The wind was still blowing, and the clanging of the tin roof grew louder and louder, as if someone was dragging it back and forth on Iron Chain.
Ye Mo didn't open his eyes, his palm pressed against the temple of the glasses, the heat seeping into his bones through the metal. He could feel his nerves trembling—not from fear, but from being too tense, like a bowstring stretched to its limit. The footsteps he had just heard were not an illusion, nor were they the wind, but a real, rhythmic stomping, two in front and one behind, slowly circling the outer wall of the stronghold.
He calmed his breathing and sank his consciousness into the twentieth level of the " Gene Spiral Tower." Spatial Perception and Fragment Scanning were still running, but the data was a jumbled mess, like a network cable chewed by a dog. Electromagnetic waves, residual heat sources, ground vibrations... everything was mixed together, making it impossible to distinguish which was the enemy and which was interference.
But he knew he wasn't looking for a person, he was looking for a signal.
The reverse pulse at the end of the previous chapter passed through the S.H.I.E.L.D.. emergency channel node, and the final handshake protocol was the internal network authentication process. Emma Frost said the traces were cleared, so cleanly it didn't seem like a temporary operation, but rather like a pre-set escape door. Now that door has probably reopened.
" Emma Frost." His lips barely moved, the voice squeezed out between his teeth, "Do you remember that series of frequency jumps? The one where you noticed the signal was off?"
Emma Frost didn't open her eyes, but her finger moved slightly, drawing a short horizontal line and a dot on the ground.
It means: Remember, but don't say anything.
Her mental energy shrank to the size of a needle, probing outwards close to the floor, afraid to venture too far lest she be caught in the opposite direction. But Ye Mo understood her meaning—she was waiting for his next move.
He closed his eyes, replaying the previous fluctuation curves in his mind. Emergency channels are usually only activated during crises, and Hydra's use of an older protocol indicates that they are connected to a legacy system. Anyone who can access this port is either a defector or someone with the necessary privileges.
Permissions are often hidden in the most inconspicuous places.
He tried to focus his perception on the encrypted frequency band commonly used by the logistics dispatch center. This area, which normally manages material allocation, vehicle entry and exit, and power distribution, may seem like an administrative post, but in reality, it controls the entire base's operational rhythm. It's the ideal cover for anyone wanting to secretly send messages.
Regenerative Phasing was still in standby mode, the aftershocks of energy humming in his nerve endings. He used this stinging sensation to forcibly enhance his sensory acuity, like sanding a lens.
One second, two seconds...
Suddenly, a faint data jump flashed by.
It's disguised very well as a system self-test; the frequency, waveform, and duration all match, but there's one detail that's off—its response is delayed by 0.3 seconds. A normal self-test wouldn't lag unless it's manually triggered and then wrapped in a shell.
Ye Mo's heart tightened.
The source points to the S.H.I.E.L.D. dispatch center, the coordinates are locked, and the job number is L-7, which is one of the key nodes.
He tapped the seam of his trousers three times long and two times short with his right hand.
Captain America noticed immediately.
The shield's edge was slightly raised, revealing the flickering green flames outside the window, before a "disconnection" gesture was made—all wireless devices were completely offline.
Bucky's robotic arm's listening module switched to silent mode, his knuckles snapped shut, and the blade on his left arm silently popped out. He slid into the shadows behind the west-facing window, his breath mingling with the sound of the wind.
Emma Frost's forehead was beaded with sweat, and her mental energy network shrank to only five meters in range, floating like a thin mist close to the ground. She dared not expand the scan, fearing that the other party would use this clue to turn the tables and bite her back.
The room was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.
But at this moment--
The green flame outside suddenly exploded!
Flames shot into the sky, and the serpentine symbol twisted and expanded, as if someone had slammed on the gas pedal. Immediately afterward, a muffled thud came from the east wall, and dust fell down in a flurry.
It's not the wind.
It was the directional charges that detonated.
With a loud bang, half of the east wall collapsed, bricks and stones flew everywhere, and dust rose more than a meter high. A few seconds later, two smoke bombs were flung down from the ventilation shaft, and white mist instantly filled the passage.
Worse still, instead of launching a frontal assault, the Hydra team attacked simultaneously from three directions, their movements as precise as if they were following a blueprint. They avoided the tripwire traps Ye Mo had set up, bypassed Captain America's ambush points, and didn't even trigger Emma Frost's psychological warning circle—because they didn't even get close.
"Damn it!" Ye Mo cursed under his breath, his back slamming against the corner of the wall. "They knew the layout!"
Captain America swiftly moved to the central corridor, kicking over a fallen pillar to create makeshift cover. His eyes were icy cold. "The plan has been leaked. We're no longer the hunters."
Emma Frost gritted her teeth, her mental energy forced to contract to its limit. She could sense the enemy's location, but they were moving too fast, completely disrupting her rhythm. She wanted to send a warning, but as soon as she sent out a slight signal, her brain twitched—the enemy had a countermeasure device specifically designed to detect leaks of mental energy.
"Stop sweeping." Ye Mo tapped the ground twice with his finger. "Use it sparingly; they brought hunting dog equipment."
Emma Frost nodded, her fingertips digging into her palm, forcefully suppressing her probing desire.
Bucky crouched behind the window, the mechanical arm joints emitting a faint calibration sound. He stared in the direction of the ventilation shaft, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints. Just a moment ago, he saw a tactical unit pause for half a second at the corner, as if receiving instructions.
"They're waiting for a signal," he whispered. "They're not acting independently."
Ye Mo immediately understood.
The mole not only leaked information but also updated the coordinates in real time.
He closed his eyes again, and his Spatial Perception was activated once more. The Shockwave from the explosion still lingered in the air, causing severe interference, but he couldn't care less. He stared intently at the frequency of the logistics dispatch center, and sure enough, another wave of disguised self-test signals leaked out—the same source, the same delay, 0.3 seconds.
"They're still sending them out." His voice was hoarse. "At the L-7 post, someone is acting as a living relay."
Captain America's face darkened. He knew what this meant—they were no longer just surrounded, but being broadcast live. Every move, every change of position, would be transmitted instantly.
"Abandon the baiting strategy," he decisively ordered. "Everyone, switch to a defensive posture, build a defensive line using the ruins, and don't reveal too many movements."
Before he could finish speaking, a series of hurried footsteps came from the west side.
Three Hydra agents crouched low and rushed in, their tactical lights sweeping across the ruins, their guns aimed directly at the spot where Captain America had just stood—but there was no one there anymore.
They didn't even waste time searching; they turned and moved toward the new bunker.
"Holy crap!" Ye Mo almost jumped up. "They even know how many steps you moved!"
Captain America didn't say anything, but lowered his shield, obscuring half his face. He drew an X on the shield with his hand, meaning: Don't move anymore, or you'll be locked down.
Sweat beaded on Ye Mo's forehead. The Regenerative Phasing energy was still circulating, but he dared not make a rash move. He knew that the greatest danger now was not the guns outside, but the unseen "eye" inside.
He had to track the trajectory of that signal.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to maintain his senses, his nerves feeling like they were being slowly ground through by a drill. His vision blurred, his nose burned, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. But in the next second, he sensed it again—
The third leak signal.
This time it was clearer, and the data packet was larger than the previous two, as if it were sending some kind of confirmation message. The path still passed through the emergency channel, the destination was blurry, but the starting point was clear: Logistics Dispatch Center L-7.
"Damn it..." He wiped his mouth and cursed under his breath, "This bastard's pretty dedicated, he even clocks in after each job."
Emma Frost opened her eyes, glanced at him, and her eyes were full of warning: Don't push yourself.
But Ye Mo didn't back down.
He knew that as long as this man kept sending signals, they would always be on the defensive. Even holding out for just one more minute meant the enemy could send in another squad. They had to break this cycle.
"Captain," he drew three lines on the ground with his fingernail, "I can trace back, but I need a complete data handshake."
Captain America turned around, his eyes sharp.
Ye Mo made a "wait" gesture and nodded his head—he was gambling that the traitor would send another signal, and that the system hadn't upgraded its anti-detection program yet.
Time ticked by, second by second.
The Hydra squad outside began their advance, cautious yet with a clear objective. They weren't in a rush to launch a full-scale assault, but rather slowly compressed the area of operation, clearly waiting for further instructions.
Suddenly, a soft sound came from the direction of the ventilation shaft.
It wasn't footsteps, but the sound of some electronic device starting up.
Ye Mo's eyelids twitched.
They've arrived.
He immediately focused all his senses on the L-7 band. Sure enough, another wave of fake self-test signals was transmitted—this time it was more complete than any before, almost like a naked data packet.
He caught him!
His nerves felt like they were being pierced by a high-voltage current; the excruciating pain almost made him cry out. But he gritted his teeth and memorized the waveform. Although he couldn't reverse-engineer the terminal, he at least confirmed the transmission pattern: once every 90 seconds, with a 0.3-second delay, using old-style frequency hopping obfuscation, but with a fixed handshake mechanism.
"Found it." He panted, tapping the ground four short times and one long time. "The pattern has been confirmed: once every minute and a half, with a fixed delay, it can be predicted."
Captain America immediately realized what was happening.
He raised his hand and drew a triangle on the shield, meaning: when the next signal is given, Bucky will create interference, Ye Mo will try to intercept it from the opposite direction, and he and Emma Frost will provide cover.
Just as the plan was finalized, two people suddenly rushed out of the smoke on the east side, wielding pulse guns and firing directly at Emma Frost's location.
"Dowdress!" Ye Mo roared, lunging forward to pull her down.
Two beams of blue light grazed overhead and struck the back wall, instantly carbonizing and cracking the entire wall.
"They know she's here!" Ye Mo rolled over and leaned against the wall, his chest heaving. "This isn't a test anymore; it's a targeted elimination!"
Captain America hurled his shield, its arc cutting through the smoke and knocking an agent to the ground. He seized the opportunity to leap up, snatch back the shield, and roared, "Everyone, don't stand still! Switch positions randomly, don't move according to habit!"
But they all knew in their hearts that their habits had long been seen through.
Who likes to lean against which wall at which time, who instinctively shrinks into which corner after being injured, and even who unconsciously touches their ears when nervous... all these details were secretly recorded by the "insider" hiding in the logistics room and then passed on.
The trust has collapsed.
Not at each other, but at the system.
They once thought S.H.I.E.L.D.. was a fortress, only to find that the walls had long since crumbled. Now, they can only rely on their own flesh and blood to eke out a living battle on a battlefield being broadcast live.
Ye Mo leaned against the east corner of the wall, still clutching the broken temple of the glasses in his hand. His palm was burning hot, as if it could burn through his skin at any moment. He closed his eyes, letting his senses continue to operate, waiting for the next signal to activate.
He knew the real battle was yet to begin.
The real enemy is not outside.
Meanwhile, in a quiet office, someone was sitting in a chair, drinking coffee, watching the screen, waiting for their next move.
Then, press the send button.