I'm having a blast in Marvel!

Page 47

Chu Hang opened his mouth, but found that he had no idea how to answer.

Claiming to be a World War II soldier? Just thawed out of ice? Only a madman would believe that.

"I...I don't know." He could only choose the answer closest to the truth, his voice dry and hoarse, "When I woke up, I was on this beach."

The young white man seemed to want to say something, but was stopped by a look from the black man.

The Black man took two steps forward, crouched down, and carefully picked up a blood clot mixed with tiny ice shards that Chu Hang had coughed up with tweezers, sealing it in a transparent evidence bag. After doing this, he stood up, his gaze falling once more on Chu Hang's face, his eyes seeming to see through to the deepest secrets of the heart.

“One last question,” he said calmly, “What year is it now?”

Chu Hang was stunned.

When asked this question, he blurted out instinctively, "1945."

Upon hearing this answer, the young white man's face showed a hint of undisguised surprise, while the black man's eyes became even more profound and solemn.

He straightened up, spoke into the communicator to his ear, and ordered in a detached tone: "Target confirmed, identity unknown, mental state suspected of being disordered, claims to be from 1945. Take him back and activate Level A quarantine protocol."

After saying that, he didn't look at Chu Hang again and turned to walk straight towards the car.

Two agents in black immediately stepped forward, flanking the weakened Chu Hang and leading him to one of the black sedans. Chu Hang did not resist; he sensed that his body was still recovering and there was no need to create chaos to attract attention. What he needed now was information about the current world.

In the last few seconds before boarding the bus, he clearly heard the conversation between the two people.

"Frey, do you think what he said is true? 1945?" The young white man, Phil Coulson, quickly caught up with Nick Fury and asked in a low voice.

“Whether it’s true or not is irrelevant, Coulson.” Fury’s steps didn’t falter at all. “What’s important is that a person wearing a military uniform from fifty years ago appeared unharmed at the entrance of the ‘Project Pegasus’ base. That in itself is not normal.”

"Project Pegasus"?

"Fifty years"?

These two words struck Chu Hang's mind like an invisible hammer, making him instantly understand something.

He was shoved into the car, and the door slammed shut. Through the window, he saw the outside world rushing past. He finally understood what had happened to him.

He didn't travel to another world.

He just... slept for fifty years.

I woke up to find everything turned upside down.

The room was pure white; the walls, ceiling, floor, and even the table and chairs in the center were all white, with no unnecessary furnishings. Chu Hang changed into a white outfit and sat quietly in a white chair.

He has been locked up here for several days.

Every day, food and water were delivered regularly. Researchers in white coats would also come and scan his body with various instruments he couldn't understand, take blood samples, and ask him some inexplicable and illogical questions.

Chu Hang was very cooperative.

Because here, through subtle conversations with the researchers and guard agents, he finally pieced together a vague outline of this new world.

It's 1995 now.

World War II had long ended, and the world order had undergone a dramatic transformation. The mysterious organization he belonged to was officially called the "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Execution and Logistics Agency," or "S.H.I.E.L.D." for short. The place where he was being held was the secret "Project Pegasus" base, jointly established by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the U.S. Air Force, whose core research project was the extraction of energy from the Tesseract.

Everything clicked.

Steve and he fell into the glacier together, and Captain America became an inspiring legend. As for himself, by a twist of fate, he awoke fifty years later and, unsurprisingly, was sent directly to the core base researching the energy of the Tesseract.

This twist of fate is even more coincidental than a movie script written by Howard Stark.

In the past few days, he has finally had time to calm down and carefully check his physical condition.

The [Super Copier] system had already restarted the day after he woke up. However, its condition was extremely poor, with flashing gibberish and glaring red [Warning] text everywhere on the system interface.

[System Status: Severely damaged. Energy core overloaded, currently self-repairing... Estimated repair time: Unknown.]

[Host Status: On the verge of collapse. Unresolved high-dimensional energy exists within the body, causing a severe rejection reaction with the host's life form. Healing factors and super-soldier serum are barely maintaining vital signs.]

[WARNING: Before the system is repaired and the high-dimensional energy conflict is resolved, the host must not use the copy function again, otherwise it will cause both the system and the host to annihilate simultaneously.]

After reading this information, Chu Hang felt a chill run down his spine.

In short, he's currently a hapless guy sleeping with a nuclear bomb that could explode at any moment. He has no control over the energy from the Cosmic Cube; instead, it's like a ticking time bomb that could blow him to smithereens at any moment. And his life-saving cheat code has completely shut down because of this reckless gamble; whether it can be repaired, and when it can be repaired, are all unknowns.

The only consolation is that his physical constitution is still intact. After the fusion of the healing factor and the super soldier serum, his physical strength and recovery ability are still far beyond those of ordinary people. However, most of his power is now being mobilized to suppress the unstable "nuclear bomb" inside his body.

"Damn it, this time we really messed up." Chu Hang leaned back in the cold chair and sighed helplessly.

Woo-woo-woo-woo!!!

Suddenly, the entire base was filled with an extremely piercing, highest-level alarm! The white ceiling light in the room, which symbolized safety, instantly turned into a rapidly flashing blood red, staining the pure white space with an ominous crimson hue!

"Warning! Warning! Unidentified flying object spotted over the base! Repeat! Unidentified flying object spotted over the base!"

"The roof of Area A has been breached! Unidentified personnel have fallen in! Requesting immediate tactical team support!"

The broadcast was filled with panic and chaos, interspersed with faint sounds of explosions coming from afar.

Chu Hang suddenly stood up from his chair.

A piercing glint flashed in his eyes. He knew this was his only chance to escape!

The origin story of Captain Marvel officially begins today, at this time and place!

And the ultimate antidote that could resolve the "nuclear bomb" inside him has arrived!

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Chapter 57 This is your chance.

The alarm blared like a rusty, dull saw, slowly and cruelly tearing at Chu Hang's eardrums. Each flash of the blood-red emergency lights stained the pure white cell a slaughterhouse-like crimson, and in the interplay of light and shadow, one could almost smell the stench of bloodshed.

Explosions, gunshots, and screams filled with fear and despair surged in from outside, wave after wave, the sound waves growing ever closer, as if the waves of hell were crashing against his lone boat.

Chu Hang stood in the center of the room. His body, frozen for half a century, had only recently awakened, still deeply weak, causing him to tremble uncontrollably. But the eyes within this frail shell shone with an astonishing light, a light that seemed to pierce through the cage. It was the gaze of a traveler who had trekked through an endless desert for months, on the verge of dehydration, finally catching sight of a patch of green on the horizon—a gaze mingled with madness, greed, and a resolute determination to stop at nothing.

He understood S.H.I.E.L.D.'s modus operandi better than anyone. Once this sudden chaos subsided, what awaited him was not freedom, but even tighter confinement and deeper research. They would dissect him layer by layer, analyzing him repeatedly, like a rare laboratory mouse, until they squeezed out the last trace of the secrets originating from the Cosmic Cube from him, then turn him into a specimen and seal him away forever. He absolutely could not allow that future to happen.

He had to escape.

Right now, right at this moment!

"Boom——!"

A deafening roar, deeper and more violent than any of the previous explosions, came from not far away, as if a prehistoric beast had rolled over underground. The entire room shook violently, and dust fell from the ceiling like a miniature snowfall. Chu Hang stumbled and nearly fell to the ground, a persistent feeling of weakness washing over him.

However, it was this devastating shockwave that brought life.

The white door before him, crafted from high-strength alloy and symbolizing absolute imprisonment, trembled violently with a sickening metallic clang. Fine cracks appeared at the junction of the door frame and the wall, and the sophisticated electronic lock panel on the door emitted a series of blinding sparks before plunging into complete darkness with a crackling sound.

The door was jolted open a crack. A crack just wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways, a passage that led to both hell and heaven.

Chu Hang's pupils suddenly shrank to a single point.

He didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second. Almost at the same instant the door lock went out, he mustered all his remaining strength and, like an arrow released from a bow, charged recklessly toward the gap, shoving his shoulder through and squeezing out.

The corridor outside the door was already a living hell.

The emergency lights flickered on and off, wildly switching between light and darkness, making everything before my eyes seem fragmented. The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder, burnt plastic, and an overwhelming stench of blood. The once pristine white walls were riddled with gruesome bullet holes and charred burn marks. Several agents in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms lay dead on the floor, their warm blood pooling into irregular dark red splatters on the tiles.

The surviving agents are using the corners of the corridor and collapsed bunkers to engage in fierce firefights with unseen enemies. Bullets whistle through the narrow space, each hit sending up sprays of cement debris and sparks.

Chu Hang's glaring white prison uniform made him a sitting duck in the chaotic and dimly lit environment.

He crouched low, his eyes scanning the trajectories of the exchanging fire. Now! In the brief interval between two volleys, he swiftly rolled forward, the movement flowing with the instinctive fluidity granted by his super-soldier serum, precisely taking cover behind a still-warm agent's corpse. Though physically weakened, his combat instincts were ingrained in his very bones.

His hands moved swiftly over the corpse, the cold touch coming from his fingertips.

He held a heavy pistol. Two spare magazines were stuffed into his pocket. A malfunctioning walkie-talkie, emitting static, was tossed aside.

He tucked his pistol behind his hip, his entire body pressed against the cold ground, like a snake slithering through the shadows, using rows of overturned filing cabinets and debris as cover, moving silently through the chaotic battlefield. His goal was clear: not to rush recklessly towards the exit, but to go against the current, towards the very heart of this chaos.

Because he knew that only there could he truly hope to survive.

"Attention all squads! Target is moving toward the archives in Sector B7! Repeat, target is in Sector B7!"

"Commander Fury! We've lost Dr. Mar-Will's signal!"

"Damn it! Get me on air force alert! I need to know who those bastards in the sky really are!"

Intermittent radio communications, crackling with static, drifted from around the corner not far away. Chu Hang looked in the direction of the sound and saw a familiar figure—Nick Fury, leading Phil Coulson and a team of fully armed agents, rapidly advancing into the depths of the corridor while precisely returning fire.

Fury's perpetually taut face showed no sign of panic, his single eye flashing with icy killing intent. Each time he raised his hand to fire a single shot, he was as calm as if he were training at a shooting range, while clearly issuing a series of instructions. The still-young Coulson stayed close beside him, one hand holding a gun for vigilance, the other adjusting his headset, dutifully playing the role of his second-in-command and bodyguard.

Chu Hang's heart skipped a beat. He remembered clearly that in the movie, the battle between Carol Danvers and the Kree, the energy explosion that changed everything, was ultimately detonated at the B7 archives that housed the light-speed engine.

He didn't follow too closely, but like a true ghost, he maintained a safe distance that allowed him to observe without being detected, quietly hanging behind Fury's team.

This road to hope is not peaceful.

Chu Hang had just rounded a corner piled with clutter when he bumped head-on into a "S.H.I.E.L.D. agent" who was running in a hurry.

"Sorry!" the "agent" blurted out instinctively, while reaching out to support the staggering Chu Hang.

The moment their bodies touched, Chu Hang's body stiffened abruptly.

This person's body temperature was much lower than normal, like a piece of cold jade encasing his skin. The texture of his skin was also strange; through the thin combat suit, it felt like touching cold rubber. More importantly, he didn't have the scent of adrenaline that humans release in large quantities during intense combat. Although Logan's beast-like sense of smell hadn't been replicated, the Super Soldier Serum had greatly enhanced his five senses, making him exceptionally sensitive to these subtle differences.

Chu Hang's eyes instantly turned icy cold. Without any hesitation, he suddenly exerted force in his waist, using the momentum of the impact to fall backward. At the same time, his right hand moved with lightning speed, drawing the pistol from his waist. The dark muzzle was already firmly pointed at the other person's head as he fell.

The "agent's" reaction was astonishingly fast. The moment Chu Hang fell backward, the apologetic expression on his face vanished instantly, replaced by an inhuman ferocity and brutality. His arm twisted and extended at a bizarre angle that defied human anatomy, his five fingers transforming into sharp bone claws, whistling through the air as he viciously clawed at Chu Hang's throat.

They're Skrulls!

Chu Hang understood, but his hands did not stop moving in the slightest.

The gunshots were particularly piercing in the narrow corridor, the echoes making one's eardrums tingle.

The bullet struck the Skrull's disguised forehead precisely, causing it to sway slightly and a small hole oozing green blood appeared on its head, but it did not cause fatal damage.

"Damn it!" Chu Hang cursed under his breath. He had forgotten that the Skrulls were also tough and thick-skinned; the physiological structure of these alien creatures was far more resilient than that of humans.

The Naskrull cried out in pain, letting out a sharp, piercing screech, and its attack became even more ferocious. Chu Hang rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly claws, then suddenly raised his foot and kicked with all his might the fire hydrant box embedded in the wall beside him.

With a crash, the glass shattered, and a red cylindrical object—a fire extinguisher—fell out.

Chu Hang grabbed the heavy fire extinguisher, aimed at the direction from which the Naskrulls were charging again, and pressed the switch without hesitation.

A large amount of white powder gushed out instantly, like a thick fog, covering the faces of the Naskru people.

Caught off guard, the Skrulls' vision and breathing were instantly blocked, and they let out angry and chaotic roars.

Chu Hang threw away the empty fire extinguisher, lunged forward, and taking advantage of the moment when the other man's vision was obstructed and he was flailing his arms wildly, he thrust the barrel of his gun into the man's open mouth with all his might.