Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, a month has passed.
A special report from WHIH News Channel is playing on a giant screen in Times Square, New York.
A blonde, blue-eyed female host sat in the studio, a professional smile on her face, speaking eloquently to the camera.
Good evening, everyone. Welcome to the WHIH Evening News.
"A month has passed since Stark Industries announced its relocation of its headquarters to New York. For the past month, the entire United States has been focused on the Stark brothers."
The screen then switched to CCTV footage from the streets of Los Angeles.
Several armed robbers had just stormed into a bank.
Before the group could even shout their robbery slogan, a red and blue figure descended from the sky and bound them tightly to a street lamp with Silk.
Immediately afterwards, a sonic boom cloud streaked across the sky.
Luca Stark, clad in black armor, hovered in mid-air, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous, intense white light.
This scene terrified the robbers so much that they wet themselves on the spot and cried out for the police to arrest them and put them in jail.
The host's voice continued to come through.
"As you can see, with the combined efforts of Superman Luca Stark, Iron Man Tony Stark, and the mysterious Ghost-Spider, Los Angeles ' crime rate has plummeted to an all-time low in just one month."
" Los Angeles is now known as the safest city in the United States. There are even rumors that Los Angeles gangsters would rather line up to turn themselves in at the police station than encounter these three superheroes on the street."
"Meanwhile, Stark Industries ' stock has soared over the past month, repeatedly breaking Wall Street records. The Stark brothers are not only superheroes, but also undisputed business geniuses."
The scene shifts again, this time to a grand party hosted by Stark Industries a few days prior.
In the video, Tony Stark descends from the sky wearing a brand-new red and gold suit of armor.
This suit of armor is longer and more streamlined than before, exuding a violent yet beautiful aesthetic.
At a recent charity gala, Tony Stark unveiled his new armor, the Mark IV, to the public.
According to sources within Stark Industries, this suit of armor utilizes a completely new energy transmission system, making it not only faster but also more powerful.
"Furthermore, the Stark brothers have publicly announced that they will be traveling to Monaco in a few days to participate in the annual Historic Grand Prix of Monaco."
"After the trip to Monaco, the highly anticipated Stark Expo will open in Flushing, New York."
"At that time, Stark Industries will showcase new technologies that will change the future to the world. Let's wait and see."
On the other side.
In the living room of a villa in Malibu.
Luca sat on the sofa, quickly swiping through his tablet, browsing Monaco's local yachts and party venues.
Tony stood in front of a mirror, wearing a flashy shirt, spraying hairspray into his meticulously combed hair.
Since receiving the serum injection, Tony has experienced a second spring in his life.
Now, he has perfectly defined muscles and walks with a breezy air.
" Tony, why are you bringing so much hairspray? The sea breeze in Monaco will blow your hair into a bird's nest," Luca retorted without looking up.
"You're a real man now, not some pretty boy who relies on his looks."
"Shut up, Luca. This is a man's taste." Tony put down the hair gel and raised an eyebrow in satisfaction at his reflection in the mirror.
"Strength is merely my inner beauty; I still need to use my looks to win over Monaco's supermodels. A brute like you, who only knows how to solve problems with violence, would never understand."
Luca sneered and tossed the tablet onto the table.
"Really? How about we make a bet? Let's see who brings back more beautiful women to their hotel in Monaco. The loser has to dance in a pink bodysuit at the opening ceremony of the expo."
Tony paused for a moment.
Then, he looked at Luca's flawlessly handsome face and his lips twitched slightly.
Although he has an amazing physique now, Luca has a face that can make women swoon, and his flirting methods are lewd and shameless.
If it really came down to this, Tony wasn't really sure he could win.
"What a pointless bet. I'm a man of taste; I won't play such childish games with you." Tony decisively backed down and forcefully changed the subject.
"The portable armor is finished. We'll test it out in Monaco. You'd better pray you don't run into any trouble, or I'll have to come to your rescue again."
"Give me a break. With your strength, you're still no match for me."
Luca stood up and stretched.
"Hurry up and pack your bags, Happy is already waiting for us outside."
The two brothers walked out of the villa, bickering as they went.
at the same time.
A medical center in Washington, D. C.
Outside a retro-style hospital room stood a large number of fully armed Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D..
In front of the one-way glass of the ward, Nick Fury stood with his hands behind his back, his only remaining eye fixedly staring into the room.
Standing beside him was Phil Coulson, a senior agent of S.H.I.E.L.D..
Coulson clutched several retro superhero cards tightly, his eyes filled with excitement.
A man was lying in the hospital room.
A man that S.H.I.E.L.D.. dug out of the depths of Arctic glacier a week ago.
Captain America, Steve Rogers.
However, the Captain America in front of him was vastly different from the image Coulson had heard in stories since childhood.
The reason was that he wasn't wearing the Stars and Stripes bodysuit shown on TV, but rather a black tactical uniform that exuded a menacing aura.
Moreover, Captain America's face is covered with a thick beard, and his facial features are as hard as iron.
Most importantly, it exudes an aura of having survived a bloodbath.
This doesn't resemble a moral exemplar representing light and justice at all; instead, it's like a Coldblood killer crawled out of hell.
"Chief, the doctor's report is in." Coulson swallowed hard and said in a low voice.
"The ice crystals inside Captain America's body have completely melted, and his cell activity is rapidly recovering. He is expected to awaken within five minutes."
Fury nodded expressionlessly.
"Very good. Is everything arranged in the room alright?"
"Everything was arranged in the style of 1940. The radio was playing a recording of a baseball game from May 1941. The nurses were also wearing uniforms from the SSR ( Strategic Scientific Reserve ) era."
Fury took a deep breath.
Over the past month, the Stark brothers have been making headlines, even announcing the relocation of their headquarters, completely disrupting S.H.I.E.L.D..'s plans.
Fury knew that with the current resources of S.H.I.E.L.D.., they simply couldn't suppress these two lawless bastards.
Therefore, he placed his hopes on this newly awakened World War II hero.
Captain America, the embodiment of justice, a moral exemplar.
Most importantly, Captain America is also Howard Stark's good friend.
Therefore, once Captain America wakes up, with his prestige and leadership, he will definitely be able to establish the Avengers.
This way, the Stark brothers can be taught a lesson about how to behave.
"Let the nurses go in and prepare," Fury ordered.
The ward door was pushed open, and a young female agent dressed in a World War II-era nurse's uniform walked in and stood quietly in front of the bed.
Time passed second by second.
Suddenly, the man on the hospital bed twitched his fingers slightly.
Immediately afterwards, Steve Rogers suddenly opened his eyes.
Surprisingly, there was no confusion in the other person's eyes, only a wary and fierce glint.
The next second, Steve sat up abruptly from the bed, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings like a knife before finally settling on the nurse.
As planned, the nurse gave a sweet and reassuring smile.
Good morning, Captain. How are you feeling?
Steve frowned, his rugged face full of impatience.
Then he opened his mouth and uttered his first words after waking up.
"Damn it, can anyone tell me where the hell is this?"
The nurse's smile froze instantly.
Then he stared at the other person with wide eyes, completely bewildered.
What's going on?
Is this Captain America?
The information says Captain America is a moral paragon who doesn't even swear.
So, what's up with this guy who's spewing nonsense?!
The bewildered nurse looked completely blank, unsure of what to say next.
"Sir... this is a rehabilitation hospital. You've been frozen in ice for a long time..." the nurse stammered, reciting her lines from the script.
Steve sneered, threw off the covers, and stepped barefoot onto the floor.
His tall and imposing figure exuded an extremely strong sense of oppression as he walked step by step to the nurse, looking down at her.
"You fucking idiot, don't even think about lying to me." Steve's voice was low and hoarse, filled with sarcasm.
"Damn Hydra, they're not even good at lying."
The nurse took a step back in fright, her face turning pale.
"Captain, I'm not lying to you, we really are..."
"Shut your filthy mouth, you little bitch," Steve interrupted her rudely.
He then turned around, strode to the bedside table, and grabbed the radio that was playing a baseball game.
"You think you can fool me with some lousy radio broadcast?" Steve pointed at the radio and cursed.
"That fucking awful match was one I watched in May 1941 with my damn brother Bucky! And I was fucking there, you know?!"
"Bang!"
Steve slammed the radio against the wall, smashing it to pieces.
Outside the door, Fury and Coulson were completely dumbfounded.
Even the Captain America card in Coulson's hand fell to the ground.
He felt his faith crumble.
This isn't Captain America at all.
He's nothing but a foul-mouthed street thug!
Fury's single eye twitched violently.
He knew that the plan had completely failed.
This guy doesn't play by the rules at all.
"Let the nurses come out first," Fury said coldly, pressing his earpiece.
In the ward, the nurse, feeling as if she had been granted a pardon, quickly turned and ran out of the room.
Fury straightened his leather jacket, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door to the ward before going inside.
He decided to take matters into his own hands and use the authority of the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. to subdue this old relic who had just awakened.
" Captain Rogers."
Fury put his hands behind his back and spoke in a low voice.
"I know all of this is hard for you to accept. But you must understand, the war is over. You are now..."
Steve turned his head, his gaze landing on Fury's dark face.
The next second, his brows furrowed into a tight knot, his eyes filled with undisguised disgust and contempt.
"Damn cotton machine, where the hell is your damn boss? Get him here!"
The ward fell silent instantly.
Cotton machine?!
Fury stared wide-eyed, his face filled with disbelief.
He, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.., the king of spies, was actually called a cotton machine to his face by some old relic just dug out of the ice?!
Fury was furious, but he forcibly suppressed the urge to draw his gun.
He kept telling himself that this was a person from the 1940s.
Racial discrimination was very serious in that era, and he couldn't argue with an old fogey.
"I'm the boss here," Fury said through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word.
Upon hearing this, Steve actually laughed.
He laughed very loudly, and his laughter was full of mockery.
"Don't fucking make me laugh."
Steve walked up to Fury, his tall frame almost touching Fury's face.
"Back in our day, this damn cotton machine was only good for working in the fields; it wasn't even fit to carry my shoes."
Steve stuck out a finger and poked Fury's chest hard.
"And don't look at me like that. Your self-righteous smugness is as disgusting as those prostitutes on the streets of Brooklyn. No, those bitches have more feelings than you; at least they'll moan a couple of times if you pay them."
Fury's lips twitched violently.
He swore that if the person in front of him wasn't Captain America, he would have immediately ordered the bastard to be riddled with bullets.
Coulson, standing outside the door, covered his face in despair.
It's over.
It's all over.
His perfect idol was not only a foul-mouthed ragester, but also a complete racist.
" Captain Rogers, please show some respect." Fury, barely containing his anger, pointed out the window.
You'd better look around for yourself. Times have changed.
Steve snorted, shoved Fury aside, and strode to the window.
He smashed the windowpane with his fist and leaned out.
What comes into view is the bustling, modern cityscape of Washington, D.C.. at night.
Towering skyscrapers, a constant stream of cars...
All of this was completely different from the war-torn era he remembered.
Steve stood by the window, silent for a long time.
The night wind ruffled his thick beard, and the fierce glint in his eyes gradually faded.
He finally realized that he had truly entered a completely unfamiliar world.
"So I fucking slept for a full seventy years."
Steve turned around, his tone becoming somewhat low, but he still couldn't shake off the profanity.
Fury secretly breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Steve had finally calmed down.
"Yes, Captain. You've been asleep for seventy years. The world needs you..."
"Shut up, you bastard." Steve interrupted Fury's speech without any politeness.
"Don't try to lecture me with your high-sounding nonsense. I've already shed enough blood for this country."
Steve walked to the bedside and plopped down on it.
"Get me some food first, you bastard. I'm so hungry I could eat a whole cow."
Fury took a deep breath and nodded toward the door.
Soon, Coulson came in carrying a tray.
His expression was very complex, showing both nervousness in front of his idol and the helplessness of a shattered dream.
On the plate were several steaming hot cheeseburgers and a glass of cola.
"Captain, this is something from the new era—a cheeseburger."
Coulson carefully placed the plate on the table.
The reason I spoke up was to try to ease the tension and, incidentally, to give this old fogey a lesson in modern knowledge.
"To help you adapt to the new world as quickly as possible, we've prepared a lot of information for you. Now, we have many new technologies, such as WiFi for wireless internet access; computers for processing large amounts of data; and mobile phones..."
Steve completely ignored Coulson's incessant chatter.
He grabbed a hamburger, tore open the wrapper, and took a big bite.
The rich gravy and cheese burst in his mouth, and he chewed with satisfaction.
After swallowing the food in his mouth, he raised his head.
Then he looked at Coulson, who was still trying to explain modern technology, and smiled.
"Alright, stop talking nonsense. You're actually quite funny."
Steve pointed at Coulson's nose and mercilessly exposed him.
"You made up those words."
Coulson's words came to an abrupt halt.
He stared blankly at Steve, opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.
Fury stood to the side, closing his eyes in anguish.
He is now seriously doubting whether digging out this foul-mouthed bastard was the right decision.
This Captain America will definitely become the biggest problem in S.H.I.E.L.D..'s history.