Su Ming ate the meal Xiao Wang brought from the school cafeteria, looking out the window of the principal's office towards the academy.
Yesterday's chaos in the city did not affect Long Island, and the academy was running normally at this time.
After the Mao Sisters graduated from the academy, most of the current students here are orphans collected from various places. After graduation, depending on their specialties, they will be assigned to different departments of secret fronts or enterprises.
Of course, those with especially good talents are directly transferred to Kama Taiji, which is also something that Wang is responsible for.
The snow outside the window was blown away a bit by the wind, making a slight sound on the glass.
He remembered the crocodiles in the pond; Long Island, New York is not the traditional habitat for alligators, but some people like to keep them as pets, and the legend of alligators in New York sewers has a long history, and the crocodiles in Su Ming's academy were probably also once someone's escaped pets.
There's no room for them elsewhere, but here it's no problem, and that's the educational significance.
No matter where they come from, as long as they're loyal when they get here, that's enough.
"Once you're done eating, you head to the Spider Web Headquarters in Hawaii, I'll go to Washington." Su Ming pondered over some things, wiped his mouth, stood up, and asked Wang to open the door for him.
Zola's work on that side should be almost done now, and the intelligence from Spider Web should have returned to the headquarters. Wang should pass this intelligence to Selene via magical communication, and on the Supreme Leader's side, it's not an issue.
Lady Nine-Heads won't die off that easily, but as long as he's not dead, the contract between Deathstroke and Selene can't be fulfilled, so that woman will definitely do her utmost, she won't give up given the rich conditions.
If she can't do it, she won't get the benefits, and Lady Nine-Heads will always be entangled with her.
Even if she's lucky and succeeds, Su Ming only needs to sell Mr. Sinister to her, saving himself the trouble.
The real problem now is that Steve's situation is unknown; whether he can overcome the psychological shadows of having killed so many of his own people.
Even Monac found it hard to bear that kind of guilt, let alone the naive Steve.
Su Ming has to go see, even though he knows the original plan for Captain America is likely unfeasible, he can't let Steve completely fall apart.
In the identity of Slade, a trip to the ruins of Washington, he and Peggy should be there now.
...........
Steve sat on a stone pillar by the roadside, which was actually the base of a broken street lamp, examining the shield painted with a star in front of him, then lifted his head to look at the end of the street, where another 'Captain America' was busy directing traffic.
After an unplanned encounter the previous night, the two simply operated together; however, unlike the other, that person felt little about inadvertently killing many US soldiers. It was a matter of survival, after all, and the others were mind-controlled—what else could be done?
But Steve couldn't get over that mental barrier.
He had saved thousands on the battlefield in the past, yet the night before, before waking up, he led the Roaring Assault Team to slaughter so many, and he couldn't imagine how people would see him if word got out.
Undoubtedly, if someone's family was killed by Captain America, that hatred would be deeply embedded until it eventually erupted.
"Hey, Captain, what are you thinking?"
William approached, clinking his shield with Steve's, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"You're the Captain America now, I'm just... a temporary stand-in." Steve adjusted his hair, squeezing out a reluctant smile.
William put down his shield, and the two Captain Americas sat side by side. He removed the half-mask covering his face, revealing a face identical to Steve's: "No, you're my idol. Maybe others don't know, but to me, you're the real captain. I'm sorry about last night; I didn't know you were back."
Steve blew a breath, looking at the charred building cluster across the road, and further at the ruined city: "I also have issues. I didn't expect the military to steal my blood to replicate the serum, all without my knowledge."
"Ha, what wouldn't those officials do? I knew long ago." William shrugged, showing an apologetic expression: "But it was my mistake. Look, I didn't refuse serum modification, didn't reject the surgery, even obeyed and used your name, your military ID, fully pretending to be you."
"Perhaps we were both wrong, or maybe neither of us was, but in this situation, I don't know how to proceed." Steve felt like returning to the battlefield, and Baki wasn't here: "You saw Lady Nine-Heads' speech on TV, right? She showed videos of me killing."
William patted Steve's shoulder, softly comforting: "Yes, that's true, but who would believe Hydra's words?"
"But essentially, the video isn't wrong; I killed my own, all good guys, just mind-controlled, and now there's already a cure."
Steve referred to a remedy discovered by Peggy, who found that knocking out the controlled personnel and removing their anti-toxic mask would free them once they awoke.
It was that simple.
This made Steve regret more; why did he have to go lethal? If he used the shield just to knock them out, he clearly could have saved them.
Moreover, a mysterious person who could fly appeared. Trying to stop him was futile; with a flick of a finger, Steve and his shield were thrown, unable to stop anything, only watch as the iron storm engulfed the troops like a tsunami.
Steve was lost, contemplating the meaning of heroism.
William understood what was happening; Steve had always been a hero, continually holding himself to high moral standards, striving to embody the traditional hero image in people's minds.
This was essentially him trapping himself like a saintly figure within a circle.
But how can a mortal act like a Saint? Even the Bible is false; the world isn't so black-and-white, and heroes aren't necessarily as glamorous as in fairy tales.
Frankly, with such a moral purity, William didn't know how this Captain America survived World War II.
"Who could foresee what would happen? Let's leave it for now; I have to report to higher-ups. Are you waiting here for your girlfriend?"
He brushed snow from his pants and stood up, after all, he was just following orders, killing is the soldier's duty, why so entangled, Captain?
"Goodbye, you're the Captain America, not me anymore." Steve nodded, head down and started tinkering with his shield once more.
He looked at the inside of the shield, marked with seemingly indelible strong glue traces.
On stage, he had defeated countless enemies, and in World War II, he believed he had defeated Hydra. But when those demons reappeared, a single strike incapacitated him—is this their real power?
William sighed; he also didn't know what to say, so he waved and pulled up his mask: "Goodbye."
The two saying goodbye did not know this was a final farewell.