Jack Kadere lifted his foot and tapped it deliberately, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Because I'm wearing shoes," he teased.
Martin Li—Mr. Negative—stared at him, expression dark. "...???"
"Relax," Jack said casually, "I'm just having a little spar with you."
Before Mr. Negative could even process the words, Jack raised his hand slightly. The rubble that had been scattered from their clash suddenly reformed, stone fragments pulling together as if magnetized. In an instant, the Stone Giant reassembled itself, looming over the battlefield once again.
Martin's face twitched. This guy can summon it again? Then why the hell did I fight so hard just now?!
Jack's smile only deepened. He knew Martin didn't buy his talk of "just sparring." No, Martin could sense the truth—Jack Kadere wasn't toying with him out of mercy. He was testing him.
And then—
Mr. Negative lunged into the crowd, snatching up a terrified couple—a man and woman. His inhuman strength, even weakened by injury, was enough to subdue them instantly. He pressed them close, voice low and dangerous.
"Let me go! Otherwise, I'll kill them!"
Jack tilted his head, unimpressed. "You're threatening me with them?"
Just then, the familiar chime of the System echoed in Jack's mind. Reward received.
Jack had been ready to leave, but seeing Martin's desperate gamble, his amusement grew.
He raised his hand, thumb and index finger forming the shape of a pistol, pressing it lightly against the side of his head. "Bang~"
The Stone Giant collapsed into dust once again.
Martin exhaled in relief— "Whew…"
But then he saw Jack striding toward him, eyes calm, footsteps steady.
"Don't come over! Don't you dare come over—!!"
Martin's panic spiked. His grip tightened unconsciously, and with a sickening crunch, the male hostage's neck snapped. The man's body went limp, dropping like a marionette with cut strings.
Martin's eyes darted to Jack, as if to say: See? I'm serious!
But Jack's steps never faltered.
"You!" Martin's heart pounded. Even if I die… I'll drag someone down with me!
He gritted his teeth and tightened his hold on the woman—
"Let her go!!"
A sharp clang split the air. Whoosh—bang!
A circular trash can lid whirled like a discus, striking Martin squarely in the skull and sending him sprawling across the pavement. The remaining hostage slipped from his grasp, scrambling away in terror.
The crowd gasped and parted. All eyes turned toward the source of the throw.
Charging forward with speed and power beyond any normal human was a broad-shouldered man, blond hair catching the light. His face was unmistakable.
Steve Rogers.
Captain America.
...
Meanwhile, on a faraway asteroid drifting in the void—
"The Tesseract has awakened…" a deep, resonant voice rumbled.
"It rests in the human world, and now the mortals try to harness its power… to control it. Foolish."
"They lack the knowledge. Only our chosen ally can truly master the secrets of the Tesseract."
A scepter topped with the glowing Mind Stone was handed to a tall figure cloaked in green.
"Send the ally first. Our Chitauri army will follow. This planet shall belong to him…"
A pause, then a chilling smile. "But the universe itself will belong to us."
"What can humans do? Nothing. They can only wait for death."
...
Back on Earth.
Steve Rogers had only just fled from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s facility, his mind reeling with confusion. One moment, he'd been asleep in the 1940s. The next, he woke up in a strange modern city full of blinding lights, roaring cars, and glass towers.
Disoriented and lost, he had stumbled into this very street—just in time to see Mr. Negative murder a man in cold blood.
Steve didn't hesitate. Grabbing the nearest thing to a shield—a battered trash can lid—he hurled it with practiced precision.
"Uh…" Martin groaned, clutching his head as he staggered to his feet. His blurred vision cleared, and when he saw who was charging at him, he wasn't dismayed. He was elated.
Steve Rogers radiated strength, something Martin could use.
As soon as Steve closed the distance, he struck with clean, efficient combat maneuvers, easily overpowering the already-wounded Martin Li.
But the moment they made contact—
A surge of dark energy spread like a shockwave.
Steve's eyes widened as Mr. Negative's corruptive aura flooded into him.
"Ugh—ahhh!!"
His hands clutched at his skull, veins standing out as a torrent of twisted emotions clawed at his mind.
Jack Kadere raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Well, now this is getting fun…"
Steve's spirit was already unsteady—betrayed by S.H.I.E.L.D., overwhelmed by the world's changes, grief still simmering beneath his calm. Now all those emotions were amplified to unbearable levels.
Mr. Negative's ability wasn't like Kilgrave's mind control, which forced obedience through suggestion. No—Martin's power dragged out the darkness that already lived inside the heart, multiplying it until reason cracked.
And even Captain America's iron will was not immune.
Steve's body trembled as the Negative Energy consumed him, his once-clear blue eyes clouding with a storm of rage and despair.
"Hehehe…"
Martin wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, a cruel smile forming. Despite his injuries, he could feel the energy coursing through Steve Rogers. This man wasn't ordinary at all. If he could keep control of him… he might even escape Jack Kadere.
But—
Woosh. Woosh. Woosh.
Engines roared as a convoy of black SUVs screeched to a halt around the chaos. Armed agents poured out, weapons drawn, pushing back the panicking civilians.
"Everyone clear the area! Move, now!"
The car door slammed.
Nick Fury stepped out, trench coat swaying, one eye narrowing as he scanned the wreckage.
"...Motherf***er."
In front of him was a disaster. Black Spider—Jack Kadere—standing in the open. A crater splitting the road. A corpse lying nearby. A strange figure glowing like an X-ray—their database had him flagged as "Mr. Negative." And worst of all—
Steve Rogers, clutching his head, on the verge of collapse.
This was not what Fury expected.
He had come here with a simple plan: locate Captain America, calm him down, and convince him to return with S.H.I.E.L.D. for debriefing.
Instead, everything had gone sideways.
"First things first," Fury muttered, sharp as ever. He barked to his men: "Check on the Captain. Now!"
Several agents leveled their weapons at Martin Li, while others cautiously approached Steve, who was still trembling under the grip of Negative Energy.
Martin's eyes darted to the men in black. He didn't know who they were, but he assumed they were just another government task force sent to arrest him.
And that assumption gave him an idea.
....
So, without hesitation, he tightened his grip on the Negative Energy already clouding Steve's mind. Captain America's body moved in a flash, attacking with the precision of a hawk diving for prey.
Bang! Bang! Crack!
The approaching agents were struck down one after another, Captain America's fists and boots blurring with restrained but overwhelming force. Even while under control, Steve subconsciously held back his true strength—otherwise those well-trained men wouldn't have simply been knocked out, they would've been left broken and possibly dead.
"Son of a—!"
Nick Fury swore under his breath. He understood immediately: Rogers wasn't acting of his own free will. Mr. Negative had him in his grasp.
Steve Rogers had just woken up from the ice, barely had time to orient himself to this new century, and already he'd stumbled out of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s grasp straight into a villain's control. Fury ground his teeth—could the man's luck get any worse?
As if on cue, data streams flashed on a portable terminal one agent handed him: surveillance footage, cross-referenced intel, and the criminal file on Martin Li. Fury's one good eye scanned it all and pieced the situation together in seconds.
Slowly, his gaze shifted toward the figure watching quietly from the shadows—
Jack Kadere, the Black Spider.
So, this whole damn mess started with you... And now you're just sitting there, enjoying the show? You don't even feel the slightest bit guilty?
"Black Spider, this chaos is yours to clean up!" Fury barked, his tone gruff but edged with a plea. "Step up and fix the problem!"
He didn't want to provoke Jack Kadere—few in the world did—but Fury had no choice. His elite field operatives were stretched thin: Natasha Romanoff was out on assignment; Clint Barton was overseeing surveillance at the Tesseract facility; Barbara Morse, Mockingbird, was buried deep undercover with the Ghost Spider syndicate, practically running it from the inside. And now, their newly recovered symbol of liberty, Captain America, was literally being puppeteered against them.
They had nobody left to turn to. Nobody… except Kadere.
But Jack just raised a hand lazily.
Every agent in the area tensed, thinking he was about to retaliate against Fury's demand. Fingers tightened on triggers—
Instead, Jack simply gave a casual wave. A farewell gesture.
Then, in a blink, his form flickered out of sight.
Nick Fury's face twitched. "What the—? Did he just… leave? In the middle of a fight?"
It was hard to tell under the shadows of his face, but his frustration burned like a storm.
Meanwhile, the battle was escalating.
Bang! Crack! Wham!
Steve Rogers, still under Martin Li's thrall, took down S.H.I.E.L.D. agents with surgical precision. One after another fell, until the ground around them was littered with groaning operatives.
Fury's eye hardened like steel. He barked rapid commands: "Suppress Rogers with covering fire! The rest of you—focus on Martin Li!"
"Roger that!"
Half a dozen agents raised their weapons and let off controlled bursts.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bullets stitched toward Captain America. Forced to defend himself, Steve moved aside from Martin Li's position.
And that was the flaw in Mr. Negative's power. His control was strong, but it required continuous focus and energy. The reservoir of Negative Energy he had forced into Steve's body was already running thin. Steve wasn't yet free, but he was no longer as obedient. He refused to obey suicidal commands—like throwing himself in front of live gunfire.
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents surged in, closing the circle around Martin Li.
Breathing heavily, Martin endured the strain. His enhanced physiology kept him moving, but against coordinated gunfire and trained agents, even his resilience faltered.
Two bullets found their mark—one tearing through his shoulder, another grazing his arm. Black-and-white blood sprayed in surreal blossoms.
Pinned, Martin stumbled, and for a moment Fury's lips almost curled in victory.
Finally...
Woo—! Woo—! Woo—!
The sound of engines tore through the street. Several unmarked sedans screeched to a halt across from the S.H.I.E.L.D. transport trucks.
Doors flew open. Men wearing grotesque demon masks poured out, armed and bristling with firearms. They fanned out quickly, leveling their weapons at Fury's agents.
The Inner Demons had arrived.
Of course, their timing wasn't as sharp as a covert ops unit—these were street thugs, not seasoned operatives. They'd simply been slower to rally, which explained why they only now showed up.
"Hah…" Martin exhaled relief as two masked subordinates rushed to drag him into one of the cars. His body finally allowed him a breath, his mind clearing enough to issue orders.
"Don't start a firefight," he instructed. "These are government men. Just scare them. We leave now."
His subordinate nodded and turned to relay the command—
But Fury's eyes narrowed.
Martin Li wanted to retreat quietly.
Nick Fury? He had no intention of letting Mr. Negative slip through his fingers.
Would S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives—elite, professionally trained, and seasoned against metahumans—ever be cowed by mere gangsters?
Even Wilson Fisk, the infamous Kingpin, had once been forced into a corner and dragged into prison because of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s relentless pursuit. Fury wasn't about to allow another rising kingpin of crime to slip away.
Nick Fury's one good eye glared from under his leather trench coat. He barked a single order with deadly finality: "Arrest them all!"
And just like that, the night exploded into chaos.
Bang! Pop! Boom! Crack! Thud!
Gunfire roared across the street, echoing between skyscrapers. Initially, Fury thought the skirmish would be over in minutes. Against the sheer discipline and advanced weaponry of S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives, the Inner Demons should have collapsed.
But he quickly realized this wasn't going to be a routine takedown.
The Inner Demons fighters drew out blades, guns, and batons infused with Negative Energy, their weapons now glowing with a cold, dark aura. Empowered by Li's corruption, they moved with enhanced strength and resilience, matching the seasoned S.H.I.E.L.D. agents strike for strike.
A stalemate formed.
And with Captain America—still barely under Li's influence—fighting against his own allies, the tide was turning in the gang's favor. Some S.H.I.E.L.D. squads were already faltering under the combined pressure.
Nick Fury gritted his teeth, his frustration boiling over. It felt as though a lion had been backed into a corner by mongrel dogs—on his own turf, no less.
...
Not far away, Jack Kadere hadn't left the scene. Instead, he perched casually on a streetlamp above the carnage, arms folded, watching the spectacle unfold. A small grin tugged at his lips.
He glanced inward, focusing on the strange interface only he could see:
[You have defeated Gwen Stacy's destined enemy. As her 'Connected Person,' you may choose one of the following rewards:]
[Option One: Monetary Reward — One Million U.S. Dollars] [Option Two: Random Reward — Comprehend the use of the Biological Field] [Option Three: Subordinate Reward — Convert Martin Li into an absolutely loyal subordinate]
Jack hummed to himself. "Hmm… Martin Li, huh? He'd make a flashy addition. Pair him with Electro and you've basically got fireworks for days. Negative Energy weapons could also give merc groups like Silver Sable's Wild Pack an edge…"
But he already knew why he hadn't stepped in to help Fury. If S.H.I.E.L.D. got their hands on Mr. Negative, they would immediately turn him into another test subject, mass-producing Negative Energy weapons. Fury would never resist the temptation.
And Jack Kadere wasn't about to hand him that kind of advantage.
Still, Martin's loyalty wasn't worth as much compared to the second option. Jack's smirk deepened. "The Biological Field… now that's something else."
The so-called Biological Field was often theorized as Superman's hidden edge: an invisible aura generated by the body itself. It could ignore friction, pass through the Quantum Realm, evenly distribute physical force, or act as an almost impenetrable defense. On the flip side, with enough precision, it could concentrate devastating energy into a single point, alter atomic bonds, or even manipulate kinetic output.
In short—it was an ability shaped almost entirely by willpower and imagination. If you thought you could do it, you could.
Jack's eyes narrowed, making his choice without hesitation.
The power surged within him instantly. He could already sense how well it blended with his Golden Light Charm, each amplifying the other's protective and offensive capabilities. His grin widened. "Oh yeah. This is gonna be fun."
...
Back on the battlefield, Fury had drawn his sidearm and personally stepped into the fray, emptying rounds at controlled bursts. But even he couldn't land a decisive blow on Captain Rogers.
Cornered, Fury tried a different angle, shouting above the clash of steel and bullets: "Are you people seriously declaring war on S.H.I.E.L.D.? Do you have any idea what that means?"
But the Inner Demons weren't swayed. Many of them had no clue who S.H.I.E.L.D. even was. And under Martin Li's leadership—considered gentler compared to ruthless rivals like Hammerhead—they were loyal enough not to bend under intimidation.
Mr. Negative, however, knew exactly who Fury was—and the reputation of his organization.
His chest tightened. He realized escape was his only option.
Channeling the last reserves of Negative Energy inside Steve Rogers, he forced Captain America to charge directly at Nick Fury, buying himself precious seconds.
"Drive!" he barked at his trembling subordinate in the driver's seat.
The engine roared to life—woohoo!—and the car smashed through the blockade, tearing off into the night toward the outskirts.
Martin Li exhaled in relief, though his hands still trembled. He had no intention of clashing with S.H.I.E.L.D. again anytime soon.
...
Meanwhile, Fury found himself staring down Steve Rogers' sudden charge. His finger hovered over the trigger of his special-issue pistol, debating whether he could risk lethal force on America's greatest hero.
Then—
Clang!
A flash of red and gold armor slammed onto the pavement between them. A gauntleted hand caught Steve's incoming punch with ease.
"Now, who do we have here?" the newcomer quipped, voice filtered through a familiar electronic tone. "Some new super-criminal I didn't get the memo about?"
The faceplate shifted with a sharp click, revealing a familiar smirk.
"Director Fury," Tony Stark greeted, cocking his head, "I was planning to drag you to an art exhibit tonight. But judging by the way your skull was about to be caved in, I'd say the paintings can wait."
Fury grunted, half-relieved, half-exasperated. "Appreciate the timing, Stark. But be careful—this is no ordinary brawl. That's Captain Rogers you're tangling with."
"Captain Rogers?" Tony frowned inside the HUD. "Why does that name sound… vaguely familiar?"
Before he could think further, Steve suddenly gripped him tight and executed a brutal judo throw.
Bang!!
The armored Avenger slammed hard into the ground.
"Argh! Son of a—damn it, you overgrown gym rat!" Tony cursed. Repulsor thrusters flared, blasting Steve back in a burst of dazzling light.
The Iron Man armor lifted into the air with a hiss of repulsors, stabilizing at hover. Stark raised a palm cannon, leveling it toward Rogers, who had been hurled into a pile of wrecked cars.
"Not bad, old-timer," Tony muttered. "But now you're gonna see what twenty-first century firepower looks like. Wait a second… that name. Rogers. Why does it sound exactly like that World War II popsicle soldier?"
"Tony! Don't!" Fury shouted sharply. "He's not your enemy. That is Captain America—Steve Rogers!"
"What?" Tony's eyes widened inside the HUD. His hand cannon fizzled out as he canceled the shot. He turned to Fury, utterly baffled. "Okay, Fury, I know you've got a twisted sense of humor, but that's a pretty damn bold joke to crack in the middle of a warzone."