Motoko Kusanagi placed a document on Lynn's desk.
The above is an assessment report on Barbara Minerva.
"Through observation and training, the target has basically grasped the concept of obedience."
Motoko Kusanagi's voice remained as steady as ever.
"But her inner wildness and untamed nature have only been suppressed, not eradicated; she is an unstable weapon."
"An unstable weapon can only be most effective when used in the right place."
Lynn tapped the report lightly with her finger, her gaze falling on Barbara's exotic passport photo.
"It's time to let her go out and see the light of day, get some sunshine."
He looked at Motoko Kusanagi.
What has Peggy Carter been up to lately?
"Preparations for S.H.I.E.L.D.. are nearing completion. She is leveraging Howard Stark's funds and General Phillips's connections to recruit extraordinary individuals globally for this new agency."
"According to intelligence, she will be at the Metropolis Museum next Wednesday at 3 PM to meet with an intelligence broker codenamed ' The Scholar ' to investigate a group of Hydra remnants who escaped from Europe."
"Very well, then let's arrange a chance encounter."
New York.
The Metropolis Museum.
Peggy Carter, dressed in an elegant women's trench coat, strolled slowly through the Egyptian pavilion, pretending to admire the exhibits.
The Shadow of her hat brim obscured most of her face, making her look like an art student who had come here seeking inspiration.
Out of the corner of her eye, she kept her eyes fixed on a man wearing a top hat not far away.
Just as she was about to step forward and use the agreed-upon code to make contact.
A magnetic female voice with a slight British accent sounded beside her.
"This exhibit is a fake."
Peggy tensed up, but outwardly just turned her head naturally.
A tall, elegant woman with a unique presence was standing beside her.
The woman had long, flaxen-colored curly hair.
His amber eyes seemed to see right through people.
She pointed with certainty to a statue of Bast, the cat god, in the glass case.
"The real statue of Bast was bought by a private collector in 1938 and has not been seen since."
"Its base should have had a line of sacrificial inscriptions carved in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, but this one does not."
Peggy was somewhat surprised.
She wasn't an archaeology expert, but she could sense the confidence in the woman in front of her.
Who are you?
" Barbara Minerva, an unknown figure with some knowledge of history."
Barbara smiled at her, a smile with a wild charm.
Just then, something unexpected happened!
Suddenly, a piercing alarm sounded inside the museum!
Several thugs wearing Joker masks suddenly sprang from among the tourists, their automatic weapons spitting fire and sending shards of stone flying from the ceiling.
The crowd erupted into hysterical chaos.
The bandits had a clear target: several of the museum's most prized possessions.
Peggy reacted immediately.
She pulled a pistol from her handbag, ready to retaliate.
But Barbara beside her was faster!
The Scholar elegance faded from Barbara's amber eyes.
The woman who was just moments ago languid and alluring has transformed into a female leopard that has locked onto its prey!
One of the thugs noticed the women's striking beauty, grinned maliciously, and pointed his gun at Peggy.
"Go to hell, little girl!"
"Bang!"
No shots were fired.
A blur, too fast for the naked eye to catch, flashed by.
Barbara's figure had already appeared in front of the group of bandits.
Her hand chopped into the man's neck, and the thug collapsed to the ground without uttering a sound.
Her movements were elegant, deadly, and possessed a primal beauty!
Peggy's pupils contracted sharply.
This was a fighting technique she had never seen before.
Barbara didn't stop.
Her body moved between the crowd and the display cases.
With each strike, a bandit fell to the ground.
She didn't kill anyone.
But every one of the fallen bandits was incapacitated.
In just thirty seconds.
She easily resolved an armed robbery all by herself.
When the police arrived, they only saw a group of groaning robbers on the ground and a woman adjusting her skirt.
Peggy walked over and looked at her with a complicated expression.
"Miss Minerva, who exactly are you?"
Barbara turned around, the terrifying glint in her eyes fading, and she transformed back into the charming Scholar.
She licked her lips and gave a helpless, bitter smile.
"A... cursed person."
This answer, instead of dispelling Peggy's doubts, piqued her even more interest.
A Scholar with extensive knowledge.
A mysterious woman whose skills rival those of a top-tier secret agent.
A person who claims to be "cursed".
Isn't this exactly the perfect candidate, the kind of person who defies convention, that she's been searching for for S.H.I.E.L.D..?
"We can find a place and have a proper talk."
Peggy extended the invitation.
"About your curse, and... a future where you can unleash your talents."
Barbara looked at her, a flicker of hesitation and wariness in her eyes.
She finally nodded.
"Good."
Lynn witnessed everything through surveillance cameras.
A perfect nail was thus laid.
June 25, 1950
An invisible line stretching across the Korean Peninsula was ignited by the flames of war.
The shadow of war looms over the world.
The news reached the United States.
The Pentagon immediately called the president's office at Vought International.
The call was made personally by General Chester Phillips.
His tone was firm and urgent.
" Lynn, the country needs them."
"We need Soldier Boy and Human Torch to go to the Far East; this is the President's order."
Lynn leaned back in his office chair, fiddling with a fountain pen.
"General, I think you've made a mistake."
"They are artists signed to Vought International, not assets of the Department of Defense."
"Their commercial endorsement contracts are already booked until the end of next year. Any unilateral breach of contract would result in tens of millions of dollars in direct economic losses for Vought International, as well as incalculable damage to its brand value."
"Does the Department of Defense intend to pay this money?"
General Phillips on the other end of the phone was speechless.
Signed artists?
Commercial contracts?
That bastard, he actually used that kind of excuse to brush him off!
" Lynn Morris! This is not a business negotiation! This is war!"
"Phillips roared."
"Precisely because it is war, I am even more responsible for my assets."
Lynn's voice turned cold.
"In the last war, they shed enough blood for this country."
"Now, peace is hard-won, and they have the right to enjoy the sun and sand, not to go to the quagmire of a foreign country and serve the ambitions of politicians."
"You..."
"Beep... beep... beep..."
Lynn hung up the phone immediately.
A week later, the door to Lynn's office was kicked open.
The Soldier Boy, reeking of alcohol, burst in, his handsome face contorted with rage and bewilderment.
"Why?!"
He slammed a newspaper onto Lynn's desk; the front page headline was about the outbreak of the Korean War.
"The country needs me! Why are you refusing?!"