Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump...
A dull knocking sound came from beneath their feet, and several soldiers patrolling the white presidential suite corridor stopped simultaneously.
"What's that sound?"
Before they could figure out the situation, the floor beneath their feet suddenly disappeared, revealing several neat, square holes.
The soldiers only had time to let out a short gasp before they plummeted straight into the holes.
Immediately after, a hand gripped the edge of the opening. Darian leaped up, carrying a diamond pickaxe, followed closely by Wolverine and Old Hawkeye, who nimbly vaulted onto the corridor.
Only Wade, that guy, lay with his upper body on the edge of the floor, wiggling his butt and kicking several times before he finally grunted and groaned his way up.
After standing steady, he brushed the dust off his uniform and turned to look at the pickaxe in Darian's hand.
"Buddy, aren't your elements a bit mixed up? How did even Minecraft end up intruding here?"
"Don't worry about those details."
Darian flipped his wrist, and the diamond pickaxe vanished.
"What's our plan next?" Old Hawkeye asked in a low voice.
"Find Red Skull, and then... neutralize!"
Darian made a throat-slitting gesture.
Although the other three didn't understand the word, the meaning was perfectly clear.
Wolverine frowned: "The problem is we don't know exactly where he's hiding; this place is too big."
"That's simple."
Darian's lips curled slightly, and in his hand, a delicate hummingbird-shaped mechanical device appeared out of nowhere.
[Equipment: Hummingbird Spy Camera (Deploys a hummingbird-shaped spy camera to automatically track and visually mark a designated target)]
He lifted his hand, and the mechanical hummingbird fluttered its wings lightly, gliding silently into the depths of the corridor and disappearing into the shadows of the corner in the blink of an eye.
In just a few seconds, a red humanoid outline lit up in Darian's field of vision—it was Red Skull, marked by the mechanical hummingbird, clearly located on the east side of the building's top floor.
"Found him, follow me."
Darian took the lead and moved quickly toward the stairs, with the others following.
But just as they crossed a lateral corridor, the sound of rhythmic footsteps came from the corner ahead. A squad of heavily armed patrol soldiers came toward them, their muzzles aimed squarely at them.
Clearly, their whereabouts had been discovered.
"Fire!!"
The Captain in the lead ordered sharply. The soldiers did not hesitate, pulling their triggers, and tongues of fire erupted instantly!
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat—!
Countless bullets poured down like a rainstorm.
Old Hawkeye reacted extremely quickly, using an i-frame roll to dodge behind a decorative stone pillar. The bullets chased him, hitting the pillar surface, and marble fragments splattered everywhere.
Darian was half a beat slower; he took a dozen shots before slowly hiding behind another pillar, with half his body still exposed—the epitome of perfunctory.
As for Wade and Wolverine, they acted as if they had no dodge skills at all, standing in place and taking a full magazine of bullets before falling to the ground, starting to slack off in plain sight.
After lying flat, Wade even had the leisure to reach out and scratch his butt, then wiggled to adjust his position, making himself more comfortable.
Old Hawkeye caught this scene out of the corner of his eye and his mouth twitched slightly. Ignoring the two bastards, he shouted at Darian.
"Hey, Darian, I heard your marksmanship is excellent. Do you want to compete with me?"
Back when he couldn't see, he had heard that Darian, using only two guns, had single-handedly taken out a crowd of Kingpin's thugs, with every shot being a headshot—a clear sign of a sharpshooter.
Now that his eyes had regained their sight and his strength had returned to its peak, his palms were itching, which was why he challenged Darian.
He had absolute confidence in his archery. Although Darian's strength was great, in the field of marksmanship, Old Hawkeye didn't think he would lose to anyone.
"Sure."
Darian replied nonchalantly.
"Then I'll use a bow, and you use a pistol. Let's see who kills more and faster."
Old Hawkeye grinned and launched the attack first.
Taking advantage of the momentary lull in the enemy's fire, he quickly leaned out, drew his bow, and nocked an arrow—all in one fluid motion.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Three purple-fletched arrows pierced through the air, accurately sinking into the exposed gaps in the three soldiers' neck protection, killing them instantly.
But this was just the beginning.
Old Hawkeye's movements were smooth as flowing water. Drawing an arrow from the quiver, nocking the string, drawing the bow, and releasing became a rhythmic, almost instinctive sequence.
He didn't even need to aim visually for long; relying on the powerful senses honed over these years, he could judge the enemies' positions and movements.
Arrows left the string one after another, each one precise and lethal. The enemies in the corridor fell one by one to the hum of the bowstring; not a single arrow missed.
As an ordinary person with no superpowers and no money power, Old Hawkeye could naturally hold his own in the Avengers, that super-hero team, because he possessed extraordinary skill.
Very quickly, Old Hawkeye had taken out a small half of the soldiers in the corridor.
It wasn't that he didn't want to keep killing; it was that he was out of arrows...
As everyone knows, Hawkeye is just an ordinary person who plays with a bow; without a bow, he's just an ordinary person.
Old Hawkeye's movements stalled, and a flash of embarrassment crossed his face.
Should have brought two more quivers of arrows.
"My turn."
Darian chuckled, and suddenly a gatling gun with a cold metallic sheen appeared in his hand.
The six barrels began to rotate, emitting a low, terrifying hum.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—!!
The deafening roar instantly filled the entire corridor!
The flames spewing from the muzzle were a dazzling azure blue, looking incredibly cool. Countless bullets swept toward the soldiers in front, and shell casings clattered onto the floor, the crisp tinkling sound never-ending.
The soldiers had no time to dodge or fight back; they were torn to shreds in this violent firepower, and their cover shattered one after another.
After one round of strafing, there were no figures standing on the other side.
Darian released the trigger, the gatling gun's rotation slowly stopped, and the barrels emitted wisps of blue smoke.
He looked at the dumbfounded Old Hawkeye and said happily: "Looks like you lost."
"You f***ing call this a pistol!?"
Old Hawkeye looked at the still-smoking gatling gun, his face turning black.
Darian hoisted the gatling gun onto his shoulder, looking perfectly matter-of-fact: "A gun that can be operated with one hand—how is it not a pistol?"
Old Hawkeye: "..."
After clearing out the soldiers, the two slackers lying on the ground also slowly climbed up.
The four of them didn't linger, quickly passing through the corridor filled with thick gunpowder smoke and the smell of blood, continuing to advance to the upper floor.
They encountered a few more waves of patrol soldiers along the way, but these ordinary people were no match for them and were taken care of in a few moves.
Of course, it was mainly Darian and Old Hawkeye doing the output; Wolverine refused to make a move the whole time, only taking the hits.
As for Wade, a pure slacker, not worth mentioning.
Soon, they arrived in front of a heavy metal door on the top floor. According to the hummingbird camera's marker, Red Skull was inside.
Darian took out the Master Key and easily opened it.
The room was dimly lit, with only a few beams of pale spotlights falling from above.
The first thing that caught their eyes was a huge transparent display case in the center of the room, designed like a museum showcase. Inside were neatly arranged various relics of superheroes. From the damaged marks, one could imagine the brutality of the battles back then.
Among them were many items familiar to Darian, such as Iron Man's gold-red armor, Spider-Man's mask, Thor's winged helmet, Hulk's big purple pants...
Well, the other heroes' relics all had some damage, but only Hulk's big pants were completely undamaged, not even a loose thread—truly very collectible.
And directly above the large display case, there was another, slightly smaller independent display case, inside of which hung a single star-spangled round shield—it was Captain America's shield.
It was wiped spotless, reflecting cold light under the spotlights, and its placement was exceptionally prominent, as if it were the center of the entire room.
Anyone could see how much the owner of this room valued this Captain America; calling him a die-hard fan would not be an exaggeration.
"Oh, my poor little Spider-Man."
Wade looked at the Spider-Man mask in the display case, covered his face, and let out an exaggerated, dry howl. Unfortunately, the crying was so fake and forced that one could feel the lack of sincerity in his acting even through his mask.
But this affected, artificial sadness actually infected Old Hawkeye and Wolverine, and both of them looked somber.
After all, there were quite a few relics of their old friends in the display case.
"Hawkeye, Wolverine, what rare guests. Are you here to visit your dead comrades?"
A hoarse, cold voice came from deep in the shadows on the side.
Everyone turned to look and saw a figure draped in a black robe slowly pacing out of the darkness in the corner, stepping into the pale circle of light.
The newcomer's face was fully exposed in the light. His skin was a shocking blood-red, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, and his cheekbones protruded. His whole face was like a dried-out skeleton specimen—the kind you wouldn't even need makeup for on Halloween.
[NPC: John Schmidt]
[Codename: Red Skull]
[Favorability: -50]
[Evaluation: Leader of HYDRA, Captain America's number one toxic fan, mastermind of major events, the gatekeeper of the Soul Stone]
This was none other than the first generation of HYDRA, Red Skull.
And what was particularly jarring was that under Red Skull's black robe, he was actually wearing a familiar blue uniform. The white five-pointed star on the chest was clear and eye-catching—it was Captain America's classic battle suit.
It was just that this suit looked empty and awkward on Red Skull; the shoulder lines were saggy, the waist was loose, and it couldn't support the silhouette that should have been upright and imposing. After all, he didn't have Captain America's full chest muscles and American-style perky butt.
"Red Skull!"
Old Hawkeye squeezed this name out through his teeth, his eyes spitting fire.
He knew very well that Red Skull was one of the masterminds behind the attack fifty years ago, and he had a pile of blood debts that Red Skull needed to pay back.
Wolverine also stared fiercely at Red Skull.
The person who directed Mysterio's operation back then was this guy, Red Skull.
Red Skull scanned the two furious men and finally landed on Wolverine, his lips pulling into a sneer.
"Wolverine, why aren't you honestly hiding in your country field waiting to die, dragging this old set of bones up here? Continue to rot in your dog kennel, and maybe you could just barely scrape through the rest of your pathetic life."
Wolverine gritted his teeth and asked: "Where is Mysterio?"
"Do you think I would tell you?"
Red Skull laughed disdainfully, completely ignoring the surging killing intent in Wolverine's eyes, and turned to look at the other two.
"I do know Deadpool."
Red Skull looked closely at Darian: "But who are you? Your name doesn't seem to be on my list."
Darian said happily: "My name is Darian. Come to think of it, we should be considered colleagues."
"Darian, this guy is HYDRA," Old Hawkeye reminded him from the side.
"Yeah, I'm HYDRA too."
"???"
Old Hawkeye was bewildered upon hearing this: "But didn't you say you were a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent?"
Darian said honestly: "I am a HYDRA spy lurking inside S.H.I.E.L.D.; I am both a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent and HYDRA."
Old Hawkeye: "..."
So all this time I've been hanging out with a HYDRA member!?
Old Hawkeye's expression became extremely stiff, his voice dry: "Could S.H.I.E.L.D. in your World have already been destroyed by HYDRA?"
With the strength Darian had shown, he couldn't imagine how S.H.I.E.L.D. in another World could resist HYDRA.
Darian shook his head: "S.H.I.E.L.D. in my World was long ago completely infiltrated by HYDRA. More than half of the employees are HYDRA people; who would destroy their own industry?"
Old Hawkeye's mouth twitched: "Does the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury, know about this?"
"He's long since not been the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. He now manages the HYDRA forces within S.H.I.E.L.D., battling wits every day with the current Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., thinking about how to get more budget and funding for HYDRA without being discovered."
Old Hawkeye: "..."
He suddenly felt some sympathy for the current Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. in that other World.
"Enough!"
Red Skull suddenly roared, interrupting their conversation.
Damn it, he was still standing here, and these two were just chatting away, completely disregarding him!
Red Skull's face was terrifyingly dark: "I have no interest in listening to your absurd jokes. No matter who you are, today you have only one outcome: to add a few more trophies to my display cabinet..."
Swish—!
Before he finished speaking, the sound of something piercing the air suddenly arose.
Old Hawkeye started with a frame-zero move; the bowstring vibrated, and a purple-fletched arrow shot straight at Red Skull's glabella like a bolt of lightning!
However, Red Skull made no move, standing there motionless, letting the purple-fletched arrow pierce through his skull.
The eerie thing was that there was no sound of it hitting flesh.
The purple-fletched arrow seemed to pass through a phantom, piercing straight through Red Skull's skull and pinning into the wall behind, its tail feathers still trembling.
And Red Skull's figure began to blur, turning into a swirling mass of green mist, slowly dissipating in place.
"This is... Mysterio's ability!"
Wolverine's pupils contracted suddenly, and he clenched his fists immediately.
He knew this scene all too well; it was precisely this indistinguishable illusion that had blinded all his senses back then, causing him to kill almost all the X-Men with his own hands.
"Hehe, did you think I would come unprepared?"
Red Skull's hoarse voice came from the other end of the room.
His figure appeared again not far away, and beside him, several figures of various shapes had appeared.
"From the very moment you stepped in, you already fell into my trap."