The HYDRA welcome banquet was all show and no substance. After Gideon's speech, the other members took turns welcoming the Dragon King with hollow pleasantries and meaningless information exchanges. They might as well have been performing for Hong Fei's benefit—a pathetic display of amateur theatrics before a true master.
Hong Fei had no patience for their games. His focus snapped back to Sokovia. Right on schedule, Xu Wenwu had made his move. Soon enough, the Hudson would be littered with bodies—hitmen, fugitives, politicians, even agents.
"They actually dared to act?" Hong Fei almost laughed at the absurdity.
Xu Wenwu's voice was deceptively calm over the phone.
"They don't recognize me or Yelena. Those hired guns and criminals all came for us."
Hong Fei barked a laugh. If they'd targeted Steve or Natasha instead, they might've walked away with their lives. Attempting to assassinate Xu Wenwu and leaving a corpse intact would be a mercy. As for Yelena? That sweet-faced, volatile girl would ensure their deaths were quick.
Xu Wenwu continued, "So for every attacker they send, I remove one of theirs."
"You haven't slaughtered the entire negotiation team, have you?"
"Not yet. There are... quite a few."
Hong Fei considered this.
"If they still refuse to cooperate, stop wasting time."
"What do you suggest?"
"Find their pressure points. Use the fastest, most direct method to make them comply. Only kill if absolutely necessary."
"Fine."
The call ended. Hong Fei set down his phone. Xu Wenwu's bloodlust ran deeper than his own.
Hong Fei killed only when required, but never hesitated when the moment came. Xu Wenwu? He shot first and never asked questions. In this world, that wasn't necessarily a flaw. Men like that got things done. Men like Frank.
Mercy required justification—some redeeming quality in the recipient that sparked hesitation. Without it? You dealt with them normally. Until they provoked you. Then you weighed options: a beating today, death tomorrow, or just enough violence to make the point.
Constant, universal mercy wasn't human. Wasn't divine. It was an abstract ideal, polished by generations to fit their fantasies of perfection. Neither Hong Fei nor Xu Wenwu would extend such courtesy to the Federal negotiators. Normal interaction was already generous.
Though absent in person, Hong Fei could picture the scene: the other side arriving with outrageous demands. Textbook provocation. If he decided they deserved it, he'd feed them to the Hudson's fish without a second thought.
Then came the Malick family's representative.
"Mr. Hong, we're preparing to launch a most significant initiative. Its success will reshape the world."
Hong Fei's projection tilted its head in silent inquiry.
What followed was Hydra-S.H.I.E.L.D.'s long-gestating Insight Project.
Without repeating the brainwashing or insulting terms, in short, they planned to deploy Helicarriers synced with orbital satellites—creating a global surveillance network to monitor every inch of the planet while analyzing each individual's past and present.
Their logic was twisted beyond belief. If analysis suggested someone might commit a crime, they'd place them under strict surveillance. If the assessment deemed someone a threat to HYDRA or the world, they'd execute them preemptively—regardless of whether any actual wrongdoing had occurred. The sheer absurdity left Hong Fei too disgusted to even argue.
This "pre-crime" approach of monitoring, arresting, and executing potential offenders would inevitably create a totalitarian nightmare. Which, of course, aligned perfectly with HYDRA's agenda. Their entire Insight Project boiled down to one sleazy tactic: concept theft.
Imagine walking into a restaurant. You catch a whiff of food or glance at the menu—suddenly you're craving something. Then the owner demands payment. When you protest that you haven't eaten anything, he insists that thinking about food means you owe him. As you try to leave, he calls the cops who side with him.
At that point, you'd probably want to slap the guy. So the officers arrest you for attempted assault. Furious and helpless, you fantasize about killing someone—prompting the police to gun you down on the spot. The whole scenario reeks of Kafkaesque insanity.
"What a brilliant system," Hong Fei thought with disgust.
"Preventing crime, ensuring world peace."
Bullshit.
"Mr. Hong," the voice continued, "not everyone shares your enlightened perspective. We anticipate armed resistance, and we'd appreciate your assistance in suppressing it when the time comes."
"No problem."
Hong Fei's fingers twitched. What he really wanted was to crack their skulls open like walnuts. Back in Sokovia, his main body took a slow, steadying breath.
Dr. Helen Cho approached.
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing important. Just dealing with idiots."
She studied him for a long moment before asking quietly, "You want to kill them, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Don't get hurt."
"I won't."
"Then I'll get back to work."
"Mm."
Once she left, Hong Fei summoned Arthur.
"Compile all the footage into a ready-to-release package."
"Understood, sir. Should I designate specific distribution targets?"
"Blanket the entire world—every network, video platform, and TV station, major or minor."
"That'll take some time."
"Notify me when it's done. Oh, and save prime placement for our esteemed Director Fury. Prepare a special highlight reel just for him."
"Consider it done, sir."
After issuing those orders, Hong Fei contacted Frank.
"Where are you?"
"Abroad."
Hong Fei's eye twitched.
"'Abroad' isn't a fucking location."
He forced calm into his voice.
"Found the puppet masters yet?"
"Traced some leads, but they're buried deep. Only located one base so far."
Gunfire suddenly erupted through the comm. A scream cut through the noise before another burst silenced it permanently.
Hong Fei's eyebrows shot up.
"You just stumbled onto their base?"
More gunfire. Frank sounded almost bored.
"Plenty of warm bodies here, not sure if it's the main—wait. Got a weird one. Guy's frozen solid. Looks like a homeless Captain America. Scratch that—seven homeless Captain Americas?"
Hong Fei was on his feet instantly.
"Send coordinates."
"After I finish cleaning house."
"I'm not here to steal your kills!"
"You couldn't if you tried."
"Fuck you."
Hong Fei spun and tore open a portal, reaching through to yank Big Head out of his Sky Base lab. The scientist still wore his white coat and clutched a bubbling flask of foul-smelling liquid.
Big Head blinked blankly, still holding a bottle of liquid with a very strange color and smell, but seeing Hong Fei's expression, he didn't dare to ask. The stench hit like a physical blow, making Hong Fei recoil.
"Are you fucking boiling shit in the lab all day?"
Big Head rubbed his cheek with a wounded expression.
"Boss, that's my actual blood—just with some special solution mixed in..."
Hong Fei planted a foot in his backside, sending him tumbling through the portal.
"Clean yourself up before coming back!"
Moments later, Big Head reappeared through the doorway. After Frank rattled off coordinates, Hong Fei tore open another shimmering rift. Both men stepped through.
The underground base reeked of decades-old concrete and fresh blood. Corpses littered the passageways as they advanced. At the lowest level, they found Frank standing before a row of cryogenic chambers—Hong Fei's gaze immediately locking onto the frosted glass units.
Hong Fei wiped condensation from the nearest pod. Frozen faces stared back.
"What are these?"
Frank moved closer.
"Winter Soldiers."
Frank's brow furrowed.
"Never heard of them."
"HYDRA's personal hit squad. Active for seventy years, give or take."
Frank's mouth twisted.
"So we're looking at a bunch of nonagenarians?"
"Same as Rogers—cryostasis halts aging."
Hong Fei tapped the glass.
"They only thaw for missions. Biologically, they're all about Steve's age."
Frank nodded slowly.
"You know all this, yet didn't know about the base?"
Hong Fei shot him a glare.
"I can fly a plane. Doesn't mean I can build one."
"Boss!" Big Head called from the control panel.
"Found the release switch. Thaw them out?"
"Hold on."
Hong Fei moved down the line, stopping at the third pod. Inside lay James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky to friends. (And definitely not 'Ykcub'.)
Turning back, Hong Fei flashed Frank a grin.
"Six recruits for your squad."
"Thought there were seven?"
"Keeping one for myself. Speaking of which—where are numbers one through five?"
Frank blinked.
"You're asking me?"
"Who else would I ask?"
"Christ, Hong! They're your men!"
"Frank Castle! Punisher extraordinaire! Didn't I put you in charge?"
"Of the other hundred-twenty, not these five. They only take orders from you."
A vague memory surfaced, but Hong Fei doubled down.
"So where are they?"
Grumbling, Frank pulled out his phone.
Big Head raised a tentative hand.
"Um... I might know?"
Two sets of lethal eyes locked onto him. The technician shriveled under their gaze—the image of these two side-by-side now permanently seared into his nightmares.
"Spit it out," Hong Fei ordered.
"They're... supervising construction in Sokovia. At Superpower Park."
Frank's laugh came out strangled.
"Perfect. Only the most elite soldiers can build the best amusement park."
Hong Fei clapped him on the shoulder.
"You need training."
"What?"
"These corpses tell me you've plateaued. Your technique's sloppy. I'll fix that."
"No thanks."
Frank's eye developed a twitch.
"Rooftop. Nine tonight."