Marvel Disassembler

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The name Brock Rumlow wasn't completely unfamiliar to Arthur. However, what stood out more vividly in Arthur's memory was another name he went by— Crossbones! 

This guy wasn't just any ordinary person; he was a well-known supervillain. And now, as the Captain of SHIELD's Rapid Response Team, the irony of the situation was almost laughable.

Compared to Alexander, obtaining information about Brock was significantly easier. In fact, Arthur had only just started talking about him to Natasha when she managed to dig up his file. 

During her investigation of Alexander, Natasha had already come across some details about him. From the records, Brock seemed squeaky clean, leaving Natasha without any solid grounds to investigate further. But for Arthur, things were different.

"If we're going through official channels, there's no reason to investigate him. But I don't plan on using official methods."

The time was around 1:30 AM. A car pulled up by the curb, and a well-built man stepped out. He instinctively scanned his surroundings before walking to the apartment building's entrance. Under the dim night light, he carefully inspected the door, ensuring there were no signs of tampering before unlocking it and stepping inside.

As the Captain of SHIELD's Rapid Response Team, Brock knew his line of work was high-risk. Constant vigilance was a necessity— accidents happen when you let your guard down. For this reason, he'd never started a family. There were too many things in his life that he couldn't share with anyone.

Pushing the door open, Rumlow entered his apartment. The spacious and cold living space was something he'd grown used to over time. Its emptiness provided him with a strange sense of relaxation. He switched on the lights and walked to a small bar in the corner of the living room, tastefully designed with a wall-mounted liquor cabinet.

Once in an environment where he could unwind, Rumlow didn't mind indulging in a drink or two to relax further. Opening the cabinet, he carefully selected a bottle of fine liquor. Just as he was about to close the cabinet, his sharp eyes caught a fleeting shadow reflected in the glass at the back of the cabinet.

His heart tightened. But outwardly, he remained calm. Closing the cabinet door casually, he grabbed a wine glass, flipped it in his hand, opened the bottle, and gently swirled the liquid before pouring himself a drink.

Holding the glass, he began to walk leisurely away from the bar. Meanwhile, his other hand, hidden beneath the counter, quietly drew a handgun. At the end of the bar was a discreet button. Pressing it would instantly send an alert to SHIELD headquarters.

Rumlow had no idea who had infiltrated his apartment, so he prepared for the worst. However, just as he was about to step away from the bar and press the button, a voice came from behind him:

"If I were you, I wouldn't make any unnecessary moves."

His reflexes were instant. His gun shifted slightly, finger ready to press the button. His muscles tensed as he prepared to whirl around and fire at the intruder the moment he activated the alert.

But things didn't go as planned. The button was pressed— nothing happened to stop it. Yet, when he turned around, there was no one there.

The surprise lasted only a moment before a powerful force struck his neck. The strength surged through his body, lifting him entirely off the ground and hurling him across the room.

As he hit the floor, pain coursing through his body, Rumlow forced himself to roll back to his feet, determined to face his attacker.

But once again, there was no one in sight.

Just as he stood, bewildered, a heavy kick landed square on his rear, sending him sprawling forward and face-planting onto the floor in a starfish-like position.

With a wine glass in one hand and a gun in the other, Rumlow stood utterly dazed.

Who is this?

Where are they?

What is even happening to me?

"Nice wine. What a pity," came a voice from the bar.

Rumlow snapped his head up, spotting a figure dressed entirely in black. The man was holding the very bottle of wine Rumlow had picked out, lifting it to his nose for a sniff.

Beside the intruder on the counter sat a jet-black mask, dark as ink.

"It's you… the Instructor?"

As the Captain of SHIELD's Rapid Response Team, Rumlow had access to information most others couldn't dream of. He recognized the figure instantly. At the same time, his heart began to race.

Some secrets must never be revealed!

And those secrets were deeply intertwined with the person standing before him.

Had he come here because he had already uncovered something?

As the thought formed, Rumlow forcibly crushed his panic, standing up from the ground. His gaze was filled with feigned confusion.

"Instructor, even if you're a hero, illegal trespassing isn't excusable!"

Arthur took a swig of the wine, nodding casually. "Not quite on par with Tony's stash, but it's still pretty good."

Fury surged through Rumlow like a tidal wave. "Illegal trespassing! Drinking my wine without permission! And using violence against me! Hero or not, you've crossed the line!"

"Why aren't you running?"

Arthur glanced at Rumlow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Is it because of that little button under the bar? Are you convinced SHIELD headquarters is watching everything that's happening here right now? Too bad for you— I tampered with it long before you got back.

"In fact, I've dismantled most of the little toys you have hidden in this room. Whatever happens tonight stays between us. So, how long are you planning to keep up the act?"

Rumlow's pupils shrank sharply.

The button… it's disabled?

Then why is he here…?

A whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind, his expression shifting erratically between composure and unease.

"Still thinking it over?" Arthur asked with a smile. "If I've come to you, it means I already know your true identity. Hydra, huh? Tough organization to work for. So what's your plan now? Bite down on your poison tooth for a quick death, or fight me to the end?"

"I don't understand what you're talking about," Rumlow said, but a storm raged inside him.

He knows!

This man had become a monumental threat, and previous assassination attempts had failed to silence him.

Now that Arthur had come prepared, what were Rumlow's options? Fight? Flee?

The latter might be feasible; the former was almost certainly doomed to fail.

Once his decision was made, his demeanor steadied, becoming cold and calculating. "Instructor, are you referring to Hydra? That terror organization from the war years? Surely you don't mean to say they're still around?"

Arthur grinned, then vanished in an instant.

Rumlow's gut twisted with alarm. Just as he was about to turn, he felt a hand clamp down on the back of his head.

An overwhelming force lifted his entire body off the ground, slamming him toward the floor with meteoric intensity.

(End of chapter)