It was another bright and beautiful day.
By 9:00 AM, hundreds of chairs had been arranged across the lawn of the White House. Reporters from every major television network and media outlet were gathered, their high-end cameras mounted and ready.
Yesterday afternoon, they had received notice that the President would hold a press conference at exactly 10:00 AM today. When reporters pressed for details, the White House Press Secretary remained vague, offering no specifics other than the promise of a "massive breaking news story" and a "joyous occasion" that no one should miss.
Breaking news? A joyous occasion? Could it be that Jason Walter had died of cancer?
Driven by intense anticipation, the press corps had gathered at the White House gates as early as 7:00 AM. The moment the doors opened, they scrambled inside to secure the best camera angles and settled into their assigned seats. Before the President even appeared, the air was thick with speculation. Most of the theories revolved around the Joker Organization; their imaginations were too impoverished to conceive of anything else.
Half an hour later, the President emerged from the White House, looking sharp in a tailored suit. He wore a confident smile and waved at the cameras. After a smattering of applause, he stepped to the podium and began an unscripted speech.
"I have called this press conference today to share a momentous piece of news with the American people," He began. "Two nights ago, an American research vessel discovered the wreckage of an aircraft near the Arctic. Based on the captain's observations, the plane dates back to the 1940s and bears Nazi insignia."
The reporters looked confused. Finding a Nazi plane wreck was momentous news?
"The captain reported the find, and SHIELD dispatched agents to investigate. Inside the cabin, they found a man." The President paused, relishing the confusion on the reporters' faces before dropping the reveal. "That man is the greatest soldier in American history: Captain America, Steve Rogers!"
The entire lawn fell into a stunned silence. Eyes widened, mouths hung open, and for a moment, not a single person could find their voice.
Before they could recover, the President dropped another bombshell: "Following an intensive rescue effort, Captain America regained consciousness yesterday afternoon. He is healthy, lucid, and in excellent physical condition."
With that, the President signaled National Security agents to play a video. Two agents brought a 60-inch television to the front. The screen flickered to life, showing Steve Rogers in the back of a moving car. He looked fit and sharp, offering a shy smile to the camera.
"Hey, everyone. I'm Steve Rogers... I've been asleep in the ice for seventy years, and I finally woke up. Lord, I was terrified when I first opened my eyes; the world has changed so much. But I'm going to work hard to adjust to modern life, learn everything I can, and just like seventy years ago, I'm going to keep protecting you..."
Steve wasn't used to being on camera; his delivery was a bit stiff and halting, but those few words set the crowd on fire.
"OH! MY! GOD!"
"Captain America!"
"Jesus! Breaking news! Get this out now!"
The venue descended into absolute chaos. Reporters fumbled with their phones, screaming at their editors. "I don't care what's on the air right now! NBA, soap operas, whatever—cut it all! Get us live now!"
Within minutes, every television station in America seemed to have been hijacked. Normal programming was replaced by the live feed from the White House. In the age of the internet, the news swept across the country in seconds, triggering a tidal wave of comments that nearly crashed social media servers.
"Holy crap! A man from my history textbook is actually alive!"
"What are the odds? I literally just made a wish at his museum exhibit yesterday."
"Cap is my idol. My bedroom is covered in his posters."
"This feels like a dream."
"Cap is back. The Joker Organization is finished!"
"I'm a little worried... Can Cap really beat Jason Walter?"
"Are you kidding? Cap broke through German lines alone and saved a thousand prisoners. He basically changed the outcome of WWII by himself."
"I hate to be the wet blanket, but Jason can do all that too..."
*
While the internet was in an uproar, the Joker Organization—at the eye of the storm—was hardly lagging behind.
Active users in the "Joker Community" spiked. Lurkers who usually never posted were suddenly "popping up" to express their concerns about the organization's safety. It was understandable; Cap was the world's first superhero. He was a historical figure, a movie star, and a museum centerpiece. It wasn't just the youth who admired him; their fathers and grandfathers had grown up on his legends. In the collective memory, Cap was the invincible, perfect man. By contrast, a man like Jason Walter seemed like a mere clown.
In the inner circle's private chat, Chloe shared the video clip.
Christine: "Wow, the Captain's physique is incredible. I'm a fan."
John: "I've seen the documentaries. His strength, speed, and reflexes are flawless. It's almost a waste that he isn't an assassin."
David: "He makes a fine soldier. Even in mercenary circles, guys look up to him as the gold standard of a national hero."
Franklin: "I still have a full set of his collector cards. Got them from eating instant noodles back in the day."
A-Train: "Despite the difference in skin color and beliefs, the Captain is a man worthy of respect. His story inspired me when I was at my lowest. He was my childhood hero."
Harley, being highly educated, wasn't buying the hype: "Those stories are just propaganda tools designed to promote patriotism. The reality is never that dramatic."
Stan, ever the opportunist, felt the same: "Legendary hero? He's just a lab rat for the military and a puppet for the government."
Chloe: "Sir, what do you think?"
In a luxury Manhattan apartment, Jason lay on his sofa, idly tossing his phone. "What do I think? I think I'm watching this while lying down."
The annoyance in his tone was palpable through the screen.
Franklin: "Cap's resurrection means he's coming for us. No wonder the boss is pissed."
Jason: "He's just a remnant from the last century. No superpowers, no advanced tech, and his strength isn't exactly groundbreaking. He's not worth the stress."
Harley: "Honey, did he offend you or something?"
Jason: "You're sensitive. It's not an 'offense,' just a minor grudge not worth mentioning."
The others grew curious, asking for details. Jason finally snapped: "Look, when I was a kid in juvie, the guards made us watch Captain America educational films every single day to try and turn us into good little citizens. Since then, I've never been able to stand that man's face."
The group erupted into laughter. After the joking subsided, the talk turned to business.
Jason: "Stan, SHIELD discovered him. Why didn't you have any intel on this?"
Stan: "SHIELD is fractured. All the heavy-hitting news stays with Fury's inner circle. Those of us who are relatively new and 'untrusted' just get the grunt work."
Franklin: "That's rough. You're less cool than the DEA Director now."
Stan: "Tell me about it. I can't even skim off the top."
Jason: "SHIELD's strength is all on the surface. They're isolated. They won't cause much of a stir. Stan, keep your eyes on Hydra. They're much more dangerous."
Stan: "Understood. I'm keeping a close eye on them. I brainwash Alexander Pierce's henchman every single day."
Jason: "Good. Harley, you asked about the new recruit? This one is special. It'll be a while before they officially join. I'm out. Get back to work."
*
While the Joker Organization's core remained largely unfazed, the rest of society was in a state of delirium, as if it were Christmas. Bars and nightclubs were packed, with "Half-Off Drinks" signs everywhere. The alcohol industry seemed to be the real winner of the day.
"Hurrrgh!"
In a dark alleyway next to a blue-collar bar, the sound of retching echoed. This alley had become the unofficial designated vomiting zone for the patrons next door. A middle-aged man in a cheap suit, looking like an insurance salesman, was currently emptying his stomach. He had clearly had too much to drink, retching a dozen times until his stomach was clear.
"Ugh... so much... better..."
Muttering to himself, he leaned against the wall to steady himself. He slung his jacket over his shoulder and staggered toward the alley exit. Through bloodshot eyes, he saw a man in a hooded sweatshirt standing in his path.
The man in the hoodie stepped aside, offering a polite warning: "Hey buddy, I left a mess back there. Watch your step."
Alex didn't answer. He let the man pass, then turned around.
Shhh-tk!
Several blood-red, writhing, vein-like tendrils erupted from Alex's body.
Putch!
The tendrils easily pierced the man's back, instantly siphoning his flesh and blood back into Alex's form. Ten seconds later, Alex walked out of the alley with his hands in his pockets, leaving nothing behind but a few tattered, empty clothes.
He shifted his form into that of a nondescript average guy and returned to his apartment. Sitting at his computer, he began to log today's dining experience. He scrolled up, looking through his previous entries:
Status: Unbelievable as it is, I am technically dead. Specifically, I am a mobile, thinking corpse.
Attributes: My strength, speed, and reflexes far exceed human limits.
Anatomy: My flesh is alive and can be manipulated by my conscious will.
Regeneration: As long as I have sufficient biomass, I can repair bullet wounds almost instantly.
Sustenance: The only way to replenish biomass is through dining. It satisfies my hunger; I have no need for normal food or water.
Absorption: After dining, I gain the target's memories and can mimic their appearance. However, physical skills that require muscle memory and practice cannot be mastered instantly through memory alone.
Potential: After dining, every cell, fiber, and organ in my body feels hyper-active. It's possible that enough consumption will lead to a qualitative evolution.
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You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
Top 100. All time.