Washington D.C.
Continuous drizzling rain.
Main city road.
A Chevrolet SUV was being surrounded and attacked.
Execution-style.
"Director, the power system is dead, and the defensive armor is about to give way."
The onboard AI's voice was exceptionally calm amidst the hail of bullets.
Nick Fury had no time to respond; he jerked the steering wheel, his single eye filled with desperate ruthlessness.
Several disguised police cars were heavy-firepower vehicles, squeezing him toward death.
Boom!
With a dull thud, the roof suddenly sagged downward.
A cold, glinting metal arm tore through the reinforced bulletproof roof amidst the ear-piercing sound of grinding metal.
Winter Soldier.
Bucky Barnes.
He tore open the roof, detached a disc-shaped magnetic mine from his belt, and slid it under the driver's seat.
His movements were clean and efficient, like a heartless killing Robot.
The mine's red light flashed rapidly.
Nick Fury's heart sank.
He was the king of Agents, but the current situation was almost a dead end.
Is it over?
A second before the red light was about to stay lit.
Snap.
A terrifyingly crisp snap of fingers rang out in the air.
A gust of compressed air slammed silently into the side of the mine.
With a burst of clever force, the newly attached magnetic mine was sent flying.
Rumble!
The mine hit the roadside guardrail, and a massive fireball swallowed an enemy vehicle.
Before Nick Fury's mind could process it, a suction force arrived, and the air in the car turned scorching hot.
A bunch of brilliant red confetti exploded next to his driver's seat, like festive fireworks.
Amidst the red paper dancing in the air, a red rose was stuck in his air conditioning vent, trembling slightly with the car's body.
"This...?"
Fury's experienced veteran mind stalled for a moment, but his physical instinct seized the opportunity.
"Activate the cutting laser! We're going down!"
Taking advantage of the gap cleared by the explosion, the bottom of the driver's seat collapsed, and he dropped into the maintenance shaft below under the cover of smoke.
On the roof, Bucky steadied himself, his cold eyes showing no panic, only a hint of a killer's confusion.
But he had no time to overthink.
He jumped off the car and leaped into the dark underground passage, continuing to hunt his prey.
The moment Bucky landed, the nature of this pursuit changed.
[Thermal Imaging Locked: Target distance, 30 meters.]
Inside Bucky's tactical goggles, the red outline was very clear.
That "Fury" was stumbling through the pipes.
Bucky raised his gun and fired a burst.
Bang!
Bang!
Two bullets hit the center of the target's back.
No blood.
And no body fell to the ground.
That "Fury" was hit by the bullets, and with a "whoosh," he actually turned into a piece of rough yellow paper, burning to ash in the damp air.
[Error: Target nature abnormal.]
Bucky's movements paused for half a second.
This wasn't right.
Footsteps echoed from the left passage again.
The goggles captured the signal once more.
This time there were two "Furys," running in opposite directions.
He raised both hands simultaneously, a submachine gun in his left and a grenade in his right, covering both directions with firepower.
Boom!
Rat-tat-tat!
Two more "Furys" were gone.
One turned into playing cards flying everywhere, each printed with the Joker's smiling face.
The other exploded directly into smoke, leaving only a swaying scarecrow in its place, wearing the iconic single-eye patch askew on its head.
High up on a ventilation pipe, Lin Huai sat with his legs crossed.
He held an apple in his hand and took a crisp bite.
The look he gave Bucky was full of mockery.
"Left. No, there are rats there. Right... ah, that's it."
Lin Huai's fingers moved slightly, and invisible gusts of wind guided the real Fury.
Fury himself didn't know that he always weirdly turned into a blind spot just a second before Bucky was about to lock onto him.
This Winter Soldier, who made the World tremble with fear, was now engaged in a pursuit that had become a clumsy circus performance.
"Played enough."
Lin Huai threw away the apple core.
"Time for the actors to exit."
He snapped his fingers, "guiding" the real Fury toward the exit.
Ten minutes later.
On the ground two blocks away.
Fury was covered in dust and his thigh was cut by shrapnel; he clumsily climbed over a railing and rushed into an empty alley.
The shadow of death still loomed over him, making him afraid to stop.
He leaned behind a trash can, panting, and pulled out his pistol, only to find the magazine empty.
In the distance, a black figure appeared at the mouth of the alley.
Bucky didn't waste words; he raised his submachine gun, the muzzle locking onto Fury's chest.
From thirty meters away, the rain hitting his goggles made him look devoid of humanity.
Fury closed his eyes.
Bang!
The gunshot rang out.
Fury's body jolted violently.
He opened his eyes.
An orange-yellow bullet was suspended three inches in front of his forehead.
In front of the bullet, a pale yellow paper effigy with strange red symbols was blocking it firmly.
The bullet stopped, and the paper effigy ignited with a "whoosh," turning to ash instantly.
[Paper Clone Substitutes].
Bucky's movements at the alley entrance suddenly froze.
His finger on the gun tightened.
A Warrior's instinct sounded an alarm; he was facing an unknown, supernatural power.
He immediately swung his gun around, quickly pointing it at the surrounding high vantage points.
"Who's there?!"
He growled, his voice raspy.
"Good evening, veteran."
A flippant voice came from the fire escape nearby.
Bucky looked up sharply.
On the rusty iron ladder sat a young man wearing a mid-height silk top hat.
He was playing with a card in his hand, a teasing smile on his face.
"Using such a grand display to bully a disabled old man isn't fitting for someone of your status."
Lin Huai didn't move, but a coin at his fingertips disappeared.
A ball of orange-red Fire danced at his fingertips.
Bucky didn't hesitate and raised his gun to fire.
Rat-tat-tat—
Bullets hit the fire escape, kicking up a shower of sparks.
The moment the gun fired, the fireball exploded, and Lin Huai's figure vanished.
When he reappeared, he was already beside Fury.
"Time to go, Director."
Lin Huai grabbed the dumbfounded Fury.
"Today's performance ends here."
Bucky turned his gun again, but Lin Huai simply gave him an elegant "goodbye" gesture.
"Also, tell the people behind you. This house called S.H.I.E.L.D. is too old. Since they aren't willing to repair it, I don't mind helping them... with the demolition."
Whoosh—
A larger ball of Fire enveloped the two of them.
By the time Bucky rushed forward, only dying sparks and the smell of sulfur remained in the alley.
He stood there, his metal arm having squeezed clear finger indentations into the trash can from excessive force.
He looked at the empty alley, his brow furrowed tightly beneath his mask.
This wasn't technology.
Nor was it a Mutant.
This was a... premeditated, eerie "trick."
He was silent for a few seconds before pressing his earpiece.
His voice was dead.
"Mission failed. Target encountered 'abnormal contact.' Requesting re-evaluation."
A few blocks away, in a safe house.
Lin Huai let go of the limp Fury and rubbed his aching brow.
To pull off that stunt just now, the high-intensity Flame Leap and damage transfer had taken a significant toll on his current spirituality.
Although that substitute blocked the bullet, his own chest felt as if it had been struck by a heavy hammer.
"What was that..."
Fury panted, his single eye staring intently at Lin Huai.
"magic? Or some new type of technology?"
"It's a magic trick."
Lin Huai talked nonsense casually as he walked to the window to glance at the sirens outside.
"Director Fury, I've saved your life. But to make the trick convincing, you might need to die once more. However, before that..."
Lin Huai turned around, tossing a coin and catching it, his eyes full of calculation.
"We need to send your beloved soldier a 'relic' sufficient to drive him mad. Only a crazed lion will bite through its chains."