'll do it!"
"Simple. Please, die."
With that, Bucky suddenly pushed the bound man into the river.
"Hey!"
Hill shouted in shock, then fury. Did this bastard just execute someone in front of her, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? Where's the justice?
------
Chapter 27: Conflict
"Morning..."
Bucky had just watched the nanny escort little Skye to school, disappearing around the corner of the corridor, when the door of the neighbor's house swung open.
Maria Hill, with disheveled hair and slightly dark circles under her eyes, glared at Bucky angrily.
"Welcome, please come in, make yourself at home."
Bucky observed Hill as she finished glaring at him and walked straight into his house without another word, ignoring his attempt at politeness.
A lot of anger, either from getting up on the wrong side of the bed or something worse.
"Would you like some breakfast? Coffee? Hey, is there something on my face?"
Seeing that Hill didn't speak but just stared at him, Bucky looked helpless.
He had merely scared the guy last night and hadn't really killed him, so why did Hill look so angry, as if the consequences would be serious?
But thinking about it, from Hill's perspective, she believed she was about to do something important, only to be misled into breaking into a residence illegally, intentionally injuring people, robbing, hijacking, intimidating, and unlawfully interrogating...
Even if the victims were all scumbags who deserved their fate, as a defender of the law, a guardian of justice, and a law enforcement officer fighting crime, Hill found herself becoming a lawbreaker. And the one committing these crimes was herself.
Agent Hill returned home in the middle of the night, tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn't reconcile with what had happened.
It wasn't long before she sought out the culprit, determined to talk to Bucky.
But when she saw Bucky behaving as though nothing had happened, ignoring her critical gaze and humming a tune as he made breakfast, her anger boiled up, and she momentarily forgot what she wanted to say.
Bucky, on the other hand, was in a great mood.
The previous night, he completed the daily reward task, defeating more than a dozen enemies who were deemed dangerous by the system.
[System Information: Complete the daily rewards, get 600 experience points, and receive 2 random item boxes (normal);
Open the random item box: get 15 white common components;
Open the random item box: get 5 white common components and 5 green refined components.]
What's more, Bucky had identified a new target, a bigger fish.
"It wasn't right to do that."
After a restless night, Hill finally moved her knife and fork, lured by the aroma of blueberry pancakes and cream.
But as she ate, she couldn't help but repeat her earlier sentiment.
"What's wrong? Did that person not deserve to be punished, or did the world become worse after he was punished?"
"...But that's not the right way or the right means. You're disrupting law and order. You're not a cop, nor a judge. You're also abusing lynching."
"If I were a cop, or a judge, would I have been able to do that? Would that gang have been busted last night?"
"...You're just making excuses; there's always another way."
"Instead of spending time thinking about other ways that might not even work, why not use that time to do what I do and accomplish something practical?"
"So you're saying you're right, and law and order are wrong?"
"Is this your excuse? Law and order are right, but there are places they can't control. I have the ability to control those places, so I do. Whether it's right or wrong is not something I think much about. If you say it's wrong, then it's wrong, but so what? I'll keep doing it."
"But..."
At this point, Hill was still only 20, stubborn and convinced that her sense of justice was the only justice.
"Don't keep smashing your pancakes. Here, have some bacon and eggs. Go catch up on sleep after eating. We've got to go out later."
"You! I'm not a child!"
Seeing Bucky not only coaxing her but also cutting off the argument and continuing to give her orders made Hill blush with anger. She bit into the fried bacon with gritted teeth, imagining it was Bucky she was chewing on.
However, the reality was that Hill had to listen to Bucky, as her mission was to follow him, and she couldn't restrict his actions.
On the streets of Brooklyn, Bucky drove a silver-gray Ford Mustang, not very fast, wandering aimlessly.
Hill sat in the passenger seat, no one speaking. Only the car radio played soft music, creating a stark contrast to the noisy urban environment outside.
Naturally, Hill wouldn't change her opinion just because of Bucky's argument. In fact, she was still seething inside, always looking for an opportunity to argue with him.
Bucky, however, ignored Hill, secure in the knowledge that as long as he didn't feel awkward, it was others who would feel the tension.
"Look over there."
Just when Hill was about to pick a fight, Bucky slowed down and pointed out the window on her side.
Hill, taken aback, looked in the direction he indicated.
In the alley between two residential buildings, she saw two African-American boys, probably sixteen or seventeen years old, dressed in flashy clothes, handing a small plastic bag of "tobacco leaves" to two white boys of similar age.
"Not far from here is a school. I believe they're all students."
Hill fell silent at Bucky's words.
It wasn't that she didn't know or hadn't seen this before, but it had never hit her so close to home.
"Look, there's another one."
About 600 meters away, near a dumpster by a donut shop, an African-American boy was selling a small, thin paper package to two little African-American sisters.
"You see, although what we did yesterday wasn't glorious, there are fewer scenes like this on the streets today. Maybe, because of what we did, some people have avoided getting involved out of curiosity. Maybe someone avoids overdosing and causing a car accident, or hurting innocent people, or maybe..."
"I know what you're trying to say, stop it."
Hill clenched her teeth, suppressing the words she wanted to say. She had rebuttals but, for some reason, she suddenly didn't want to speak.
"Let's keep going then."
Bucky drove Hill further into Brooklyn, within the territory of the largest African-American gang in the area, which he had learned about the previous night.
The closer they got to the core area, the more gang members they saw—some handing out goods to teenage boys, others selling them directly, or standing in groups of three or four, eyeing the women on the street...
They were all hard at work, not idle at all.
As they continued to watch, Hill fell silent again, without Bucky needing to say a word.
"I'm not trying to convince you right away, but I will stick to my approach, and you can't stop me. So, at the very least, I hope you can be less resistant. But if you still can't get over it, then I can have a word with Howard."
"No, but..."
----------------------
Chapter 28: Eavesdropping
Night.
A silver-gray Ford Mustang cruised through the streets of Brooklyn once again.
Inside were Bucky and Maria Hill.
Unlike last time, they weren't wearing their black combat uniforms. Instead, both were dressed in fashionable casual clothes, blending in as a couple on a night out, looking for a place to hang out. Arm in arm, they strolled into a nightclub. With Bucky's rugged charm and Hill's striking beauty, they made an eye-catching pair.
As they entered the nightclub, the loud, pulsating music and flashing colorful lights made it difficult to distinguish one person from another unless you were in close proximity.
After spending some time on the dance floor, they ordered two drinks and settled into a relatively secluded booth.
Hill's face was slightly flushed from dancing, and her usual stern expression was softened by a hint of allure.
But Bucky wasn't focused on her; his attention was locked on a special passage nearby, guarded by two large, muscular bouncers.
A moment ago, a tall, thin man with a goatee, dressed in trendy clothes, yet with a rustic demeanor, passed through that passage. He was accompanied by a short, stout man with a thick beard, and a sharply dressed, handsome white man. They bypassed the muscular guards with ease and entered the passage.
"Work with me on this. I need a distraction," Bucky whispered in Hill's ear, his tone light as if he were flirting.
Hill smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Remember our agreement."
"I know. No drastic measures. No killing, no chaos, no collateral damage, and no harm to innocents," Bucky recited.
"As long as you stick to that, I'll fully cooperate."
"Of course." Bucky downed his vodka and signaled Hill before disappearing into the crowd like a ghost.
Hill sighed as she sat back, feeling the heat rising within her rather than cooling off. Watching Bucky vanish into thin air was always unnerving, no matter how many times she saw it.
If only she had that stealth skill herself, she mused. Secret missions would be a breeze... Though she'd prefer being the one in charge rather than the assistant. How could this guy ever compare to James Bond? Being a super-agent's sidekick was frustrating to think about.
Fortunately, Bucky reappeared soon after, positioning himself near the two muscular bouncers with his back to them.
Hill reached into her bag and pulled out a lighter. She lit her vodka glass, poured a bit on the foot of a nearby chair, then swiftly covered the glass, extinguishing the blue flame.
"Hey, watch out! There's a fire!" Hill yelled, leaping back dramatically.
"Oh no! Fire!"
"Get the extinguisher!"
The chair caught fire, causing a brief commotion. But the staff quickly put it out with a fire extinguisher.
The crowd soon settled down, eager to return to their night of fun, unaware that during the distraction, the electronic lock on the guarded door had been silently deactivated. Bucky, moving with the grace of a cat, slipped past the guards and through the door, which locked behind him with a soft beep.
Inside, the thumping music and chaotic noise from outside were muted. Bucky moved swiftly, hugging the walls as he approached the group he had been tracking. They were just ahead, but a security camera blocked his path.
Bucky used his cybernetic eye to locate the camera, hacked into it, and then dodged into a nearby storage room, monitoring the target through the hacked feed.
He saw the stout, bearded men he'd noticed earlier standing outside a door, reinforcing the sense of secrecy. The tall, thin, sharply dressed white man they were with must have some significant importance.
Who could he be?
Bucky was tempted to move closer, but this time he had no one to distract the guards for him.
And this wasn't a stealth game where he could slip by without being noticed.
However, Bucky's cyberpunk system was as reliable as ever. By linking the camera to his prosthetic eye, he could control it remotely, scanning the targets and locking onto the electronic devices they carried.
Both men had mobile phones.
Unbeknownst to Kevin, who was chatting with the white man, his phone's screen lit up and
Bucky tapped into its microphone.
"My brother Billy, business has been booming lately. I need more supplies."
The voice of the white man, Billy, was heard through Bucky's prosthetic ear.
So, the white man's name was Billy.
"Our products are in high demand. Everyone wants more, but good things never come cheap, and they're the hardest to find, so Kevin, you know how it is."
"Brother Billy, you haven't even delivered the amount we agreed on. I just want you to honor our deal."
Kevin's voice grew stern as Billy's excuses piled up.
"It was just a verbal agreement. Besides, we never agreed on a fixed amount; we said circumstances could change. I'm here to tell you that they have."
"Billy, if you do this, I'll be very disappointed and unhappy. You say your goods are in short supply? But believe me, soon enough, your products will be unsellable in Brooklyn. No one will dare to touch them without my approval."
"Really? Are you sure you can make that happen? Just like that? Or maybe, without you in the picture..."
"Damn it, you're threatening me!?"
"Not at all. I'm simply asking how I can keep you quiet."
The two men continued to exchange heated words, but Bucky could tell it was just posturing. They both needed each other—Billy had the goods, and Kevin controlled the market. Neither wanted to sever ties just yet.
But Billy's tone... Bucky had a gut feeling this Billy wasn't someone to mess with. He seemed like a cold-blooded operator.
Bucky's interest in Billy grew. Kevin was a pushover; without him, someone else would take his place. But Billy, who controlled the supply chain, was the real deal.
So, Bucky decided to shift his focus from Kevin to Billy.
---------------
Chapter 29: Do You Call This Stalking?
"Hey! What are you doing? Keep your hands off!"
"What?"
"You dare touch my girl, you want to die!"
After the minor disturbance caused by the fire incident in the nightclub, there was another altercation. A woman thought the man behind her was taking advantage of her, and her boyfriend wasn't having it. It turned out the man had his own girl. With a violent thump, a fight broke out.
This naturally attracted the attention of most people, including the handsome white guy Billy, who had just exited the exclusive passage, and the boss's fat-bearded bodyguard following him.
No one noticed that the door to the special passage, which had just closed, was now slightly ajar. Bucky quickly slipped out and, as if nothing had happened, blended into the crowd of spectators, quietly approaching the real culprit standing next to Maria Hill.
"They're gone."
"Where to?"
Hill followed Bucky, curiosity piqued.
She was no longer the cool and aloof person she usually was. After all, she was young and somewhat exhilarated after pulling two pranks in a row.
"They've changed locations, that pretty boy."
"Well, he is quite handsome. What's his story?"
"It's unclear yet, but he's the one holding the supply."
The two followed the black Buick SUV, trailing the boy all the way out of the nightclub and onto the road.
"Is he really that handsome? I don't see it. But I'll take your word for it."
As they spoke, Bucky suddenly turned his face to Hill, asking coolly, "And what about me? I'm a little more handsome, don't you think?"
"Oh, someone's got a high opinion of himself."
They bantered all the way, continuing to tail the boy.
"How should I support you if things go south?"
But just as Hill asked, she sighed, realizing the potential danger.
"A fight? I never said we were going to fight. I'm just going to follow him, get some intel."
"Are you serious?"
"What's wrong?"
Bucky, initially puzzled, noticed something in Hill's eyes and realized something might be off.
"Did you not realize that he knows he's being followed? He's circling around, not to lose us but to buy time, gather his men, and set up an ambush."
"...Then I guess that's what I think too...?"
Bucky wasn't sure if Hill was testing him or being serious. But when Hill covered her face, Bucky suddenly realized he'd been careless.
While he inherited all the combat skills of the original Winter Soldier, he didn't inherit all the combat experience. Many memories were fragmented or lost, and he hadn't had much real combat to digest and absorb. Fighting a few local thugs or convenience store robbers was child's play compared to the Winter Soldier's experience.
Another point was that Bucky's missions usually involved leaving no survivors or witnesses. Even though the original Winter Soldier was skilled in covert tracking, it wasn't necessary since no one was left alive to tell the tale. Whether the target noticed or not made no difference—the result was always the same.
So Bucky followed the Winter Soldier's habit, thinking it was perfect. But if Hill hadn't pointed it out...
Did it make a difference?
Bucky thought again, what if they knew? The Winter Soldier wasn't afraid, so why should the enhanced version be?
It was a reckless thought. Since the other party chose to confront him, let's fight.
However, Bucky's "pretentious" response made Hill cover her face again.
Just when she thought Bucky was reliable, he'd pull something like this.
"There's a gun in the storage compartment. Take it for self-defense. If it comes to a fight, stay in the car and support me from behind."
"Are you really expecting a fight? It's not too late to back off."
Although Hill said this, she knew Bucky's temperament. While talking, she opened the storage compartment, took out the Makarov pistol, checked the magazine, loaded it, and put two extra magazines in her boot.
Despite trying to dissuade Bucky, Hill was somewhat excited with the gun in her hand.
"You said they spotted us, so if we back off now, they'll just track us down later."
"What about you? Where's your weapon?"
"Isn't there an agreement? No killing unless absolutely necessary."
"This isn't a joke; do you really think you're Batman?"
"Actually, I can do better."
"I can't argue with you, so I'll just follow your lead."
Hill covered her face again, hoping Bucky was as capable as he seemed and that the other party wasn't a vicious gang. Maybe they'd just send some thugs to deal with her and Bucky.
Bucky truly didn't want to kill anyone. It wasn't about restraint but rather an aversion to it. He was a regular guy with a complicated past, not a battle-hardened veteran with PTSD. Who wanted to face the bloody reality of life and death daily?
Bucky couldn't forget the first person he killed in this world. It wasn't a nightmare, but he vividly remembered every detail of that moment. It was ingrained in his memory.
He had killed twice—once by Hydra and once by Frank Castle's enemies. If he could avoid killing, he would. Bucky's strength, combined with the Winter Soldier's understanding of the human body, meant that leaving someone alive was often a worse punishment than killing them.
So, Bucky kept his eye on the pretty boy ahead. If the guy came at him with a gun, Bucky wouldn't hesitate. But until then, he'd hold back.
The boy in front led Bucky around in circles for more than half an hour. Even Bucky noticed something was off—it was provocation. But the boy finally drove in one direction, heading to a container area in the Brooklyn docks.
"It's a good spot. After killing someone, just mix them with cement, and they sink instantly."
The boy parked his car next to two identical SUVs, which turned on their headlights, forcing Hill to shield her face.
But Bucky just closed his right eye, and his left prosthetic eye adjusted to anti-glare mode.
"Only eight people? Who do they think they're dealing with?"
----------------
Chapter 30: Why So Jealous?
"I don't think we've ever met. Tell me, who are you, and which agency sent you? CIA? FBI? DEA? Who would send a rookie like you?"
The scene unfolds at the dock, in the container area.
Leaving Maria Hill in the car, Bucky stepped out alone, casually approaching the tall, thin, fair-faced boy, Billy.
Behind Billy, two black Buick SUVs opened their doors, and heavily armed personnel aimed their assault rifles at Bucky.
Yet, as Bucky approached, seemingly unaware of the danger he was in, the situation felt like an overreaction.
"McGee, keep an eye on the surroundings," Billy said into his walkie-talkie. Then, he drew his pistol, but instead of raising it, he kept it at his waist, his voice growing colder as he spoke to Bucky: "Let's get this over with. I have limited time and even more limited patience."
"Would you believe me if I said I've taken a liking to you and want to invite you to dinner?" Bucky replied with a nonchalant smile. His handsome face and carefree attitude might have caused quite a stir if any onlookers were present.
However, Billy wasn't amused. His pale face flushed with anger, his expression quickly twisting into one of disgust as he retorted, "You think this is a joke? You're really testing my patience."
"Hey, let's talk about this. We could watch a movie instead if dinner's too much," Bucky quipped, though his laid-back tone only served to aggravate Billy further.
Boom!
Without hesitation, Billy pulled the trigger. Fortunately for Bucky, Billy wasn't aiming to kill—he aimed at Bucky's thigh instead.
Thud.
However, it wasn't Bucky who fell to the ground. Instead, Billy, now enveloped in electric arcs, crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.
In a blur, Bucky vanished from where he stood!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
As Bucky darted forward, he snatched Billy's pistol and, while sprinting, fired three precise shots, hitting the shoulders of three of Billy's men.
Before their screams could even escape, Bucky was already at the door of one of the SUVs.
His prosthetic arm, now stronger than the original, slammed the car door shut with enough force to knock out the person behind it.
Boom!
Bucky fired another shot, hitting another shoulder!
With his left hand on the roof of the car, Bucky pushed off, flying over the top and delivering a powerful kick to a man on the other side!
Another kick, another shot—Bucky made short work of Billy's men. Hill, who had just opened her car door after hearing the gunfire, was left stunned. The fight was over before she could even react!
Hill, using the car door for cover, peeked out to see Bucky standing alone, his opponents lying unconscious around him. She was baffled—what just happened? How did he take them all down so quickly?
Bucky wasn't done yet. As he finished off the last man, he noticed a container not far away, where a flash of electricity caught his eye.
It was McGee, the sniper who had been observing the situation. Like everyone else, he was also locked on by Bucky's prosthetic eye's [target positioning] system. Bucky took him out with a single shot.
With one swift move, he kicked at those who had been shot in the shoulders, ensuring they were all knocked out.
"That's it? How did you do that? Johnny, who are you?" Hill exclaimed, beckoning to Bucky as she looked over the fallen men, struggling to comprehend the situation.
Even the most powerful S.H.I.E.L.D. special forces couldn't have pulled off such a feat. How had he done it?
"I'll explain later," Bucky replied nonchalantly, feeling no need to hide his identity as the Winter Soldier from the future Commander Hill. "But first, let's clean up this mess. You need to call S.H.I.E.L.D. and have them deal with this. Also, check the origins of this group; they don't look like good people."
Hill nodded, feeling a bit relieved. This wasn't just a random gang—they were illegal militants operating without a license in the USA.
"What are you again?" she asked, confused as she pulled out her mobile phone issued by S.H.I.E.L.D., but her attention was drawn to Bucky, who was lifting the unconscious Billy over his shoulder.
"Of course, I need to interrogate him first. But I want to know, did he shoot at me because he's jealous of my looks? It's pure hatred, really!"
Once again, Bucky's behavior left Hill perplexed. Every time she thought he was being serious, he threw her a curveball.
But she was genuinely curious—when had someone like him arrived in New York and dared to bring so many armed thugs, especially when S.H.I.E.L.D. was disbanded?
"By the way, this guy is important. Shouldn't we find a safer place? Maybe a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house?" Hill suggested.
"Hmph..."
Suddenly, Billy woke up, feeling cold water splashed on his face.
"Hi~."
He groaned in pain, his body screaming from the aches and the splitting headache. As his eyes slowly focused, he saw the face of the man he loathed.
"Look at you. Why are you so upset? Just admit it: I'm more handsome than you. It'll make you feel better."
"Pooh!"
------------
Chapter 31: Pretty Boy Billy
"Tell me, Billy, what's your full name? What do you do?"
Billy pointed the gun at Bucky before.
At this time, their roles were reversed; Bucky was still standing upright as before, but Billy was tied to the chair with thick hemp ropes.
"You don't know who I am?"
Billy was angry, vigilant, and suspicious earlier, but after hearing Bucky's question, his expression instantly turned to one of bewilderment.
You bastard, you don't even know who I am, and yet you followed me all the way, even fought with each other, and finally kidnapped me here? Are you mentally ill?
Yes, I used to be No. 17 cyberpsychopath in Night City... After understanding the look in Billy's eyes, Bucky silently complained to himself.
"Long nights, sleepless nights, let's talk. Billy, what's your full name?"
"No comment. Why are you bothering me? Where did I mess with you?"
"It seems that if I don't give you some trouble, you won't realize the seriousness of the problem."
"Bah! Go ahead!"
In the face of Bucky's intimidation, Billy's performance showed disdain—he didn't even have a decent torture device. Who would be scared by bare hands?
Bucky just stared; you are underestimating people. If I don't really show you something, you won't understand why cyberpunk exists!
With a sullen face, he carried the chair over, but instead of preparing to fight, he sat down, resting his hands on the back of the chair as if he had changed his face and switched to a smile again:
"Just kidding, how could I bear to hit such a pretty face?"
Billy was taken aback for a moment and subconsciously wanted to say, "Bah! Disgusting!"
But he saw that the other party pulled out a field knife from his waist, twirled the blade a few times with his dexterous fingers, pinched the handle of the knife, and the cold blade pressed against his carefully maintained face.
"Why don't I help you peel off your whole face and keep it well? When I hit you again, it won't hurt you. How about this? Don't worry, my hand is steady and the knife is fast. When the time comes, your face will still be just as beautiful."
"You!"
As the blade of the field knife scraped against Billy's face like a razor, his expression of disdain, contempt, and disgust suddenly turned to terror, and his head jerked back desperately.
"Don't stop!"
"Well, don't stop, I get it."
Bucky was still smiling, but it transformed into a devilish grin in Billy's eyes, and the movements of his hands suddenly accelerated!
Swish, swish!
Billy saw the black light flickering in front of his eyes; his face turned cold repeatedly, and his mental state collapsed in an instant!
"Stop! Stop it! Bastard! Don't touch my face!"
But Bucky ignored him and focused on shaving his beard until the stubble on his face was cleanly shaved. Then he nodded in satisfaction.
Meanwhile, Billy was like a little fresh meat toyed with by a group of bullies.
"Bastard! I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill you!"
"...I can't believe you're actually crying!?"
Bucky really didn't expect that just scaring this guy would have such a good effect.
"Hey, I heard that some people who haven't truly realized their own orientation subconsciously reject or even discriminate against it. Weren't you angry out of embarrassment before?"
Seeing Billy act like this gave Bucky goosebumps, and the "Yah, disgusting" emoji returned in full.
"Kill me if you have the ability! Kill me directly!"
"Now that you know you care so much about your face, you won't naively think I'll let you off so easily, right? You'd better accept reality quickly and behave."
Billy yelled and cursed for a while, but after venting enough, he stared at Bucky with unmatched resentment and asked viciously, "What do you want to know?"
" cough!"
It wasn't that Bucky cleared his throat and wanted to ask a question; rather, there was a light cough coming from behind him.
"Hold on."
Bucky gestured to wait a moment, and just as Billy let out a breath, he suddenly felt severe pain throughout his body. The electric arc flashed across him, and he passed out, foaming and twitching.
"Is there a result?"
It was Maria Hill who coughed lightly. She had already removed her makeup and put on the uniform of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, holding a fax in her hand.
"Well, this man's name is Billy Russo. He used to be a sergeant major in the Marine Corps. After leaving the army, he opened a security company called Anvil. A gray or black operation... By the way, Phil told you, this guy used to be Frank Castle's comrade-in-arms?"
It turned out, um, it really was him.
As soon as Bucky heard Billy Russo, he immediately reacted. No wonder this guy cares so much about his face. Isn't this the "Billy Flower Boy" from the American TV series "Punisher," which he watched a few episodes of before his time travel?
Frank Castle's former comrade-in-arms, due to an operation under the command of the CIA, something went wrong that caused Frank to retire from the army. Bucky didn't know the specific reason and didn't watch the drama carefully.
But he knew that Billy had a lot to do with that incident. He seemed to be Frank's friend, but in the end, he was revealed as the villain boss, and Frank treated him poorly. In the end, Frank used broken glass to scar his face.
What a coincidence that this guy fell into his hands like this?
"Then why did Billy come to New York with so many gunmen?"
"It's not very clear; I only know that he came here more than half a year ago and quickly occupied half of the laundry detergent market in New York. His security company is simply a cover, keeping a large number of gunmen just to protect his real business. What about you? Did you ask anything?"
"Well, he cares a lot about his pretty face, and he will explode if he scratches his skin."
What kind of news is this... Uh, it seems to be useful? Hill subconsciously wanted to express her disbelief at Bucky's ignorance, but after thinking about it, she found a weakness to target.
"Then you continue the interrogation?"
But Bucky waved his hand: "No need, let's get ready."
"What to prepare?"
"Prepare for battle. He actually has a locator on his body. Someone should come to rescue him soon."
Hill frowned at this: "Where? I obviously searched."
Bucky shrugged: "Heels, underwear, teeth, under the skin; it's all possible, right?"
Hill was a little angry: "Why didn't you remind me earlier?"
"No need; the locator isn't turned on. How can we see who can be lured out?"
"You want to fish? Then tell me earlier."
"It's too late to say that now. Let's prepare."
...
Five SUVs parked on the road outside a small fruit grove on the outskirts of New Jersey.
One after another, well-armed and well-trained soldiers in combat uniforms and night vision goggles got out of the vehicles.
Seventeen or eighteen soldiers moved silently towards the two-story single-family house next to the fruit grove.
They didn't know that a pair of eyes in the residential house and in the fruit grove had already spotted them first.
It's not that they surrounded the residence; rather, the people inside were quietly preparing to collect the net...
-----------
Chapter 32: This is a Personal Grudge!
"Boss! Boss!"
Feeling a shaking, Billy Russo slowly woke up.
Although he still had a splitting headache, he didn't feel weak like the last time he woke up. He quickly regained consciousness and saw a man in a camouflage combat uniform and a camouflage hood shaking him in front of him.
"Who are you?"
"Sir, we have located you and come to rescue you. There is still fighting outside, so we need to leave quickly."
Only then did Billy notice the constant gunshots outside. He felt his body loosen as the rope binding him was cut open with a combat knife by his rescuer.
"Sir, we have to leave as soon as possible. The other party has already prepared. This is an ambush. Our situation is not very good."
"Damn it, damn it!"
When Billy heard this, he couldn't care less. Even if he lost all his men, he could still hire more. The last thing that the US lacked was a soldier who felt lost and insignificant after returning to the city. As long as he could escape, that was all that mattered.
He followed the man who came to rescue him and left from the back. As they exited, he heard the gunshots more clearly.
"Hey, handsome Billy dude, where are you going?"
Billy hadn't run very far when he heard a voice that made him tremble all over. He then saw a figure that made him want to shatter his body into pieces, moving at an unimaginable speed, breaking through the firepower net and rushing toward him!
"Sir, go! I'll stop him for you!"
"Got it!"
Billy didn't act like a "good brother, live together and die together, share blessings and share hardships" as he had when recruiting soldiers; he ran in another direction without hesitation!
"Run into the woods, through the woods! There's our car! . . . Ah!"
Hearing the shouts of his loyal men, Billy couldn't help turning his head and saw that one of his men had been shot in the left arm but was still fighting back!
That damn guy had also been shot, but he just rolled on the ground and stood up again!
This made his soul tremble, and he used all his strength to run wildly without looking back!
Even when he heard the scream of that nasty guy who seemed to have been shot again, he didn't dare to look back!
Running all the way into the woods, passing through the trees, finding the car, getting in, and stepping on the gas, Billy didn't dare to breathe a sigh of relief.
Had they really escaped?
Billy, who was driving the car, still couldn't believe that all this was true...
Boom!
Suddenly, there was a shock, and Billy shuddered in fright. From the rearview mirror, he saw a black SUV chasing after him!
Boom!
The car accelerated and hit Billy's car again. The two vehicles were now parallel, and Billy saw that hideous face with a flashing smile!
"Fuck you!"
Billy was furious, his anger bubbling over. He turned the steering wheel hard, and the car swerved!
Boom!
Another violent impact, but this time, the speed of the opponent's car slowed down!
From the rearview mirror, Billy saw the damn guy's car with smoke rising from the front hood, the engine exploding and breaking down!
"Fuck you! You deserve it! Go eat shit, idiot!"
Billy turned his head and viciously gestured with his middle finger. The resentment that had accumulated all night finally dissipated.
But he didn't know that in the broken-down car, Bucky opened the door and got out, watching the taillights of the car with a slight smile.
At that moment, above Bucky's head, a helicopter roared past, following Billy's car in the sky. Not long after, a masked man in combat uniform drove Bucky's silver-gray Mustang and chased after him. The two exchanged places, and Bucky drove away.
On the other side of the residence, not long after Bucky left, the two sides in the exchange of fire ceased their ostentatious mutual shooting.
The man who had saved Billy, now lying in a pool of blood, got up as if nothing had happened. He took off his hood, revealing a sympathetic hairline, then commanded the people at the scene to lift the unconscious individuals one by one from the dwelling, throwing them into the car and driving away.
On Coney Island, the southernmost tip of Brooklyn, at the Pier.
Billy parked the car and boarded a moored yacht with ease.
The fully armed security personnel on the yacht turned a blind eye to him, and he went straight to the open-air platform at the rear with a straight face, sitting down on the leather sofa in front of the coffee table.
Sitting on the opposite sofa was a middle-aged white man with a fat head and dark eyes. He was dressed in a tailored high-end suit, a cigar in his left hand and a glass of champagne in his right.
He looked like some future king of secret agents, with a glass eye in his left eye.
"Brother Billy, why did you come back alone? Where are the people who went to rescue you?"
"How do I know? It won't be easy for me to escape, William."
The middle-aged man named William couldn't help but frown upon hearing this:
"Who the hell is troubling us?"
"How do I know! A crazy riding man! Just insane!"
Billy picked up the champagne on the table and drank it vigorously. When he thought of that hideous figure, his chest burned with rage.
"This isn't over. I will gather another group of people and kill them all!"
"Don't be impulsive. We just lost a little manpower, but the goods are fine. Business is important. We must at least..."
"No! I can't let this go!"
William wanted to dissuade him, but Billy viciously interrupted him.
"Billy, this is business."
"No, this is a personal grudge! William, haven't I done enough for the business!? I've called my brothers, opened up markets, worked hard outside—what have I not done!?
I even set up Frank's whole family for you! That's my brother! But I can't just stand by and let you be blind to this!
So stop talking to me about business!
This time, I'm doing this for myself!"
Billy's resentment and grievances erupted wildly, but he spoke with confidence as he declared he would kill his good brother's family.
"...Well, since you insist on this, taking the initiative to find out who the other party is is also an option, but this time the loss must be recorded in your share."
"Whatever you want!...Hmm!?"
Seeing that William had been persuaded, Billy finally breathed a sigh of relief. He was thinking about how to find someone to take revenge, imagining how he would peel off that disgusting face alive and sew it onto the pig's butt!
But at that moment, he heard the sound of splashing into the water!
Then silence fell.
A brief moment of silence.
Then there was a commotion, and he faintly heard the sound of impact and the sound of silenced pistols!
No, someone had invaded!
In Billy's mind, a lingering figure immediately appeared, flashing a smile that sent shivers down his spine!
"Gun, give me a gun!"
Billy trembled like he had been shocked, jumped up suddenly, and lunged toward the guard not far away!
Puff puff!
But at that moment, several gunshots rang out, and blood sprayed from the guard's head!
Only then did William realize he was attempting to draw his weapon in a flustered and clumsy manner.
Puff!
"What!"
Blood burst from his right shoulder, he screamed, and fell to the ground!
"This is~ Johnny! Pretty face, do you miss me?"
However, although Billy shivered subconsciously, he didn't look at Bucky who had suddenly appeared, dripping all over his body.
Instead, he looked to the other side, where another figure was dripping wet.
"Frank..."
--------
Chapter 33: Blood Vengeance and Face Repayment
"Billy, boy, you're fine, very fine."
"You, why are you here?"
On the deck at the stern of the yacht, Frank Castle, who resembled a beast, glared at Billy Russo, who stood blankly with bloodshot eyes. He was a former comrade-in-arms, a good brother who had fought alongside him.
Previously, Frank had received a call from Bucky asking about Billy. He was only surprised, regretful, and a bit suspicious. How could a loyal brother turn into a criminal?
But now, he had to deal with his youngest daughter, who suffered from trauma due to excessive fright, and his son, whose intelligence was permanently damaged due to untimely treatment. His son's IQ would remain around the level of an eight to ten-year-old, and he had to avenge the blood feud involving his wife.
Even if his good brother had gone astray, Frank didn't care much about it.
But Bucky, who had saved his son's life, was the one who asked for his help. Without Bucky, his two children might not have survived. Bucky was the benefactor of his family.
Frank had to repay the favor, but it wasn't merely about repaying a debt. This was a matter involving his former friend in need.
He watched as Bucky orchestrated a scene where Billy attempted to escape and bugged him.
Then, Frank heard a conversation that made his heart stop for a moment and nearly collapsed.
He, Frank, was truly blind! That was why he had considered that greedy bastard his brother!
For CIA agent William Rollins, who had smuggled goods and killed several of their men, Frank wanted to kill his entire family for that damn money!
Good! Very good!
"Why, Billy?" The friendship forged in battle allowed Frank to maintain his last shred of sanity.
"It's Rollins! Rollins forced me!"
Puff puff!
Hearing Billy's excuses, Frank's face turned a deep shade of disgust. He gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, and shot Rollins three times without hesitation!
Rollins fell into a pool of blood, leaving Billy's heart cold.
"Yes, I did it! I did it for money! But what's wrong with that? Frank, I blame you for all of this! If you had cooperated back then, none of the brothers would have died, and we all would have become rich! This is all your fault!"
Faced with Frank's angry stare, Billy's dissatisfaction, grievance, anger, fear, and perhaps a hint of remorse erupted into hysteria.
"That's right, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have been blind to see what kind of trash you are!"
"Then why don't you die!"
Billy roared and charged at Frank in a fit of rage!
"What!!!"
Frank discarded his pistol and charged back like a beast!
The two fought like wolves, engaging in a primal battle!
Bucky let out a silent sigh at Frank's ill-fated struggle, but he didn't intend to help.
This was Frank's personal grievance, his blood feud. He could only avenge it himself—either kill Billy or be killed by him.
In the end, Frank, consumed by fury, defeated Billy, who had been tortured multiple times in one night.
Boom!
The brutal fight between the two ended when Frank grabbed Billy's head with both hands and smashed it down on the glass coffee table, shattering it...
Frank then yanked Billy's hair and rubbed his face against the broken glass, remaining silent.
Billy's handsome face was now bloodied and mutilated, fit for a horror film.
"Kill me... Frank, kill me!"
Billy, spitting blood, pleaded for death. He knew his face was ruined and didn't want to see it anymore—he just wanted to die.
"...No." After slapping Billy's face, Frank drew his field knife and placed it against his neck. But after panting like a wild animal for a moment, he sheathed the knife.
"Kill me! Kill me!"
"That would be too easy for you, Billy. I want you to live, to wake up every day and see your repugnant face, to remember what you were! To live with this torment! Remember, this is all I give you!"
"Do not!!!"
Billy let out a desperate scream, only to be kicked hard by Frank and lose consciousness.
Afterward, Frank seemed to lose his soul. Revenge, blood repayment, life worse than death—none of it could undo the separation he faced, leaving him with endless regret and sorrow.
Bucky walked over and patted Frank on the shoulder, but said nothing.
"Thanks, Johnny."
Frank had come to repay a favor but found himself owing one. He was truly disheartened, unable to cheer up or think clearly.
"Bucky, Bucky Barnes, Johnny is just a pseudonym."
"...Heh, Bucky, that Bucky?...What are you doing?"
Frank was surprised when Bucky used his name, though he was also a bit taken aback. With so many strange things happening, it wouldn't be more bizarre for Bucky to be a former World War II hero.
At that moment, Bucky walked up to Billy and bowed slightly before delivering a punch to his spine below the neck!
An indescribable sound of bone cracking was heard, and Billy, who was in a coma, briefly opened his eyes before passing out with blood flowing from his mouth and nose.
"Oh, I think when he wakes up, he definitely won't want to see his face. He might even contemplate his fate. Like this, he'll lie in bed every day, waking up to see his face in the ceiling mirror."
"..."
Frank looked at Bucky with a serious expression. He wanted to thank him but couldn't find the words.
History doesn't record everything about a person. Who would have guessed that Captain America's friend, a World War II hero, would be such a ruthless individual?
In reality, Bucky just didn't want to leave any troubles behind.
Frank was finished, but Bucky couldn't let a villain who had wronged him so many times—and whose face he cared about being disfigured—survive unscathed. Billy had to suffer mentally, going crazy in his own fantasies.
If Bucky hadn't delivered the final blow, Billy wouldn't have been considered Bucky's defeat. The system didn't grant experience, and he couldn't let a story villain escape.
"Let's go. I never want to see this man again. I've had enough."
Frank looked at his former brother, now his enemy, and his own blood-stained hands. He just wanted to escape the nightmare of reality.
---------------
Chapter 34: Booty
Frank's grievances are understood, but the matter is not over.
He left the yacht, and Bucky didn't either.
Instead, before the people from S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived and there was no interruption, he searched the boss's lair to see if he could find anything useful. He also wanted to find out who Billy's partner, William, was.
Sure enough, in the captain's cabin, a safe was found.
Although it is a mechanical combination lock, it is not difficult for Bucky.
It can't be cracked by hacking, but it doesn't need to be broken, and it's over.
Bucky held the wires of the desk lamp in one hand and touched the safe with the other. In an instant, the safe was enveloped in red and blue neon blocks.
The safe is large and strong, but it is still made of ordinary materials and craftsmanship. The system judges that it is still a common item, and it still cannot escape the fate of being broken down into a pile of tatters.
After taking a breath, the dismantling was completed, and Bucky got a few common item components as the safe turned into tatters as if it had been soaked in seawater for hundreds of years.
With a light tug, Bucky tore off the cabinet door, revealing the undamaged contents inside.
A ledger, a small black velvet bag, stacks of hundred-dollar bills, and a key with a nameplate.
There weren't many banknotes, only a dozen or so. Bucky stuffed them directly into his pocket, opened the small bag, and was immediately captivated by its contents. Inside was a blood-red ruby the size of a cut pigeon egg.
Bucky fiddled with it a few times, then put it in his pocket along with the ledger and keys.
After scanning with his prosthetic eye, there was nothing suspicious. Bucky was about to leave, but when he returned to the deck, he was taken aback for a moment.
He knew that someone would arrive soon, and this operation was with the assistance of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Unexpectedly, it wasn't just S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel who came.
In addition to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents already nearby, three SUVs suddenly appeared without warning. After being intercepted by the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel, all the men in black suits got out of the car, drawing their guns to confront the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.
However, it seemed that there was no real intention to fight. The leader, a white-haired old man, stepped out with an air of authority, wanting to talk to the people from S.H.I.E.L.D.
S.H.I.E.L.D. also dispatched the person in charge of the scene, and both sides stood with their weapons drawn, yet they were talking and laughing amicably in the middle.
Seeing that he couldn't fight, Bucky quietly returned to the boat, found a plastic bag to put the ledger and money in, left the boat, and dove into the water, holding his breath and diving for seven or eight minutes to escape the area.
"Hey, Brother Fury, what is the origin of that group?"
Nick Fury, who cared about his old comrade, was personally responsible for this operation, but as the commander-in-chief, he hadn't shown up until now.
"It's from the CIA. Knowing that Billy's accomplice is William Rawlings, we were not surprised this happened.
He was a senior CIA agent who deliberately framed Frank and his comrades during an operation for his own selfish desires, leading to the sacrifice of many soldiers.
Afterwards, Frank blinded him in one eye, and the CIA began investigating him because of this. He defected and fled, becoming a real laundry detergent dealer. The CIA seems to have been tracking him, but…"
"Just what?"
Bucky heard Fury being a little vague and suddenly recalled many films and games he had watched and played before his transmigration.
"It's not that the pigs have to wait until they are fattened up before being slaughtered?"
"After all, we need to collect enough evidence to bring him to court."
Fury didn't make a clear judgment. This was something that was understood, but everyone's views were also tacit.
"It won't be a problem, will it?"
"Of course not. The CIA has no domestic law enforcement powers, and they won't have any information about this operation."
Fury was very confident about this. Regardless of whether it was domestic or overseas, S.H.I.E.L.D. is the king of agents, and the CIA is at most gold, if not bronze.
"Speaking of this operation, did you find anything of value?"
Fury was more concerned about whether Bucky had found something and taken it away.
"A ledger with detailed records of transactions between William Rollins and several of the largest gangs in Brooklyn, as well as some encrypted information. Send someone to fetch it."
Bucky also directly provided the ledger. It was useless for him to keep this; he wouldn't need such evidence to show those gangsters, so they had nothing to say and felt ashamed.
His steel arm was enough to handle them.
As for the bank key, Bucky was a little curious about what it was for, and since he was on his way to the bank on the nameplate, he had to see what was inside before discussing it further.
"Here are the ledgers. Can you arrange a police raid or joint law enforcement? After all, my family is in Brooklyn, and I hope it's cleaner."
Bucky fought crimes himself to earn experience points, but if he wanted crimes to be dealt with quickly and severely, he still had to rely on law enforcement.
After getting a positive answer from Fury and chatting a few more words about Frank's situation, Bucky hung up the call.
Bank.
"Billy Stone, Safe 1117."
"Please follow me."
Bucky finished looking through the ledger. It was not just a ledger; it was divided into several parts, some of which were his aliases, detailing where he hid those items.
"Please feel free."
The bank staff took Bucky to a small separate room with a locked metal box on the table.
"Hey, the old boy really has a lot of money."
Bucky used the key to open the safe, and inside were several passports and certificates, several stacks of banknotes such as US dollars, British pounds, and Marks. The amount wasn't much—just for emergencies—and a Glock pistol.
These weren't the key points. The key point was a stack of bearer bonds, all belonging to European banks. According to the current exchange rate, they could be worth more than 130 million US dollars.
And that was just one of the places William Rollins hid his money.
Not to mention that he still had a source of supply hitting the entire Brooklyn laundry detergent market.
If Bucky hadn't met him early, maybe he would have dominated Brooklyn's underground world and become one of the supervillains the Punisher would face in the future.
Bucky sighed slightly, collected the bonds and dollars, and left the bank.
Then he handed over the ledger to the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., marking the end of this operation.
But Bucky didn't go home directly. Instead, he drove to the river near the Brooklyn Bridge and found a deserted place to sit for a while.
He wanted to count the gains from this operation first.
Cash plus bearer bonds totaled more than 150 million US dollars. Bucky, who had been an ordinary person in his previous life, was genuinely excited.
But the harvest was more than that.
Chapter 35: Harvest
The gain in money really made Bucky a little excited. It was the spoils that came with completing the mission, and sudden wealth was always enough to set his nerves on edge.
But that wasn't Bucky's biggest takeaway tonight.
The real gains tonight were Billy Russo and William Rollins.
There weren't many rewards for just messing with these two guys. It was nothing more than a daily reward.
However, these two turned out to be the Punisher's enemies, which surprised Bucky and directly advanced the main storyline of the Punisher's series of missions.
[System Information: After successfully defeating Billy Russo and William Rollins, the two culprits, you have completed the series mission "The Origin of the Punisher," mainline mission "Revenge," gained 2000 experience points, and obtained two random item boxes (blue rare);
Remarks: The series of quests "Origin of the Punisher" still has mainline quests that can be triggered. You need to contact Frank Castle to find out how to trigger it yourself.]
Although Frank has his reasons for revenge, he is still just Frank, not the Punisher. This is only part of his origin story, and it should help him become the Punisher later.
But thinking of his two children... Bucky felt a bit hesitant. Perhaps it is the most correct choice for Frank to let go of his hatred and focus on his family, taking care of his children again?
Let him choose for himself; this can only be up to him. Bucky has no desire to interfere; he will only wait for the result.
Even without the origin of the Punisher, the Punisher still exists, and there will be opportunities to trigger missions with him in the future, so it doesn't matter if he doesn't appear.
Anyway, let it be.
Or back to the rewards.
2000 experience points!
Two blue rare-grade boxes!
As expected of a series of missions for a well-known (anti)hero like the Punisher, the rewards are extraordinary!
With this 2000 experience, along with the previous two engagements with Billy and his men, and the last time with Billy and William, Bucky directly leveled up!
[System Information: Experience value sufficient; leveling up;
Character Level: 4;
Experience;
You gain 1 free attribute point;
You gain 1 free feat point.]
[System, free attribute points added to intelligence, expertise points added to "Vicious Spread."]
[System Information: Point allocation completed;
Character: James Buchanan Barnes;
Level 5;
Strength 8 (Movement 7, Annihilation 7, Brawl 8);
Reaction 8 (Pistol 7, Assault 7, Sword 7);
Technology 4 (Engineering 2, Crafting 4);
Intelligence 9 (Intrusion Protocol 2, Quick Crack 2);
Calm 11 (Stealth 8, Cold Blood 3);
Life Value:;
Endurance Value:;
Added the quick-cracking specialty talent "Vicious Spread";
Vicious Spread: Your aggressive quick cracking skill will additionally spread to a hostile target within 20 meters.]
After the upgrade, life +10, stamina +5, and with the daily street actions all the time, this time is considered a relatively large action, which improved Bucky's close combat specialty [Brawl] a bit.
Close combat includes, but is not limited to, fists and cold weapons. As long as the enemy is in close range, Bucky will receive a damage bonus.
Engineering, production, quick cracking, intrusion protocol, stealth, and cold-blooded specialties that will be used in daily actions have also seen improvements.
However, after raising [Creation] to 4, the [Technology] attribute is limited to only 4 points. If you create items later, you will not gain experience points.
But Bucky still chose to continue increasing his intelligence. Hacking and production are both in the late stages, so he needs to be more specialized. First, he will upgrade so that he can see the effect faster.
The same is true for specialties. Bucky chose the quick-crack specialty talent of intelligence attribute [Vicious Spread], allowing his skill [Electromagnetic Short Circuit] to hit two targets at once, which greatly alleviates the problem of excessive cooldown time.
After the upgrade, Bucky didn't rush to open the boxes but returned home first.
For something as sacred as opening the boxes, of course, one needs to take a shower and change clothes first, apply the cream bought for little Skye on his face, and then meditate cross-legged for an hour.
[System Information: Opening the random item boxes (blue rare) *2, you get the item "Network Monitoring Network Drive Type 3" and the item "Missile Ejection System;"
Network Monitoring Network Drive Type 3: Network Access Warehouse (Blue Rare), 6 Basic RAM, 4 Quick Crack Plugin Slots; can perform quick cracking on targets or devices scanned by the cybernetic eye; quick cracking damage +10%; RAM recovers an additional 3 every 60 seconds; aggressive quick cracking can additionally spread to one target;
Missile Ejection System: Arm prosthetic transformation (Blue Rare); can launch various types of missiles.]
Good guy!
Bucky stared at the two items that appeared, stunned for an unknown amount of time, then suddenly jumped three feet high, punched the air in excitement, and silently shouted!
Awesome! It's truly awesome!
I might really be a MC!
The blue rare network access warehouse, like the quick-crack plug-in, requires the anti-human orange legendary quick-crack component for manufacturing. This is equivalent to the blue rare box, which directly opens the orange legend!
Moreover, this powerful additional attribute allowed Bucky to add 2 quick-cracking skill slots, along with an additional diffusion effect, allowing the [Electromagnetic Short Circuit] skill to directly hit 3 targets at once!
A great sense of happiness filled Bucky's heart, making him want to rap!
[System, implanting the network access compartment, implanting the missile ejection system into the right arm.]
With a thought, Bucky's mind saw his brain and right arm enveloped in red and blue neon blocks, and he felt a strange sensation. Then he noticed that several metal lines gradually appeared on his right forearm, extending from the elbow to the wrist.
With another thought, a sudden mechanical sound emanated from his right forearm, disassembling itself, and a missile bracket rose from within, holding a missile the size of a cigar.
This thing is also very powerful. Its item description is "handheld missile launch system (no exaggeration)," which is truly fitting. The missile above is more powerful and explosive than an RPG.
Moreover, various types of missiles, such as electric shock, combustion, and chemical properties, can be loaded to cause corresponding explosion effects.
It's just that unlike the one-time installation in the game that can be refilled infinitely, Bucky needs to manufacture missiles himself, similar to making bullets. It is equivalent to a standard bullet in a magazine and requires 12 common item components.
If it weren't for this system being usable only by himself, Bucky would have been tempted to sell arms.
After playing around a few times, popping it up and putting it away, Bucky had a thought, unloaded the missile, and placed it back into the system backpack.
Keeping a missile in his arm all day was not for the entertainment of an "ex-wife."
Following the flickering of red and blue neon blocks in Bucky's hand, a small device appeared.
The device Hydra used to brainwash the Winter Soldier—the mind controller.
But Bucky didn't disassemble it directly, although even the basic network access compartment could dismantle the rare blue quick-cracking components.
Instead, he solemnly stored it in the system backpack and then added a note to this gadget himself—proving that the Winter Soldier had been ruthlessly and repeatedly brainwashed by Hydra.
Isn't one of the biggest reasons he worked so hard to become stronger to repay the pain that Hydra had inflicted upon him?
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Chapter 36 Today I Know You Are You
Early morning.
"How is the new school? Have you made any friends?"
Bucky, who was in a good mood, asked little Skye while having breakfast.
The little girl is of mixed race, with an appearance that leans more towards Eastern aesthetics, making her less likely to be accepted by white children and other minority groups. She had an experience in the past that she didn't want to mention.
Bucky worried that she might not dare to make friends at school and would be labeled as withdrawn, possibly bullied by a few girls on campus.
"Well enough," little Skye replied.
As expected, she hadn't communicated well with the other children. Bucky really didn't have any experience in this area and could only rely on little Skye for insights about school. He hoped there wouldn't be any bad boys or girls bullying her.
"I have a task for you. I want you to find a classmate, introduce yourself, and chat a little. If you can make friends, I'll take you to Coney Island on the weekends. How does that sound?"
"...Then let me try," little Skye said. She wasn't very enthusiastic at first, but when she heard that Bucky wanted to take her to play, her big eyes sparkled, and she immediately nodded.
After chatting with little Skye for a while, Bucky opened the door and sent her off to school with the nanny.
As they left, just before he could close the door, the door of the next room opened.
"Morning, Hill... Hey, how did I mess with you again?"
Maria's slim figure, glamorous face, and small eyes full of resentment appeared.
"...Please come in, make yourself at home."
Hill huffed and walked directly into Bucky's room, leaving him alone again in a polite silence.
"Coffee, bacon omelet, yogurt mixed with fruit—eat some, or you won't have the energy to get angry."
Bucky prepared a hearty breakfast, and Hill didn't hesitate. She picked up a piece of crispy fried bacon and chewed it as if trying to relieve her frustration.
"You guy, you have no credibility. You don't stick to what you say. If you agree to act together, you leave me halfway."
That was true... Bucky clenched his fist and lightly tapped his palm, realizing that he had forgotten something important. When he was chasing Billy last night, he had left Hill at the safe house.
"I sincerely apologize for that," Bucky said, bowing exaggeratedly as if to lighten the mood, despite feeling no real guilt.
His behavior and Frank's antics at the end of last night were indeed not suitable for Hill to see. Perhaps after finding Frank, he had subconsciously wanted to leave Hill behind.
Hill shot Bucky a hard look, continuing to vent her anger on the bacon. She poked two poached eggs into pieces with a knife.
Tsk, why was she in such a rush?
Though she was angry, she also knew that she wouldn't get a sincere apology from Bucky. Later, when she visited the yacht and saw the bloody scene and Billy's fate, her emotions were complicated.
She also understood the grievances between Billy and Frank. Although she resisted Frank and Bucky's actions, she couldn't bring herself to condemn them outright.
If someone killed her loved ones, facing her life-and-death enemies, she wouldn't dare to think about what she would consider the right choice: bringing the perpetrators to justice or avenging her losses with her own hands.
"Also, you still owe me an answer."
Hill didn't come just to express her anger; she was also waiting for Bucky to tell her who he truly was, as promised.
"About who I am? Well, since you want to know, let's start in 1942..."
"Why don't you start with 1922?"
Hill subconsciously thought that if Bucky were going to be serious, he would start with something from his grandfather's generation.
"Fine, let's start from 1922. When I was only five years old, I met my first little friend in life, Steve Rogers..."
"Stop, stop." Hill thought that Bucky was making up a story and rolled her eyes angrily. "Are you writing a novel? You can tell Agent Coulson that he is a loyal fan of Captain America... Wait, are you serious?"
However, Hill received Bucky's slightly helpless but serious gaze in response, leaving her completely confused.
"Don't tell me you're James Buchanan Barnes? You're a descendant of him."
Hill had never considered this; who would associate the long-haired, bearded, always erratic Johnny with the soldier who fought alongside Captain America during World War II?
But after examining Bucky more closely, she saw that he indeed resembled Bucky Barnes, the man she had seen once or twice in Captain America's memorial.
"It's true. I'm the man behind Captain America, um, the man diagonal to him—Bucky Barnes."
"How do you prove it? Tell me something that only you would know."
Hill blurted this out without thinking, feeling a bit embarrassed. Bucky burst out laughing.
"Then I'll just make something up, and you won't know if it's true or not. Besides, Bucky Barnes isn't a celebrity; he's just Captain America's sidekick. I don't need to pretend to be him. Anyway, if you don't believe me, you can go ask Howard Stark for confirmation."
"...Then what have you been through that you haven't changed until today?"
"That's another story. Back then..."
Bucky recounted how he had tricked Howard, replacing Hydra with a mysterious evil organization, but this was the most truthful account he could share.
Listening to him, Hill's eyes widened in shock, her mouth slightly agape, perfectly embodying the word 'stunned.'
This was even stranger than Bucky simply being Bucky!
Since the person in front of her was Bucky Barnes, only such an extraordinary backstory could make sense, right?
This kind of abnormality was a normal occurrence, leaving Hill feeling a bit dizzy.
After a while, Bucky finished reading the morning news and typed on the computer for a bit before Hill snapped back to reality.
Then there was no one in front of her... Well, even though it was Bucky Barnes, it felt like he was just Johnny, the guy who was always annoying.
Or perhaps this was the true nature of this guy; he wasn't deceiving her in every aspect.
In short, Hill reluctantly accepted this setting, and the feeling of having a legendary figure beside her was quite touching.
"I finally understand why Howard Stark, one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D., has such a good relationship with you, and why you have so much freedom in letting the bureau cooperate with you."
"Yeah, it's all because of Howard. Otherwise, I'd probably be drawn for blood every day by your S.H.I.E.L.D. like Steve was back then."
"You're talking nonsense; we're not what you think."
"You don't know how many tubes of blood Steve had drawn back then."
"Can you tell me what happened back then? In fact, it's not just Agent Coulson; I'm very curious about those events."
"Clearly, you didn't recognize me, but Coulson figured it out after a few glances."
"Well, I wanted to ask Ms. Peggy Carter about it."
"Sister-in-law, I don't know her very well. Back then..."
-----------------
Memory updated
Here's the revised version of Chapter 37: