Bang! Bang! Bang!
Steve pounded the punching bag with one punch after another.
Every blow produced an ear-splitting bang.
Beside him, Howard recorded the results through the instruments and stared at the data displayed on the screen in utter shock.
"Ninefold physical enhancement, far beyond the original serum's fivefold increase."
Howard said incredulously, "How did Allen do it?"
Not only that, Steve had been hammering the punching bag for half an hour, yet he showed no sign of fatigue whatsoever.
His superhuman endurance was enough to support long-distance combat operations. It completely eclipsed Dr. Erskine's Super Soldier Serum.
"This is terrifying. He is practically comparable to the demigod heroes of myth."
Carter was an agent who had undergone physical enhancement training. She knew very well what ninefold physical attributes and superhuman endurance meant.
With some combat training, he could no longer be described as one man against nine. One man against a hundred, or even a thousand, would be more fitting.
At present, in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agent ranking system, even Dum Dum Dugan, their highest-ranked Level Eight agent, would probably need quite a while to catch his breath after taking a punch from Steve.
"Steve has not reached his limit yet. Based on my estimate, his adaptation and growth cycle will take at least three months. By then, his physical capabilities should conservatively reach fifteen times normal levels, while his neural and cognitive abilities will increase proportionately as well."
Howard's shock was beyond words. At the same time, he was glad Allen lacked the materials to produce more serum.
Once these superhumans entered society after the war ended, they would undoubtedly pose an enormous hidden danger. If they went astray, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Allen admitted that he could not make another serum like Serpent's Blood.
First of all, he did not know how to make the Super Soldier Serum. He had merely improved upon the existing formula.
"Old Man's eldest son, your father has come to see you."
Carrying an old-fashioned record player on his shoulder, Allen walked up to Steve and said cryptically, "The punching bag is dead, but people are alive. You need to use your brain when you fight."
Steve stopped hitting the bag and looked at him in confusion. "You know martial arts too?"
"Whoosh, EZ."
Allen set down the record player and said, "First, I need to pick a hype BGM."
He pressed the start button, and music began to play.
Allen frowned slightly and decisively changed the song.
"This doesn't feel right."
"It's not one I like."
"This heavy metal is way too heavy."
"I like agricultural heavy metal."
After switching through more than a dozen tracks, none of the musical styles of this era met Allen's standards.
"What the hell."
Frustrated, Allen kicked the record player away and said with a disdainful look, "What awful taste. Even the sound of my diarrhea has a better melody."
It was obvious that Allen's mental state was highly unstable.
Howard and Carter silently watched his performance.
"Allen, stop fooling around. I'm afraid I might hurt you," Steve said worriedly.
"Kid, you've got some nerve."
Allen's eyes widened as he said coldly, "You're the first person who has said they were afraid of hurting me."
"Deng deng deng... come on, baby, baby. I'm a man who comes with his own BGM."
Allen instantly got into character. His legs shifted back and forth like he was dancing the tango, while his head weaved left and right so quickly that his face became a blur. Only his torso remained completely still.
"Deng deng deng... sissy, come at me."
"Deng deng deng... seeing my speed, are you scared now?"
Steve understood that if he did not indulge Allen's nonsense for a moment, Allen would probably never let it go.
"Be careful."
As he spoke, Steve threw a controlled punch, worried that he might kill Allen with one blow.
Such an ordinary punch naturally could not touch Allen.
"Deng deng deng... big-butted sissy, did you skip breakfast? Are your cute little punches supposed to charm your enemies to death?"
"Deng deng deng... I bet you're here to be funny. Did you train under Master Kim?"
"Deng deng deng... the Super Soldier Serum inflated your muscles, but shriveled your kidneys. Your weak punches are soft as cotton."
Allen never struck back, but his mouth never stopped running.
Even a clay Buddha had some temper. Steve gradually increased the force behind his punches.
Yet he still could not land a single blow on Allen, as though Allen could predict the trajectory of every punch beforehand.
Howard and Carter, watching from the sidelines, were both amazed by Allen's skills. They could not help wondering whether all lunatics were this abnormal nowadays.
Steve had long since discarded his dismissive attitude and faced Allen with complete seriousness.
Punch after punch struck empty air. Even after using all his strength, his breathing began to grow labored.
Meanwhile, Allen bobbed his head to his so-called BGM, showing no sign whatsoever of declining stamina.
"Deng deng deng... Old Man's eldest son, here's your first lesson. When you can't beat your enemy, use a gun to decide the winner."
That made a lot of sense.
Within ten steps, bullets were both fast and accurate.
"Deng deng deng... Old Man's eldest son, here's your second lesson. When you're deadlocked, psychological attacks can work wonders. For example: Sissy, didn't you eat? Did you jerk off too much last night? I think you belong in the elderly cremation group. Remember to sit at the kids' table when you eat. No wonder your wife complains at night that you can't perform..."
"Deng deng deng... Old Man's eldest son, here's your third lesson. If none of that works, call in people and gang up on them immediately. Do despicable things in the name of justice."
Unfortunately, Steve was wholly focused on throwing punches and had no attention to spare for anything else.
The refined Howard had no interest in fighting and killing. Instead, he was calculating Allen's various physical attributes.
Only Carter pondered the meaning behind those three statements and suddenly felt enlightened.
To sum it up: anyone who did not use a gun was an idiot; curse during a fight to distract your opponent; if you could gang up on someone, never fight one-on-one.
"Allen!"
"Huh?"
At that moment, Wilson ran into the training room.
The moment he heard someone call his name, Allen instinctively answered and turned to look.
Pfft...
In the next second, Steve's fist slammed into Allen's face.
Allen immediately flew straight sideways like an arrow.
Bang!
Allen's entire head embedded itself in the wall.
"Someone's dead! Hurry up and save him!"
Howard rushed over to check on him.
If Allen had been punched to death, this would become a huge problem.
Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey...
"I was careless. I didn't dodge."
Allen pulled his head out of the wall and dusted off his hair, showing no sign of injury whatsoever.
Steve, having calmed down, asked with concern, "Allen, are you all right?"
"I'm fine. My brain was already messed up, so I won't sue you."
Allen swept back his hair and declared confidently, "I feel even more clear-headed than before."
Howard looked him over from head to toe and carefully asked, "Allen, could I study your body?"
Hearing that, Allen leaped back a step, clutched his chest with both hands, and eyed him warily. "Oh ho... Old Howard, so you really covet my proud, delicate body."
"Stop messing around. The military has sent people to inspect our latest research results."
Wilson was genuinely anxious. As Allen's assistant, how could he not know how utterly deranged this lunatic was?
"Finally, it's my time to show off my talents."
Allen looked smugly at Wilson and ordered, "Bring over my ten greatest inventions."
Wilson looked hesitant. "Are you sure you want to do that?"
Were those really ten great inventions?
After seeing them, the military might pull its funding on the spot.
"Everything is under control."
Before you continue