General Administration of Scientific Research, Laboratory.
Cold mist is billowing out from inside the liquid nitrogen storage tank.
Dr. Horton held the tube of dark green, active blood in both hands, marveling at it.
Sinclair leaned close to the glass table, staring at the cells rapidly dividing in the thermostat, his eyes gleaming with fervor.
In the corner, Samuel Stern, whose hood had just been removed, hunched over, staring dumbfounded at the cutting-edge equipment.
" Mr. Morris, this is simply a miracle of the Creator!"
Horton raised the test tube towards the surveillance camera and exclaimed excitedly:
"This Gamma Radiation- induced gene mutation is ten times more radical than Erskine's original manuscript!"
Lynn's voice came through. " Dr. Sterns will be under your command from now on."
"I've made gamma genes a core component of the next phase of the supervillain production line. I need a batch of custom-made monsters that can be deployed to the streets at any time, yet also be killed by Vought heroes at any time."
"Clear!"
Lynn disconnected the communication and looked at the documents that Ada Wong had handed him on the table.
That was the complete list of names in the Shadow Audit Project, which was uncovered last night by Motoko Kusanagi.
The paper listed twelve names, all of whom were Nick Fury's moles planted in Allies Intelligence Office and the Congressional Budget Committee.
There are also seven secret liaison offices located in military intelligence, Congress, and Wall Street.
Lynn picked up a red pen and casually drew a big X on the list.
This one-eyed bastard not only overreached, but also dared to try and find out what was going on with Vought's company. Did he really think the company was just for show?
If these Haozi are allowed to continue running around the Pentagon and Capitol Hill, the progress of receiving the military's defense budget will inevitably be sabotaged by others.
It's better to uproot them all at once.
Nina Williams stood ramrod straight at her desk, staring at the list marked with a red cross.
Lynn looked at his trusted confidant, who never disappointed him.
"You have full control and resources. Eliminate these seven liaison stations within three days."
"Clear."
Nina nodded slightly, asked no further questions, and turned to leave the office.
After the door closed, Ada Wong stepped forward and casually replaced Lynn's cup of hot coffee.
"Boss, everything's taken care of with Thaddeus Ross."
Ada had a faint smile on her lips.
"At six o'clock this morning, the old general was admitted to the intensive care unit of the private army hospital owned by Vought Holdings due to a sudden acute myocardial infarction."
"Without your authorization, not even a fly could get in to visit."
What about Congress?
Lynn picked up her coffee and took a sip.
"Five core members of the Military Committee accepted our political donations last night."
" Hans Landa showed them a backup of the military's secret ledger, and now these five gentlemen are more eager than anyone for Vought to provide them with safe haven."
Lynn put down her cup with satisfaction.
Thaddeus Ross's political legacy, built up over decades of military service, has now all gone into Vought's pocket, skin and bones.
10:00 AM, Washington Intelligence Service branch building.
Nina, who had already obtained official political status, entered the confidential archives room on the second basement floor wearing a military uniform and carrying the credentials of an internal disciplinary inspector.
In the archives, two examiners who were destroying microfilm stopped what they were doing.
One of them recognized Nina and reached for his sidearm at his waist with his right hand.
"Commander Williams? At this time..."
Nina didn't respond and simply closed the door.
The two double agents' expressions changed drastically, and they simultaneously drew their guns and raised their hands.
Nina was much faster than them.
She stepped forward with her left foot, kicking the man's knee with her military boot.
The agent screamed and fell to one knee. Using the force of the other man drawing his gun and charging forward, Nina slammed the two of them together.
With both hands gripping the throats and jaws of the two men, a simultaneous cracking sound of cervical vertebrae dislocating rang out.
Nina glanced down at the corpse, straightened her collar, and pressed the internal call button on the wall.
"Medical team, notify the cleaning team to come to Archives Room 2. Two colleagues have suffered acute cerebral hemorrhage due to overwork."
3 PM, Queens, New York.
Outside an old dry cleaning shop with a "Closed" sign hanging above it, the clouds hung low.
Inside the safe house behind the dry cleaner, four S.H.I.E.L.D.. field agents were anxiously calling out to each other around a radio.
"Damn it, our undercover agents in Washington..."
Before the agent could finish speaking, the skylight overhead shattered.
Gin descended from the sky, throwing out two smoke bombs mid-air.
"In the middle! Fire!"
The agent had just raised his weapon when a dagger flashed coldly through the smoke.
The agent at the front felt a chill on his neck, and warm blood gushed out.
Gin seized the weapon from his hand, turned it around, and fired two bursts, piercing the forehead of another agent ten paces away.
The remaining two tried to escape, but Gin had already leaped into the air using the edge of the table, grabbed one of them by the neck with his legs and slammed him to the ground. The dagger in his right hand flew out of his hand and pierced the heart of the last person.
The gunfire inside the house completely ceased.
Gin pulled out his dagger, wiped the blood off the victim's clothes, and disappeared from the room.
The Triskelion in Washington, D. C.
Nick Fury's single eye was bloodshot.
In just one day, all the agents and secret liaisons he had painstakingly planted in the singing organization over the past ten years went missing or died in various absurd accidents.
"OMG Fuck!"
Maria Hill strode over, carrying a fax that had just arrived from the Pentagon.
"Chief."
"Ten minutes ago, the Congressional Military Committee held an emergency closed-door hearing and unanimously passed the latest defense resolution."
Fury, his face grim, grabbed the fax and glanced at it, his eyelids twitching violently.
The resolution states it very clearly:
In light of General Ross's unauthorized high-risk biological experiments that led to the Brooklyn tragedy, the military and S.H.I.E.L.D.. are hereby stripped of their independent authority over Superman events within the United States. All related defense and oversight powers are transferred to the Vought International Bureau of Superhuman Affairs and the Strategic Department.
"These treacherous politicians might as well just hand over the keys to the Pentagon to Lynn Morris!"
Fury gritted his teeth and crumpled the fax into a ball.
An alarm sounded on the main screen on the desk, and an anonymous video, redirected through multiple layers of botnet servers, forcibly switched in.
The camera zooms in, focusing on the body of the S.H.I.E.L.D.. Level 7 field team leader.
Beside Cole's chest, a double-headed eagle and skull badge lay quietly in the mud, accompanied by a line of cursive English subtitles below the video:
Keep an eye on the mice in your house; the one-eyed rats and the Shocker have already crawled onto your bedside.
Hill gasped. " Team Leader Cole is Shocker's men?"
Fury stared intently at the badge, his chest heaving.
What utter nonsense about Shocker penetration!
Lynn Morris not only chopped off his claws one by one in front of him, but also conveniently pinned the blame for treason on the Deadman.
Unfortunately, these covert surveillance devices were all illegal, clandestine wiretapping projects.
If he dares to cause trouble at Congress now, tomorrow he, as the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.., will have to go to a military court to serve time in jail with Thaddeus Ross for illegally monitoring members of Congress and condoning Shocker's espionage!
No, Thaddeus Ross might not even have the chance to go to jail.
Fury leaned on the edge of the table and closed his eyes.
Inside a private room at a Michelin three-star restaurant in Manhattan.
Ada Wong, dressed in a black evening gown, raised her wine glass and lightly clinked it against the gray-haired chairman of the Congressional Military Committee opposite her.
"It was a pleasure working with you, Senator Thomson."
Ada took a sip of red wine and put the three-year national Superman defense outsourcing contract, totaling a staggering $30 billion, that she had just signed on the table into her briefcase.
Dealing with Vought International is much more comfortable than dealing with that stubborn old man Thaddeus Ross.
Senator Thomson, beaming, said, "From now on, the reputation of law and order in New York and even the whole of America will depend on Mr. Morris."
Meanwhile, deep underground in Hell's Kitchen.
The lid of the black stone coffin, engraved with serpentine runes and weighing several tons, was shattered into countless fragments from the inside by immense force.
The assassins were so frightened that they scrambled backward.
From the churning black mud, a pale hand covered with dark red veins emerged.
Matthew Murdock, shirtless, walked step by step out of the thick black mud.
The shattered lumbar vertebrae have long since healed completely.
He looked up, his unfocused, blind eyes bloodshot.