Marvel Disassembler

You can read ahead up to 70 chapters on my patreon and I've also activated (date to date) subscription model on my patreon https://www.patreon.com/GGS6395

When Rumlow woke up again, he realized his hands and feet were tightly bound. The device restraining him looked peculiar, with a strange green glow coursing through it— seemingly some kind of liquid, clearly not intended for anything good.

Looking up, he saw Arthur, clad in black, seated at a nearby table. Arthur held a book, reading silently, as if unaware Rumlow had regained consciousness.

Scanning his surroundings, Rumlow couldn't determine where he was. The lighting was dim, the walls pitch black, creating the illusion of endless darkness.

Frowning deeply, Rumlow knew he'd fallen hard this time.

At that moment, Arthur closed the book in his hands and began speaking:

"I know you're not an ordinary person. The first thing you did after waking up was to assess your surroundings. What's next? Thinking about how to escape? Let me save you the trouble. This place is an underwater prison. Without a specific method, no one can get in or out. If you really want to leave, it's not impossible— but the water pressure outside will crush you into paste instantly."

Hearing this, Rumlow's heart sank, but he quickly shook his head.

"If that's true, these restraints on my hands and feet seem a bit redundant."

Arthur chuckled. "You're smart, I'll give you that. These 'toys' on your limbs are a recent invention by a young friend of mine. They're essentially handcuffs but with extra features. For instance, if you try to cut your hand off, the built-in scanner will activate in 0.1 seconds, injecting the green liquid into your body. Don't worry— it's not poison, just a potent anesthetic that will knock you out for about 48 hours. Oh, and I'll also be alerted immediately and come rushing back."

Rumlow frowned. "Is this another one of your jokes, Instructor?"

"No, this one's serious." Arthur stood up. "I know what you're thinking. You're wondering if someone could help you by cutting off your hands from the outside. Oh, and it would have to be both hands simultaneously. Let's not even discuss whether you'd willingly sacrifice your hands. Even if you did, these cuffs are designed to fire 300 anesthetic needles from their inner lining, turning you into a human pincushion. You can see the tiny holes inside, can't you?"

Rumlow's expression darkened. "Even so…"

"Oh, it doesn't stop there," Arthur patted him on the shoulder. "There are more features I won't tell you about. The more you know, the more hopeless you'll feel. To put it simply, unless I allow it, you won't leave this place for the rest of your life. Now, enough chit-chat. Let's get straight to the point. How about we have an open and honest conversation? I'll start with a question to test our level of cooperation."

Rumlow felt like his mind was struggling to keep up. One moment, Arthur was flaunting his gadgets; the next, he was ready to play some kind of mental game.

"How many Hydra agents are hidden within SHIELD?"

Arthur's bluntness wasn't just direct— it was like opening the door on top of a mountain and walking straight in.

"…"

Rumlow's face turned dark. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you!"

"So, that's an admission?" Arthur remarked with a smirk. "Good. At first, I was worried I might've misunderstood you. Now it's clear— you really are Hydra."

"…"

Rumlow's expression grew even darker.

Arthur waved dismissively. "No need to feel regretful or angry at me for tricking you. Let's be honest—without solid evidence and confidence, I wouldn't have gone to the trouble of bringing you here. That question also confirmed that our level of trust is in the negative… but no worries. We've got plenty of time to work on that.

"For now, let's call it a day. Sorry for the shabby accommodations; I hope you'll forgive the lack of hospitality."

With those words, Arthur grabbed Rumlow with one hand and tossed him into the prison cell below.

After carefully thinking through various aspects, Arthur decided to visit Bucky.

Bucky's condition remained less than ideal. Occasionally, he could recall fragments— mere glimpses of images without any deeper context, background, story, or emotions.

At least he now understood that these events truly happened to him, deliberately erased by someone with ulterior motives.

Arthur discussed it with him and suggested letting him out. Previously, Bucky had been confined because he remembered nothing and instinctively gravitated toward Hydra.

Now that there was a shift in his mindset, releasing him seemed like a good idea.

However, Bucky refused.

"My condition is unstable," he explained. "Sometimes my thoughts get muddled, and I've even tried to leave this place without realizing it. I think those are subconscious actions. Until I completely rid myself of these tendencies, I can't leave. Otherwise, I might do something disastrous."

Arthur considered this and decided to let it go. Bucky was right— his current state was too unpredictable.

Unlike the other individuals on Arthur's list, Bucky's brainwashing ran far deeper, achieving a level of comprehensive control. Breaking free entirely would take considerable time.

With that in mind, Arthur sighed. Before leaving, Bucky requested that Arthur bring him some regular drinks like an ordinary person would have. Arthur absentmindedly brushed it off, offering a vague response.

Returning to the upper level, Arthur entered the same room again.

However, his appearance had now shifted to match Rumlow's, and even his attire had changed to Rumlow's style.

Then, he released Victor.

This was an interesting experiment— Arthur wanted to see what would happen.

As it turned out, Victor's reaction was immediate and distinct. Upon seeing "Rumlow," even in his dazed state, Victor panicked.

"Kill me! Quickly, kill me! I can't let them brainwash me, and I definitely can't be interrogated with their drugs. He's too powerful! After you kill me, leave here immediately!"

Arthur blinked, casually saying, "Hand it over."

This line was completely impromptu, a simple test to gauge Victor's reaction and see if he was hiding something or holding onto information Arthur didn't know about.

Unexpectedly, Victor shook his head and replied, "It's not here. I hid it with Zola—"

He suddenly stopped, realizing something was off.

"How did you get here?"

(End of Chapter)