1

Amidst the roar of a motorcycle, Charles Kawalsky was jolted awake by the bumpy ride.

As he opened his eyes, he found himself enveloped in darkness. His body felt as if it was being squeezed in a vise, making it difficult to breathe, much like being packed into a subway car during rush hour.

The foul stench of sweat, the rotten odor of dirty feet, and the fishy smell of something unidentifiable assaulted his lungs as he inhaled. Nausea welled up in his stomach, and a sharp, chest-constricting pain seared through his ribs, causing him to groan involuntarily.

Charles guessed that his ribs might be broken. Judging by the surroundings, he was likely being transported in a military vehicle. Before he could assess the situation further, the vehicle hit a bump, sending everyone inside crashing to the floor. Someone landed heavily on Charles, pressing down on his injured ribs.

The pain from the impact was so intense that his vision went black, and he nearly fainted. A scream lodged in his throat, but all that escaped was a feeble sound, like a fish gasping for air. The noise was drowned out by the vehicle's roaring engine as it barreled through the silent woods.

Unbeknownst to Charles, the convoy consisted of 15 armored vehicles, each carrying a driver and an armed guard. A total of 30 soldiers were positioned in the leading and trailing vehicles, ensuring the security of the transport. Among them was a man named Dr. Abraham Erskine.

Since their last base was compromised by the Allies, they were forced to relocate to continue their serum experiments. Over 200 prisoners, including Charles, were being transported to a secret Hydra base to serve as human guinea pigs for these unethical experiments.

Before them, nearly a thousand "test subjects" had perished in this inhumane research. It was inevitable that Charles and his fellow prisoners would share the same grim fate—becoming another number in the failed experiments, their lives snuffed out and forgotten. The only trace of their existence would be a cold statistic in some abandoned experiment file: the Super Soldier Program, abandoned after countless failed attempts.

A dull thumping sound reached Charles's ears, and he opened his eyes to see two expressionless soldiers standing outside the vehicle, guns in hand. They ordered a group of haggard prisoners to carry the unconscious bodies of their fellow captives out of the vehicle.

The thudding sound Charles heard was the soft human bodies being dumped onto the hard ground. Other prisoners were hauling the unconscious to the holding cells.

Charles quickly assessed the situation. Perhaps due to limited manpower, or maybe to conserve the soldiers' energy, the guards were forcing prisoners who still had some strength to carry their unconscious comrades. This allowed the soldiers to keep their guns trained on the prisoners, maintaining control while saving their energy.

Charles didn't have time to think further. When one of the prisoners tried to lift him, he raised his hand weakly to indicate that he was still conscious. The prisoner, showing no emotion, moved on to the next unconscious body, leaving Charles where he was.

Struggling to his feet, Charles was roughly kicked by a soldier. The guard signaled for him to carry one of the unconscious prisoners. Charles pointed to his ribs, shaking his head to indicate that he was injured and couldn't manage the task.

The soldiers were unsympathetic. One of them slapped Charles across the face, then pointed his gun at Charles's head, making it clear that he had no choice.

Humiliated but powerless, Charles swallowed his pride. He painfully lifted the unconscious prisoner and carried him towards the cell.

The cell, a cramped space of less than ten square meters, was already packed with 15 prisoners. As soon as Charles stepped inside, a soldier kicked him in the back, shoving him into the room before slamming the door shut with disdain.

Charles collapsed onto the floor, his strength completely spent. Hunger and the pain from his ribs overwhelmed him, leaving him motionless on the ground like a dead dog.

Time passed—maybe a minute, maybe more—before Charles was jolted awake by the sound of banging on the cell door. A soldier's voice barked, "Pigs, get up and eat!"

Looking up, Charles saw a brownish-yellow, sticky substance being pushed through a gap in the cell door, landing directly on the dirty floor.

The other prisoners, gaunt and hollow-eyed, barely reacted. They simply stared at the pile of food with a dull, lifeless gaze. They had been here long enough to know that the future held nothing but death. They would rather starve than face the brutal experiments that awaited them.

Charles, however, didn't know this. His body was no longer under his brain's control. Driven by hunger, he crawled desperately towards the food, shoving it into his mouth with frantic urgency.

He glared fiercely at the others, a warning that he would fight anyone who tried to take his food. His eyes were wild, like a cornered animal ready to attack.

The food was nothing more than leftover swill, mostly water drained and mixed with sugar to mask the rancid taste. But Charles didn't care. He kept shoveling it into his mouth, his stomach swelling as if it would burst.

Finally, one of the prisoners couldn't stand it any longer. He grabbed Charles by the feet and dragged him back, with the help of others who pinned him down to prevent him from overfeeding himself to death. Then, one of them delivered a calculated blow to the back of Charles's head, knocking him unconscious. The precision of the strike suggested that this person was no ordinary civilian before being captured.

Meanwhile, deep within the base, an officer with strong features and slicked-back blond hair was having a tense conversation with a professor of gentle demeanor, who wore glasses and had curly hair.

The officer was John Schmidt, the top commander of the base. Young and handsome, Schmidt's pure Aryan bloodline gave him an air of superiority, one he was all too eager to flaunt.

The bespectacled man was none other than Dr. Abraham Erskine, and their conversation was far from harmonious.

John Schmidt's voice was calm but carried a condescending tone as he said, "Doctor, the Allies' discovery of our last base was unfortunate. Though this facility has been rarely used, we can't guarantee its safety indefinitely. The Führer expects you to expedite your research on the serum. We didn't have time to secure the test subjects last time, but this base has provided you with sufficient resources. We strongly support your work. The Empire expects you to reduce the sacrifice of our finest soldiers."

Dr. Erskine, looking concerned, replied, "The serum is too unstable. None of the test subjects have survived the process. I believe we should consider altering the formula to make it less volatile. This might increase the chances of success."

"Less volatile means less effective," Schmidt responded, irritation creeping into his voice. "Even if it succeeds, it will only produce soldiers slightly above average. The Empire didn't invest in this project to create men with slightly better physiques. We need an ultimate weapon—soldiers who surpass human limits. We need supermen who can turn the tide of war."

Schmidt's tone turned stern as he continued, "We have more than enough test subjects. If you run out, we'll get you more. Don't disappoint the Führer and the Empire." With that, Schmidt turned on his heel and left the room.

Dr. Erskine watched Schmidt leave, his fists clenching unconsciously. A look of inner conflict crossed his face as he remembered what an Allied spy had said to him at their last base: "Doctor, the Allies are fighting for justice and peace. Are you willing to let your talents be used by these extremists to harm humanity?" Erskine lowered his hands and murmured, "Justice?"

------------

Charles Kawalsky was abruptly awakened by the urgent need to relieve himself. The pressure was so overwhelming that it momentarily distracted him from the dull ache in his ribs and the bloated feeling in his stomach.

Looking around, he noticed there was no obvious restroom in sight. He turned to the person nearby and asked where the toilet was.

Without even glancing at Charles, the person pointed towards a corner of the cell.

Charles quickly went there to take care of his urgent need and then began to assess his situation.

Since waking up yesterday, he had been in a state of extreme weakness and hadn't had the chance to fully process what was happening. Now that his mind was clearer, a sense of calm settled over him.

First, he remembered that he had been working overtime the night before last, but when he woke up yesterday, he found himself in the back of a military transport. Noticing the blonde hair and blue eyes of the soldier guarding the door, along with the Third Reich insignia on his uniform, Charles was utterly confused.

He tried to piece together the fragments of his memory, attempting to recall any detail that might explain what had happened that night.

As he thought harder, a sharp pain shot through his head, and a flood of fragmented memories began to surface.

After some time, Charles finally understood his predicament.

"I've transmigrated…into the Marvel Universe?"

Charles frowned, realizing he was in deep trouble.

The body he now inhabited belonged to a young Polish man with Jewish ancestry, captured during the Nazi invasion of Poland and subsequently taken by Hydra.

Hydra—an all-too-familiar name from Marvel movies—left no doubt in Charles's mind: this was indeed the Marvel Universe.

A cold shiver ran down Charles's spine. He had been captured by Hydra and was being transported to one of their secret bases. This could only mean one thing: he was about to become a human experiment subject.

Delving deeper into the memories of this body, Charles discovered they were incomplete, with only a few vague experiences and not even a name to go by. But that didn't matter anymore. From now on, he would be known as Charles Kawalsky.

What mattered now was what would happen next. Based on his knowledge from the movies, the experiment that awaited him was likely Hydra's attempt at human enhancement.

It was either dissection for medical research or some horrific transformation into a mindless soldier. Even if by some miracle he survived, he would be brainwashed and turned into a Hydra pawn.

According to the body's memories, the year was 1938. At this time, Hydra was still led by Johann Schmidt, who had not yet transformed into the Red Skull. Therefore, the experiment being conducted was most likely the Super Soldier Serum test.

This experiment was notorious for its fatality rate. In the entire Marvel franchise, only Captain America had succeeded, and even the Red Skull was an incomplete result. The countless others were mere failures mentioned briefly in the films.

Watching the movies, Charles had never paid much attention to the term "countless failures," but now, standing on the brink of becoming another statistic, he fully grasped the horror behind those words.

Even if he somehow escaped, the future held other perils, like Thanos, who aimed to "balance" the universe. And even if he was eventually saved by Iron Man or the Avengers, there was no guarantee it would be the same universe—he might be lost in an alternate timeline.

Faced with the grim reality of his situation, Charles felt an overwhelming sense of despair. He even began to miss his mundane life back in his original world.

Murphy's Law proved true: the more you fear something, the more likely it is to happen.

A day later, Charles and the others in the cell were escorted to a laboratory.

The lab was a cylindrical, two-story structure. Charles and the others were led to the first floor, where they could see through a massive transparent glass window above them. Behind the glass, several scientists in white lab coats looked down at them with cold detachment, as if they were nothing more than lab rats.

Charles instantly recognized the two men in charge. The handsome, blond man in the officer's uniform was clearly Johann Schmidt, and the bespectacled man with a gentle demeanor was Dr. Abraham Erskine. Behind them, a team of researchers busily communicated with the white-coated scientists on the ground floor.

Suddenly, chaos erupted. A prisoner who had previously knocked Charles out in the cell made a desperate attempt to escape. He tackled a guard and rushed towards one of the scientists, trying to take him hostage.

But before he could reach his target, another guard shot him down. The prisoner's blood splattered onto Charles's face, leaving him frozen in shock. The gruesome scene paralyzed him with fear; he didn't dare to move a muscle, afraid that any action might result in the same fate.

Charles had seen plenty of gunfights in movies, and while he knew that they could be intense, nothing could have prepared him for the brutal reality of it. The man was shot in the shoulder, but the impact blew away half of his chest, painting the wall behind him in blood. His limbs twitched slightly, but there was no getting up—only half of his body remained in this world.

A surge of anger welled up inside Charles. He was enraged at how easily a life could be snuffed out, at the cruelty and ruthlessness of these people, at the pointless devastation of war, and at his own powerlessness in the face of it all. He felt fury at his current weakness, unable to do anything but watch.

With a cold, expressionless face, Charles looked at the soldier who had fired the shot, then walked towards the test bench in the center of the first floor.

The incident seemed to be just a minor inconvenience to the stern officer observing from above. Within ten minutes, cleaning staff arrived to sanitize the area, and the experiment resumed.

Several researchers strapped Charles tightly onto the test platform. The restraints were so tight that they cut off circulation to his limbs and made it difficult to breathe. The pain in his already injured ribs intensified.

The doctor overseeing the experiment ordered the serum injection to begin. Ten seconds after the injection, Charles's senses became hyper-aware. He could hear the breathing of the scientists behind their masks, and the pain in his ribs became excruciating. He clenched his fists and arched his back in agony. Around him, the other test subjects let out blood-curdling screams, filling the lab with a chorus of pain.

Gradually, the screams faded as Charles began to lose his senses. The once-clear sounds of breathing grew distant, and the pain in his ribs dulled, as if he were drifting away from the world.

Charles knew that he and the others were slowly dying.

He tried to comfort himself, convincing himself that this was just a dream. Any moment now, he would wake up and find himself back in his old life, overworked and exhausted. He'd see a doctor for his neurosis and laugh about this nightmare later. When he woke up, everything would be back to normal…

Charles's heartbeat slowed, and his thoughts faded away, but a faint smile lingered on his lips, as if he truly believed it was all just a dream.

The others in the room were accustomed to such outcomes. They calmly marked down the results and prepared for the next experiment. Here, human life was just a number; they had long since lost any reverence for it.

At that moment, a voice echoed in Charles's mind: "The system has detected that the transmigrator is about to lose vital signs. Based on the transmigrator's current condition, a gift pack will be issued."

"You are awarded the title of 'The Strongest Rat.' This title ensures that when the transmigrator becomes a test subject, no matter how low the success rate, the transmigrator will achieve the best possible results."

"You are awarded the title of 'My Will is Eternal.' This title makes the transmigrator immune to any external manipulation. You will possess an unbreakable will and follow your own path."

"You receive a system panel that allows you to check your attributes. You also gain access to a portable space, with dimensions of 10mx10mx10m (capacity cannot be increased, but can hold any items)."

"The gift pack has been distributed. The titles have been automatically equipped, and their effects are now active. Enjoy your enhanced experience. Bye"

Charles's heart, which had stopped, began beating again. His frail body started to change. First, his bones expanded, supporting his muscles as they solidified. Fat rapidly burned away, providing the energy needed for his transformation. These changes were visible to the naked eye, and the researchers present erupted in excitement. Even Johann Schmidt, who had been expressionless up until now, leaned forward, issuing orders for the soldiers to prepare tranquilizer rounds in case of an emergency.

Charles, now untied on the platform, suddenly opened his eyes. With a swift motion, he tore off the restraints that had bound him, then stood up, breaking free from all the restraints. He looked down at himself in disbelief, unable to fathom the strength his body now possessed.

He checked his attributes:

Name: Charles Kawalsky

Race: Human (Serum Enhanced)

Intelligence: 2 (You have average intelligence)

Strength: 2 → 4 (You now possess strength beyond ordinary humans, capable of lifting objects weighing 3.5 tons)

Speed: 2 → 3 (You can now run at speeds up to 60 kilometers per hour)

Endurance: 2 → 3 (You can now maintain high physical exertion for up to 2 hours)

Combat Skills: 1→1 (You are not skilled in combat, relying solely on physical abilities)

As we all know, Marvel's website has an ability reference table with six attributes: intelligence, strength, speed, endurance, energy emission, and combat skills. Each attribute is divided into levels from 1 to 7, with level 1 being the weakest and level 7 being the strongest. However, each level has a fluctuation value, resulting in a significant gap between the strength and weakness of each level.

For example, Captain America's intelligence is rated at 3, meaning he is a knowledgeable person, and his strength level is rated at 4. But the maximum weight he can lift is 1 ton. In comparison, Charles Kawalsky's strength, at the same level, allows him to lift 3.5 tons. This means Charles' strength far surpasses Captain America's, despite being classified within the same category.

This may be due to fact that Steve was a ill weak boy , while the Prisoners chosen for Hydra's experiment were with top physique .

However, while Captain America's combat skills are rated at 6, making him a master of various fighting techniques and a seasoned battlefield strategist, Charles' combat skills remain at level 1, indicating that he is a novice with no formal training. His raw physical power might be impressive, but without the necessary combat experience, he is still far from being on par with seasoned fighters like Captain America.

Seeing these attributes, Charles realized the extent of the transformation his body had undergone. The serum had granted him extraordinary physical abilities, but he knew that these alone wouldn't be enough to survive in this perilous world. He needed to hone his skills, learn to fight, and perhaps most importantly, keep a low profile until he was strong enough to take on the threats that loomed over him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the commotion around him. The researchers and soldiers were in a frenzy, unable to believe the results of the experiment. John Schmidt, the future Red Skull, seemed particularly intrigued. He issued orders rapidly, preparing for whatever might happen next. Charles could see the soldiers arming themselves, ready to subdue him if he became uncontrollable.

However, at this time, he did not dare to try to use his body to block bullets, but he thought that John Schmidt would never bear to see him killed by a bullet.

He was not familiar with the base and had no chance of escaping from the base, but he hated these soldiers deeply. He mercilessly stepped forward and broke the spine of a soldier. When he did this, it was more difficult for him than to escape from the base. It is easier for a strong man to break a chopstick.

John Schmidt was so excited that he forgot all about it. His face was red with excitement. The stronger Charles was, the more excited he became, which meant that the strengthening effect of the serum It's amazing, and it also means that he will also gain such a powerful physique.

He quickly asked the doctor to start recording the batch results of this serum composition, and strictly demanded that his subordinates must not kill him. Now Charles is the key to him becoming a super human, and he must not let anything happen to Charles easily.

The subordinates below received such an order and had no choice but to execute it. They replaced the ammunition in the cavity with tranquilizer bombs and prepared to capture charles. However, charles ignored him and grabbed a soldier's head and knocked it against the wall, instantly staining the concrete wall. Turning black and red, he immediately rushed towards the soldier who had anesthetized him, grabbed his helmet with both hands and pushed inward, causing the soldier's brain to burst inside the helmet.

His body swayed as the tranquilizers took effect. Despite his newfound strength, the sheer volume of anesthetic pumped into his system was overwhelming. His vision blurred, and his muscles, once brimming with power, began to feel heavy and unresponsive. He fought to stay conscious, his anger fueling his resistance, but his body was betraying him.

As he staggered, he could hear the commotion around him. The soldiers were shouting, rushing to restrain him before he could do more damage. John Schmidt, however, remained in the background, his eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of triumph. To Schmidt, this was proof of the serum's incredible power. He was more determined than ever to harness it for himself.

He knew he was losing the battle against the sedatives. His mind raced as he tried to formulate a plan, but the fog in his brain made it difficult to think clearly. The last thing he saw before everything went dark was the cold, calculating gaze of John Schmidt, watching him with a mixture of fascination and greed.

When he finally lost consciousness, the soldiers quickly moved in, securing him with reinforced restraints. They were cautious, knowing full well the kind of strength he had displayed. Schmidt ordered them to transport him to a secure location within the base, where further tests could be conducted without interruption.

As he was dragged away, Schmidt couldn't help but smile. The serum's potential was beyond anything he had imagined. But he also knew that he was more than just a test subject now—he was a living, breathing embodiment of what Schmidt aspired to become. The serum had worked its wonders on Charles, and soon it would do the same for him.

For Charles, this was just the beginning of his ordeal. He had been transformed into something powerful, but he was now at the mercy of Hydra, an organization that would stop at nothing to exploit his newfound abilities. His struggle for survival would continue, but it would take all his cunning, strength, and willpower to escape the clutches of those who sought to control him.

-----------------

The anesthetized Charles Kawalsky was quickly restrained by the soldiers who rushed in. John Schmidt and Dr. Abraham Erskine impatiently descended from the high platform and approached Charles, who was now tied up again. John Schmidt ordered, "Secure him, draw a tube of his blood immediately, and send it to the lab for the doctor."

The soldier quickly complied, attempting to draw blood from Charles. However, no matter how hard he tried, the needle could not penetrate his skin; it was as tough as cowhide.

Seeing this, John Schmidt pulled out his pistol and shot Charles in the arm. This successfully drew blood, and he ordered the soldiers to collect it all without wasting a drop.

However, even the bullet wound didn't bleed much. Within 30 seconds, the blood vessels began to heal. After withdrawing only two vials of blood, no more fresh blood emerged. John Schmidt reached into the wound, extracting the bullet embedded in the muscle. As he watched the wound heal significantly faster once the bullet was removed, his eyes gleamed with excitement. He then ordered the injection of a muscle relaxant into Charles's wound.

Ten minutes later, Charles began to wake up slowly. As soon as he regained consciousness, he started struggling desperately, but due to the continuous injection of muscle relaxants, he was too weak to break free.

At this moment, John Schmidt approached Charles, looking at him as if he were a masterpiece, and said, "Your physical fitness is truly astonishing. The dose of anesthetic we gave you was enough to knock out a elephants for an entire day, yet you woke up in less than 10 minutes. You even managed to crush a soldier's skull and helmet with ease. Such power is enough to fascinate anyone. You will be the stepping stone for me to become a superhuman. But it's a pity this serum doesn't enhance intelligence. Otherwise, you could have pretended to be dead after the experiment and fought back when they discarded you. But now? With this serum, you're just a very strong beast, destined to be tamed by my whip."

Although Charles remained unmoved internally, he put on a hysterical display, constantly trying to twist his body and roaring in defiance.

Seeing this, John Schmidt frowned. He began to wonder if the serum had burned out Charles's brain, as he behaved no differently from a beast. But then he thought, even if he's a beast, Hydra can tame him into an obedient one. He ordered, "Take him to be brainwashed and make him my most loyal slave."

Then he headed towards the laboratory where Dr. Erskine was. He was eager to know the results of Charles's blood test.

In the laboratory, Dr. Erskine examined the blood report. Charles had indeed succeeded. His metabolism and cell regeneration abilities were now beyond ordinary human levels. However, no extraordinary cells or antibodies could explain why this experiment succeeded. As John Schmidt entered, he too, being a scientific expert, shared Dr. Erskine's doubts.

Nevertheless, despite their doubts, John Schmidt was confident. He believed that the success of Charles indicated that the serum was more than halfway successful, and its effects were excellent. Even if only Charles survived, it could not be denied that the experiment was a success. As long as Charles was successfully brainwashed and used for long-term experiments, complete success was within reach.

At this time, Hydra's brainwashing methods involved continuous stimulation through images and sounds, repeating certain keywords, and applying electric shocks to the brainwashed individual. As the brainwashed person struggled, the voice played, "Surrender... you will find meaning. Surrender... you will be liberated. Breathe deeply and calm down. You know what's best. If you obey us, it's for the best. If you obey us, you will be rewarded. Are you ready to obey us?"

The brainwashed individual had to respond with, "Resistance will be punished." Otherwise, they would be shocked. This physical pain and mental torture would continue until the person lost their will and became a mechanical existence.

At this point, the brainwasher would only need to say the keyword "obey, and obedience will..."

The brainwashed individual would then respond subconsciously, "If you obey, you will be rewarded."

The brainwasher could then issue commands to the brainwashed individual. This brainwashing method was simple, crude, and effective, but its success varied from person to person. Some could resist for a long time, others for a certain period, and some, like the Winter Soldier, could even resist and break free temporarily.

Charles was now deeply embarrassed. He had endured such torture before. The physical pain was bearable, but being bombarded with repeated phrases while staring at the images left him mentally exhausted. Due to his ability "My Will Eternal," Charles could not be fully brainwashed, so he had to endure the torture.

Fortunately, Charles had a plan. After being shocked hundreds of times, he began to pretend he had been successfully brainwashed. Given that he had previously acted no smarter than a beast in front of John Schmidt, Schmidt believed the ruse. After two days of brainwashing, Schmidt brought Charles in front of him to begin testing.

In the training ground inside Hydra's secret base, Charles stared ahead expressionlessly. Schmidt stood on the second floor and gave an instruction: "Squat down."

Charles showed no reaction. Schmidt wasn't surprised and said again to those downstairs, "Obey, obey and you will..."

Charles immediately looked up towards the source of the sound. Seeing Schmidt hiding behind the tempered glass upstairs, he seemed frightened and curled up slightly, a stress reaction, then said, "Obey, and obedience will be rewarded."

"Good boy, squat down," Schmidt grinned, proud.

Charles immediately squatted down. Schmidt then issued a few more commands, all of which Charles executed perfectly. Schmidt couldn't help but feel proud. He had tamed a beast more terrifying than a mammoth, a human monster that was seriously like a god among ordinary people. How could he not be pleased?

"From now on, your name will be Number Zero. I will be your only loyal master. You are my loyal servant, and you will willingly dedicate everything to the great cause of Hydra. Every action you take must serve Hydra's interests, and you will follow my instructions without question. You do not need your own will; my words are your only guideline. You must devote yourself entirely to Hydra's great spirit. Remember, obey me, and you will be rewarded for your obedience."

"I am... I am Zero, and you will be rewarded if you obey," Charles murmured to himself.

"From now on, Zero will undergo regular brainwashing and receive combat and firearms training. I will make him the most powerful humanoid weapon," Schmidt ordered, then walked deeper into the base without looking back.

Charles remained in the large training ground. Less than a minute later, a tall, sturdy man was brought in, escorted by several medical staff in white coats and several fully armed soldiers. The medical staff first injected Charles with a muscle relaxant, putting him in a weakened state, and then untied the man's restraints. One of the escorts said, "If you defeat this man, you won't have to be used for live experiments today."

He then said to Charles, "The leader said you should learn Sambo fighting skills from this man," and untied the man's chains, stepping aside cautiously.

The Russian man, also tall, cautiously approached Charles. He quickly punched Charles in the nose from less than a meter away. Although Charles had been injected with a muscle relaxant, the serum not only improved his physical fitness but also his reaction speed and dynamic vision. Although the Russian man was fast, he couldn't escape Charles's sight. Charles dodged the punch and struck back. But the man quickly transformed his punch into a palm strike, blocking Charles's right fist with his left hand. He used his left hand to push forward and hooked his right hand toward the back of Charles's head while raising his knee to strike Charles's abdomen. This set of movements was smooth and precise. Although Charles could react, he didn't know how to counter it at the moment, so he took the hit.

Despite the muscle relaxant, Charles's resistance to pain was incredible. If this knee strike had hit an ordinary man, it would have incapacitated him, but Charles felt only slight discomfort.

The Russian man was surprised. Based on the punch he received from Charles, he understood that while Charles was stronger, it was still within a comprehensible range. However, his ability to withstand blows was beyond anything he had encountered. Even the brown bears from his homeland couldn't take hits like this.

What he didn't know was that Charles was in a weakened state. Otherwise, the fight would have ended with a single punch. Despite this, Charles relied on his extraordinary resilience.

Charles discovered that his learning ability was now astonishingly fast. Within ten minutes, he could judge the Russian man's attack methods and consciously learn them. No wonder Captain America, once a weakling who couldn't fight, became a master with combat skills up to level 7 (proficient in various fighting techniques) later on. With his current physique after the serum injection, Charles could learn any fighting skill in the world in a day.

After fighting the Russian man for half an hour, the man was exhausted, while Charles only became more energetic. The muscle relaxant in his body had been metabolized 10 minutes ago, but the Russian man was still able to fight back because Charles had learned to control his muscles, allowing himself to fight at a level comparable to the Russian man.

During the half-hour battle, Charles gained a good understanding of Sambo fighting skills and entered the realm of mastery. After another three minutes, Charles successfully used Sambo techniques to defeat the Russian man. For someone who had never been exposed to fighting skills before, such progress could already be described as miraculous. At this moment, Charles realized how terrifying the transformation the serum had brought him was.

--

A month had passed in the blink of an eye. During this time, Charles Kawalsky had mastered various combat techniques, including firearms, Sambo, Brazilian capoeira, and close-quarter boxing, through continuous training. His abilities had improved significantly, and he was advancing steadily. While enduring Hydra's daily brainwashing, Charles observed his progress through the data panel:

Name: Charles Kawalsky

Race: Human (Serum-enhanced)

Intelligence: 2 (You're not known for your intellect)

Strength: 4 (Your body has reached the serum-enhanced limit and can lift objects weighing up to 4 tons)

Speed: 3 (You can run at high speeds up to 65 km/h, and sprint at full speed up to 90 km/h)

Endurance: 3 (You can maintain high-speed running for up to 2 hours)

Combat Skills: 1 → 6 (You were inexperienced before, but now you've mastered various fighting techniques)

"No. 1, show me your progress and suppress your strength to that of an ordinary person," came the voice of John Schmidt from the doorway of the training ground. Schmidt had been keeping a close eye on Charles's training progress, particularly noting his ability to control his own strength. This was, of course, something Charles had intended to demonstrate. Schmidt was a cunning man, and he wasn't quick to trust anyone. With someone like him, especially when he's smarter than you, lying would only arouse suspicion.

Consciously, Charles followed Schmidt's orders, intending to make Schmidt believe that he was nothing more than a powerful but tamed beast. A wise man takes pride in taming wild things, and Schmidt would be no exception. He wouldn't bother guarding against something he believed was under his control—he would simply see Charles as a useful tool. Today, however, Schmidt was about to put Charles to the final test.

"Attack me, No. 1," Schmidt ordered, his expression playful. "Use the strength of an ordinary person and show me your newest techniques."

---

"Attack me, Number Zero. Use the strength of an ordinary person and show me your latest moves," Johann Schmidt commanded Charles Kawalsky with a smug smile.

To be honest, even if Charles suppressed his strength, the super-fast reflexes brought by the serum would allow him to dodge bullets effortlessly. As for Johann Schmidt, Charles didn't underestimate him; although Schmidt was also a skilled fighter, his speed was no match for Charles. In combat, speed, precision, and ruthlessness are key. Schmidt had already lost by lacking the speed. How could he hope to defeat Charles?

Ignoring the warning, Schmidt swung a punch at Charles' nose. Charles didn't flinch. Schmidt, now frustrated, rubbed his fist and ordered again, "Obey my command, Number Zero, and attack me."

Charles muttered, "If I follow orders, there will be a reward." Without hesitation, he launched an attack, driving a straight punch toward Schmidt's nose. Schmidt countered by spinning and sweeping his legs low, attempting to take down Charles. But Charles anticipated the move, slightly bending his left leg to block the sweep with his calf, while his right hand formed a fist to grab Schmidt, who was now lying on his back. Schmidt tried to use a grappling technique, grabbing Charles' right hand and attempting to throw him with a shoulder lock. However, Charles' reflexes were too quick. Seeing Schmidt's intent, Charles extended his left hand to hold down Schmidt's right leg before he could kick out. With a powerful push, Charles used his waist and hips to somersault, forcing Schmidt's right leg to the left, and struck toward Schmidt's temple.

If the strike had landed, Schmidt would surely be dead. But Schmidt had come to test Charles, not to die. In the blink of an eye, Schmidt shouted, "Stop, Number Zero."

Charles stopped his fist just a centimeter from Schmidt's temple. He knew that killing Schmidt was not his objective. His primary goal was to use Hydra to gain a deeper understanding of this world and build a good relationship with Dr. Abraham Erskine.

This relationship was crucial for Charles' long-term plans. As the leading geneticist of the time, Erskine could help Charles further enhance his physical abilities, ensuring his survival in this dangerous world. Moreover, Erskine played a significant role in the creation of Captain America. By gaining Erskine's favor, Charles hoped to establish a rapport with Captain America and Allied forces, which would be advantageous for his future endeavors.

Back to the present, after Charles ceased his attack, Schmidt quickly drew a dagger and stabbed Charles in the shoulder. Charles remained motionless, like a lifeless machine. Schmidt was relieved; now Charles truly belonged to him, obeying orders even at the cost of his life. Satisfied with the brainwashing's effectiveness, Schmidt decided to assign Charles a secret mission.

"Number Zero, I order you to carry out a mission. You must follow my instructions."

...

In June 1938, Hydra's base was located in Africa, less than six kilometers away from Wakanda.

A little over a month ago, Bakuto, Africa's largest arms dealer, acquired a special metal. This metal possessed indestructible hardness and barely conducted heat or kinetic energy. Because of these properties, the metal was named impact-absorbing metal. Its unique characteristics drove everyone mad. If used in weapons manufacturing, it could change the global power structure. However, according to this arms dealer, he had only one piece of this metal, which he had stumbled upon in the remote country of Wakanda. The locals were unaware of the treasure trove they possessed. With a substantial amount of this metal, one could dominate the entire world without needing to engage in conflict with the natives.

After learning of this discovery, various armed forces scoured Wakanda and the surrounding regions but failed to find another piece of vibranium. Some savvy individuals questioned the locals about the location of the mineral veins.

Of course, the intimidating presence of these outsiders terrified the locals. Only a few elderly men, pitiful and fearful, spoke to the young leaders, pleading, "Please, sir, don't shoot. We don't have anything of value." They even presented rusty axes and kitchen knives, claiming, "This is the most valuable metal in our village."

The leaders, skeptical of the locals' claims, wondered if these tools were even capable of chopping vegetables, let alone being valuable metal. Ultimately, their efforts were fruitless.

The armed forces in Africa lacked the resources to compete with this arms dealer, so they resorted to other methods to discover the source of the vibranium. However, the arms dealer, a cunning figure, welcomed all bribes—gold, silver, jewelry, luxury cars—with a charming smile, but revealed nothing. "Your generosity has won my friendship," he would say, offering African specialties like African fruits and lungfish as tokens of appreciation. These were meant to represent the precious friendship between the parties. Assassination attempts were made, but the elite killers sent after him were found hung outside his manor the following day.

Faced with this situation, Johann Schmidt decided to send Charles Kawalsky, his ace operative, to kidnap Bakuto and force him to reveal the vibranium's location.

After learning this information, Charles was certain that the so-called "force-absorbing metal" was vibranium. The reason why no one had found Wakanda's vibranium was simple—the technological gap between Wakanda and the rest of the world was enormous. Wakanda's technology was centuries ahead of other civilizations, and the impoverished villages surrounding it were merely a disguise. Wakanda had no interest in revealing its true strength or engaging in conflicts with other civilizations.

That night, Charles and an elite team prepared to infiltrate Bakuto 's manor. In the open space 100 meters from the manor, Charles separated from his team. The operation plan hinged on Charles' success. The others were essentially cannon fodder. The plan required Charles to sneak into the manor and reach the inner courtyard within two minutes. At that point, the rest of the team would trigger an alarm outside, drawing the guards away from the inner courtyard.

According to Hydra's intelligence, Bakuto might seem like Africa's largest arms dealer, but in reality, he was backed by a massive international criminal organization. This organization included Japanese ninjas and elusive fighting masters, with three special operatives assigned to protect Boca. One was an elderly black man who could turn invisible and focus his energy, blending into the environment like a snake. Another was a burly white man with indestructible skin, capable of withstanding close-range shots from a 9mm pistol—Boca's strongest human shield. The third was a petite Japanese woman with deadly accuracy, skilled with throwing knives and long whips. These three were suspected members of the Hand, tasked with guarding Boca. To capture Boca, Charles would need to eliminate these three first.

That night, Charles reached the perimeter of Bakuto's manor. According to Hydra's information, a patrol passed by the manor every five minutes. It was now 5:21, and the last patrol had just passed. This was the designated time for Charles to infiltrate. He had to reach the inner courtyard within five minutes; otherwise, the distraction caused by his teammates outside would be noticed. The manor was surrounded by a 12-foot wall topped with a high-voltage power grid. For most people, this would be an insurmountable barrier, but for Charles, it was nothing. With a running start, he leaped over the wall with ease. His specially made combat uniform was coated with a black paint that absorbed over 83% of visible light, enhancing his stealth during night operations. His combat boots were designed to minimize noise, preventing detection upon landing.

Once inside, Charles quickly identified the locations of two hidden guards within ten meters. He threw a dart toward a shrub concealing one of the guards. The guard was alert and about to signal when Charles leaped, grabbing a branch and pulling himself up to the treetop. With swift precision, he snapped the neck of the other guard. The entire encounter lasted less than three seconds, too fast for anyone to react.

Charles secured the body in the tree, tying it to the trunk. If everything went as planned, the bodies wouldn't be discovered for another 15 minutes. The hidden guards were stationed in fixed positions, communicating every 15 minutes with specific whistle signals to ensure safety. If one guard noticed something amiss, he would use a particular signal to check on his partner. But Charles had moved too swiftly and stealthily for the guard to react.

After dealing with these two sentries, Charles descended from the tree and proceeded toward the inner courtyard.

Relying on his extraordinary physical abilities, Charles silently dispatched over a dozen more guards along the way. He reached the inner courtyard with more than ten seconds to spare before the agreed-upon two-minute mark. Charles waited patiently, ready to infiltrate the inner courtyard as soon as the guards were distracted by his teammates' commotion outside.

Suddenly, Charles sensed something and turned around. Emerging from the darkness was an old man who slowly appeared, his presence commanding. "You are skilled, but you will pay for trespassing without the master's consent," the old man warned.

-------

"Your skills are impressive. You're clearly on a different level than the previous intruders. You must also be here for the vibranium," the old man said, emerging slowly from the shadows.

The old man's name was Mauro Niyazi. Intelligence indicated that he was one of Bakuto 's bodyguards, known for his exceptional stealth abilities and his role as Boka's silent assassin. Mauro had carried out many assassinations for Bakuto, making him a significant threat in this operation. Charles Kawalsky knew his own stealth skills were no match for Mauro's.

"Of course, his stealth abilities and natural talents make him thrive in the dark," Charles thought to himself.

Despite his frustration, Charles didn't hesitate. His feet dug into the ground, and he launched himself at Mauro like an arrow shot from a bow.

Mauro, though startled, shifted sideways like a phantom, appearing at Charles' right side. As if by magic, a dagger materialized in Mauro's hand, swiftly slashing towards Charles' joints.

Mauro knew human anatomy well and how to disable an opponent with minimal effort. Most of the earlier intruders had been eliminated by the patrols and sentries in the outer courtyard. It was rare for someone to reach the inner courtyard, and Mauro found himself intrigued by Charles' apparent skill. He planned to toy with his prey before delivering the final blow.

However, even a cautious assassin like Mauro didn't underestimate his opponent. He gave this strike his all—fast, precise, and without a hint of contempt.

Yet, Mauro had still underestimated Charles.

The serum Charles had been given enhanced him in every way. His speed and strength were formidable, but his physical defense was equally impressive.

Mauro's dagger, which could have severed the arm of any ordinary human, barely penetrated Charles' skin. It only sank about five millimeters before it stopped dead.

Realizing his mistake, Mauro tried to retreat, but the brief delay had already sealed his fate.

Charles moved with lightning speed, grabbing Mauro's right wrist with his left hand. With a powerful right hook, he smashed Mauro's head. The force of the blow caused Mauro's skull to shatter.

In a fight to the death, when your opponent is faster, stronger, and tougher than you, engaging in close combat is a fatal mistake. If Mauro could do it all over again, he would have kept his distance from Charles and called for backup instead of attacking directly.

The agreed-upon two minutes had passed, and the team outside began their assault, drawing most of the enemy's attention. Without Mauro's command, the security teams were disorganized. They hesitated, confused by the calls for support, and many rushed to the front yard, leaving only a small force in the inner courtyard to protect Bakuto.

Charles quickly entered the inner courtyard. He knew there were still armed guards and a monitoring center that kept watch over most of the open areas. His first objective was to neutralize or evade the personnel there.

According to intelligence, the inner courtyard housed 32 security personnel, many of whom were retired special forces soldiers.

Charles approached the security room like a lion stalking its prey. Two security personnel and a patrol team were stationed inside. Each night, five patrol teams of five men each rotated through the inner courtyard, with teams resting in the security room between shifts. It was now 21:07, leaving about 20 minutes until the next shift change.

Charles closed his pocket watch and sprang into action. He approached the security room and, without hesitation, burst through the door.

Inside were five men—the just-relieved patrol team. Two more were in the monitoring room. Charles swiftly threw a dart at the farthest guard, killing him instantly. He then lunged at the nearest man, gripping his neck with an iron-like hand and snapping it with ease.

He delivered a crushing blow to the temple of the third guard, killing him in an instant.

From the moment he entered the room to the moment he dispatched the three guards, only two seconds had passed. The remaining two guards had just stood up, reaching for their pistols.

If they managed to fire, they would alert the entire compound. But Charles, calm and focused, moved with the speed of a cheetah, closing the distance in the blink of an eye.

Just as the two guards' fingers brushed the triggers, Charles drew his sword—a custom-made weapon gifted by John Schmidt. The alloy blade was 80 centimeters long, 8 centimeters wide at its broadest point, and the entire weapon weighed 40 kilograms. To Charles, it felt light as a feather.

With a single, fluid motion, Charles swung the sword. The guards saw only a flash of steel before their hands were severed at the wrists. Pain surged through them, but before they could scream, Charles struck their throats with his fingers, crushing their windpipes. Their heads slumped forward, lifeless.

The entire skirmish was over in five seconds. These men were elite, well-trained former special forces soldiers, yet Charles dispatched them as easily as if they were ants. He silently praised Dr. Abraham's serum for his newfound strength.

Charles didn't stop. He moved quickly to the monitoring room, intending to neutralize the two guards on duty there. Once they were dealt with, he could proceed deeper into the inner courtyard, capture Bakuto, and extract the location of the vibranium. Ideally, he would also take the vibranium with him, intending to use it to craft his own armor.

But as Charles entered the monitoring room, he was taken aback.

In the dim light of the monitors, the two guards—who were supposed to be vigilant—were instead engrossed in an P**n magazine, with one of them occupied below the table. Charles was momentarily stunned by the sheer negligence.

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Charles Kawalsky was speechless as he observed the situation. However, considering how long they had been confined in such a closed environment, he could somewhat understand their behavior.

During his time at Hydra's secret base, Charles had witnessed even more deplorable scenes. Many soldiers at the base, driven insane, had violated the prisoners—both male and female.

From one perspective, the negligence of these two individuals indirectly aided Charles in infiltrating the base.

However, Charles had no interest in watching their sordid activities. He shouted, "Hey!" to stop them.

Startled, the pair separated quickly. The man who had been indulging cursed as he raised his belt, saying, "Damn it, I told you Wayne is my girlfriend. If you want to mess around, do it elsewhere. I'm heading to heaven soon."

Before he could finish his sentence, Charles was already in front of him. He threw a punch that cleanly shattered the man's head, and with a swift kick, he sent Wayne, who was still on the ground, wiping his mouth, flying. Their heads exploded, sending this twisted pair directly to their version of heaven.

Charles realized he had developed a particular preference for smashing enemies' heads during combat. Perhaps it was influenced by the countless movies and TV shows he had watched in his previous life, where enemies always seemed to come back from the dead. Of course, he couldn't discount the impact of Thanos saying, "You should've gone for the head." As a result, Charles always made sure to obliterate his enemies' heads, ensuring they were truly dead.

After dispatching the enemies at the security post, Charles swiftly made his way deeper into the inner courtyard.

In just 30 seconds, he successfully located Bokuta's room. Without hesitation, he prepared to break in and take Bokuta hostage.

As soon as he entered, he saw several cold glints coming toward him. Charles rolled effortlessly, dodging the hidden weapons. He heard a series of sharp clangs as several kunai embedded themselves deeply into the floor behind him.

Immediately after, a long whip lashed out toward him. Charles, accustomed to such attacks that couldn't penetrate his defenses, extended his left arm to catch the whip, letting it coil around his arm several times. But to his surprise, the whip's tail seemed to come alive and slashed toward his eyes.

Reacting quickly, Charles managed to close his eyes, but he still felt a sting on his eyelids. Though it was just a scratch, he felt his vision blur slightly.

Angered, Charles yanked the woman at the other end of the whip toward him. This woman, one of the three main bodyguards, was a female ninja skilled in using kunai as hidden weapons and a whip as her primary weapon.

The female ninja had anticipated this move. Using Charles' pull to her advantage, she lunged toward him. In mid-air, she unsheathed a soft sword from her waist and slashed at Charles' throat.

In response, Charles instinctively tucked his chin down like any ordinary person would, but the female ninja had predicted this. With a flick of her wrist, the soft sword changed direction, targeting the already injured area near Charles' eyes.

The blade struck the same spot where Charles had been scratched earlier. The double hit caused his vision in the left eye to blur even more. Enraged, he swung wildly at the female ninja, grazing her left shoulder. Though his punch wasn't a direct hit, the force behind it was enough to cause her severe pain, likely cracking her shoulder bone. The female ninja quickly retreated.

The repeated injuries to his eyelids were minor, but they were enough to temporarily impair Charles' vision. Meanwhile, the female ninja remained calm outwardly, but internally, she was shocked. The poison on her weapon was lethal enough to kill a strong man within a minute with just a scratch. Yet, despite their fierce battle, Charles was not only still conscious, but he also seemed unaffected by the poison. If it weren't for the slight discoloration around his eyelids, she might have suspected her poison was fake. Additionally, his strength was terrifying; even a glancing blow from his punch had nearly incapacitated her. She couldn't help but think of Charles as a monster.

Seeing Charles' formidable skills, Boka couldn't help but try to recruit him. He figured that with Carter's protection and the female ninja's offensive skills, he would be invincible. He said to Charles, "You have incredible skills. Why not join me? Whatever your current organization pays, I'll double it. I can also guarantee your family's safety and bring them here under my protection."

Charles didn't listen. He charged at Bokuta with a cruel smile. Bokuta ordered, "Kill him and bring me his head as a trophy!"

The female ninja quickly lashed out with her whip, hooking it around Charles' waist, while Carter, a towering figure at over two meters, blocked Bokauta like a human wall. Carter, confident in his physical prowess and the steel plate hidden beneath his clothes, prepared to snap Charles' neck as soon as he got close.

But Carter's arrogance was his downfall. Charles' speed suddenly surged, reaching 80 kilometers per hour in a split second. The female ninja lost her grip on the whip, and Charles' speed and strength gave his sword immense kinetic energy. As the sword met Carter's body, it shattered the blade and tore through the steel plate, ripping Carter in half from the chest down.

Carter felt like he had been hit by a train. As he lay on the ground, he could barely comprehend that his body had been split so easily. He looked up at Charles with a confused expression. For a brief moment, Charles felt a pang of guilt for destroying such an honest man, but he quickly crushed Carter's head underfoot, erasing that guilt.

The last thing Carter saw was the sole of Charles' shoe descending upon him, and his final thought was, "I hope these shoes haven't stepped in anything gross."

With a sickening crunch, Charles crushed Carter's head like a watermelon dropped from a ten-story building. As he wiped away the trace of guilt he felt, he noticed the female ninja coming at him again, this time with a dagger.

Without even turning to look, Charles grabbed the female ninja's wrist mid-attack. He glanced at her attractive face and sighed inwardly. If the timing were different, he might have considered teaching this woman a lesson. But now wasn't the time. With a regretful punch, he obliterated the female ninja's head.

After dealing with everyone, Charles turned back to Boka and said, "Now, let's talk about that force-absorbing metal."

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Charles Kawalsky turned back to Bakuto and said, "I think we can have a productive conversation about the vibranium issue."

Bakuto, realizing that his human shield Carter and the female ninja who had been controlling the situation were taken down by this man in front of him in less than a minute, was anxiously wondering what the security team and Mauro, the commander of the escort, were doing. How could such a formidable adversary have infiltrated so easily? Especially Mauro—an old man who constantly bragged about his mastery of stealth. He always claimed that no one could slip past the patrols he trained personally, or evade his own vigilance. Mauro's assurances seemed utterly useless now. Bakuto cursed himself for ever believing the old man's nonsense.

"That old fool is dead," Charles added nonchalantly, as if reading Bakuto's thoughts. "He won't be rescuing you anytime soon. Unless, of course, he can grow a new brain."

Bakuto's heart sank. He knew Mauro wasn't going to sprout another head. His only hope now was to make peace with Charles and wait for the security team to come to his rescue. He doubted even a barrage of rifles could take down Charles, but he held onto a sliver of hope. Even if he had to hand over the vibranium, he needed to ensure he had some leverage for negotiation. Without it, the vibranium might not be enough to save his life.

Having made up his mind, Bakuto forced a simple, honest smile onto his face and said, "Haha, vibranium, is it? If you'd mentioned that earlier, we could have sat down and had a drink together, discussed things like civilized people."

Bakuto eased himself into a chair as he spoke, discreetly moving his right foot toward the hidden alarm under the desk. If he could just press it, the guards in the inner and outer courtyards would spring into action immediately. The inner courtyard guards would burst into the office within a minute, while the outer courtyard guards would quickly surround the building. But with the outer courtyard already under attack, it seemed likely this man had accomplices. Even so, there was no way the 30 or so guards in the inner courtyard had all been silently eliminated by this man in such a short time.

Before he could press the alarm, Charles appeared beside him in a blur, picking up a fragment of a sword and flicking it effortlessly through Bakuto's right foot. The pain made Bakuto want to leap from his chair, but Charles pinned him down with ease.

Placing his right hand on Bakuto's head, Charles spoke calmly, "Mr. Bakuto, I hope you'll hand over the vibranium and truthfully tell me where it came from and who you got it from. And don't resist—it'll only make things worse for you. Otherwise, I'll slowly press your brain into your belly."

As he spoke, Charles tightened his grip on Bakuto's skull ever so slightly.

Cold sweat dripped down Bakuto's forehead. His only hope now was that Charles wouldn't kill him. As for relying on the security team to get him out of this mess... that seemed increasingly unlikely. The pain radiating from his head made him certain that if the guards stormed in, Charles would crush his skull without hesitation. Bakuto didn't want to argue about whether his brain would be crushed or pressed into his stomach—he just hoped it would stay in his head.

"Don't be hasty, sir. I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just promise you won't kill me when it's over, or I won't cooperate," Bakuto said, trying to sound calm.

"Don't worry, I only want the vibranium and its source. As long as you cooperate, I'm not looking to cause unnecessary casualties. Believe it or not, I'm a pacifist," Charles said with a gentle smile.

Bakuto glanced at the headless corpses of his two men on the floor, the splattered brains and blood decorating the room, and then back at Charles' serene expression. He struggled to believe that Charles was any sort of peace lover.

"Now, you'll answer whatever I ask, and you'll answer immediately. If you hesitate, I might just lose my temper and burst your skull."

Charles had just threatened to press his brain into his belly, but now he was talking about bursting his skull. Bakuto cursed internally, but he immediately replied, "I understand. I won't hide anything."

"Name?"

"Corey Bakuto."

"Age?"

"42."

"What's your relationship with the kunoichi?"

"She's my bodyguard and lover." The pain in his head, coupled with Charles' threats, made Bakuto answer immediately, without even thinking.

Charles' questions became more personal, gradually breaking down Bakuto's defenses, making him accustomed to answering without hesitation. Once Charles felt this method was working, he steered the conversation toward his true objective.

"Where's the vibranium?"

"In my collection room."

"Where is this collection room?"

"It's hidden in a secret chamber in my study."

"How do you enter the collection room?"

"Through a password."

"What's the password?"

Bakuto hesitated for a moment. Charles slapped him across the face, knocking out a few teeth. The other hand pressed harder on Bakuto's skull. "I'll ask again. If you hesitate this time, I'll blow your head off."

Bakuto tried to nod in agreement, but his head was pinned by Charles' hand, making it impossible. In a panic, he stammered, "I won't hesitate this time, I swear!"

Charles repeated the question about the collection room password, mixing it in with personal questions, like "Have you ever spied on a girl while she was bathing?" After getting a general sense of Bakuto's life and comparing it to the information he had, Charles asked again, "What's the password to your collection room?"

This time, Bakuto didn't hesitate and gave up the password. Satisfied, Charles continued his questioning.

"Where did you get your vibranium?"

"A smuggler brought it in from Wakanda. He claimed that Wakanda is an incredibly advanced nation, with technology far beyond anything we've seen. He also said that if Wakanda wanted to, they could conquer the entire world. He called the metal vibranium—the core material for Wakandan buildings and weapons."

"What's the smuggler's name, and where is he now?" Charles asked.

"F. Martell, a known arms and metal smuggler. He told me he got lost during a smuggling run and stumbled into Wakanda while fleeing from an enemy. He said he saw skyscrapers, spaceships floating in the air, and people using spears as weapons. This piece of vibranium was part of one of those spears."

Bakuto added skeptically, "But I think the guy was hallucinating. With such advanced tech, they're still using spears? If those shepherds in Wakanda can dominate the earth, then I should be able to conquer the universe. He'd be more believable if he said he met aliens."

Charles silently agreed that if he hadn't seen Wakanda in a movie, he wouldn't believe that such a technologically advanced country could be hidden beneath such a primitive exterior.

"Where is that smuggler now?" Charles pressed.

Bakuto hesitated before admitting, "Well... I thought he was crazy, so I chopped him up and fed him to the dogs."

Charles sighed internally. The only lead he had to a specific entrance to Wakanda was now dead. The organization wouldn't be pleased with that answer. But now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Charles quickly pulled Bakuto to his feet, forcing him to open the secret door to the collection room.

The collection room was small, but its contents shocked Charles, who had been just another office worker in his previous life.

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