Young Man, You're Walking a Narrow Path

"Found it!!!"

"We found a Nazi plane!!! We found a Hydra plane!!!"

"Quick, quick, quick! Get Agent Coulson, and Agent Hammer too!!!"

Jack had been lying on his bed, endlessly tossing and catching his hammer to get a feel for it. When he heard the excited shouting outside, he was initially quite happy. Finding Captain America meant he could return to New York.

It also meant his suffering would finally come to an end. He had, at most, two weeks left to set his Evil Points straight again!

But... Agent Hammer?!

Young man, you were walking a narrow path!

With a dark expression, Jack picked up the hammer that had not left his side for the past two weeks and walked out of the senior agents' private lounge.

When Jack opened the door, the freezing Antarctic wind poured into the warm lounge. Calmly accepting everyone's attention, he frowned and shouted under their gazes, "Whoever called me Agent Hammer just now, step forward! Today, I'm going to let you have a taste of this hammer!!!"

The moment he said that, the atmosphere froze. Everyone knew "Agent Hammer" was merely a joke. After all, compared to Coulson, Jack was very young—only around twenty-four.

He was at just the right age for them to tease one another and grow closer through it.

But was he really taking it this seriously? Did that mean this young agent was actually as stern as Fury?

The next second, Jack broke into a wide grin. "Hahahaha! Look at your expressions! I was just joking! Do you really think I can't take a joke?"

"Hahahaha! I scared you, didn't I!"

"Hahahahaha!"

Once Jack laughed, everyone immediately laughed as well. While breathing a sigh of relief, they also found it strange that Jack's serious expression had actually scared them.

Best in the room: Evil Gaze.jpg

At that moment, a handsome young man with black hair and a somewhat square face stepped forward. He enthusiastically walked over to Jack, patted him on the shoulder, and said with feeling, "Bro, you were seriously terrifying just now. So stern. Your acting is genuinely good!"

"You are?" Jack found the guy somewhat familiar, but after spending three whole years in the Marvel Universe, his memories of the movies had become a little blurry. He could not remember who this was.

"Me? I'm Level Three Agent Grant Ward!"

Jack said, "Oh... so you're one of my comrades..."

The moment the other man mentioned the name Ward, Jack knew who he was. This was one of Hydra's men, a man destined to become famous within S.H.I.E.L.D. in the future.

He was still in the phase where the old popsicle was being dug up, though, so he remained a rookie.

But with Ward's abilities, Jack believed he would soon become a powerful asset to both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra.

But... young man... your path had become narrow...

Agent Hammer?

Your superior sent you here to make face-to-face contact with me, and this was how you chose to approach me?

Before Ward could react, Jack directly shoved the hammer into his hands. Then, as Ward's terrified gaze followed his falling body, Jack took out a cigarette and lit it with a lighter filled with aviation kerosene, facing the fierce Antarctic wind.

Once the cigarette was lit, Ward's hand was pinned to the ground beneath the hammer, unable to move.

The atmosphere froze once more.

"Oh~ I forgot ordinary people can't lift this hammer~"

Jack, seemingly "belatedly realizing" his mistake, wore an expression of "regret over being so careless." He quickly picked up the hammer, pulled Ward up from the ground with one hand, and pretended to apologize in a low voice.

In reality, he was issuing a quiet warning.

"Ward, if you dare joke about the hammer again, I'll tie it to you and sink you into some small patch of sea in Antarctica."

"The freezing water will keep your corpse from rotting for months at the bottom, but the fish living in those waters will gnaw at your body."

"When they pull you back up, your memorial photo will show a miserable sight that not even a funeral makeup artist can fix!"

When Jack finished speaking, Ward's face, already nearly bloodless from the cold, turned incomparably pale, just like the snow-white ice beneath his feet.

But what Ward did not dare look directly at, and did not dare dwell upon, were Jack's eyes.

They were eyes so evil that they inspired even greater awe than those of his adoptive father, Garrett.

Terrifying! Horrifying! It was like staring into the eyes of a demon!

At that moment, Ward finally understood why Garrett had repeatedly warned him, when giving him this order, not to behave like a young man and not to do anything disrespectful toward Jack.

Now he understood...

Those eyes explained everything...

A man's eyes could not lie.

The kind of person someone was determined what kind of eyes he had.

A pair of evil eyes?

How much dirty work had he done in secret? How much blood had stained his hands? How many people had he personally killed to cultivate such a gaze?

At that moment, Garrett felt that he had found an idol!

An idol who was as young as he was, yet overwhelmingly powerful!

Just as Ameriken Child had worshipped Captain America since childhood, Ward had also admired Captain America when he was young. But after meeting Garrett, that admiration changed slightly, combined with the deaths of his parents and other events.

Now, he only worshipped the strong!

And Jack happened to match the ultimate goal Ward had pursued his entire life!

"Did I scare this kid into developing some kind of problem..."

As Ward's gaze gradually shifted from fear to reverence, Jack mocked him internally, but he was actually a little startled himself.

How could someone be so scared by that look that he turned reverent?

Could it be... brother, do you have Stockholm syndrome?

Jack made up his mind that he needed to stay farther away from this guy. Also... he needed to rein in that sharp gaze of his!

Jack took out a pair of sunglasses from one of the pockets inside his down jacket. He coolly put them on, held his hammer, and strode toward the excavation site where Captain America had been uncovered.

Halfway there, he saw everyone standing around in a daze. Facing the fierce Antarctic wind, he roared, "What are you still standing there for! Want to become popsicles?! Do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. pays you for nothing?"

"Get to work, all of you!"

"The sooner we find Captain America, the sooner we can leave this godforsaken place in Antarctica!!!"

Jack's roar snapped everyone out of it. They immediately scattered and got back to work.

From afar, Coulson, who had watched the entire scene, nodded in satisfaction. Fury had asked him to observe Jack during this period and see whether he was qualified to shoulder greater responsibility, or whether he could specialize in some aspect of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s work.

Sure enough, someone who had risen to become a regional director in three years truly had some skill. A few words, a few actions, a single look, and he had the entire crowd firmly in his grasp.

Though Jack's style of doing things might be a little rougher than Coulson had imagined.

Still, Jack was young—only twenty-four. There was time to correct him.

"I wonder whether Director Fury will consider putting him on the list of director candidates..."