Chapter 19: Shock Your Heart - Part 3

I face the man standing before me—Captain America.

Captain America.
Real name: Steve Rogers.
One of the most well-known characters in the world of Marvel Comics.

During World War II, he became a super-soldier after being administered the same "Super Soldier Serum" that transformed my body. Back then, he was already a proud man who valued "freedom," "equality," and "peace" above all else. Yet his body was weak and frail. It was his upright character that earned him a place in the "Super Soldier Program."

There, he was injected with the "Super Soldier Serum" and gained a powerful physique.
…The serum, however, has a side effect: it amplifies the recipient’s emotions and inner nature. Even the slightest malicious intent could twist someone into a monster. But Steve was different. His body might have been frail, but his heart was "purer than anyone’s."

That’s why he wasn’t consumed by darkness. Instead, he gained a powerful body and became Captain America.

…By the way, that very "Super Soldier Program" ended up being unrepeatable. The scientist who created the serum, Dr. Erskine, was killed during the war. After that, no one could recreate the serum.

But even so, the idea of creating enhanced soldiers remained enticing. Though the exact methods and technologies changed, the philosophy endured. That’s why the origins of so many heroes—and villains—can be traced back to that same ideal.

…Including the "counterfeit Super Soldier Serum" injected into me.

Mine was manufactured by Power Broker Inc., a company that attempted to recreate Dr. Erskine’s original serum.

In other words, Captain America is the genuine article. I’m just a fake.

…And he’s stronger than me. Tougher, too. That’s all there is to it.

Physically, he appears to be in his late twenties to early thirties. The serum slows his aging. In reality, he’s nearly a hundred years old.

Even through his suit, I can see his lean, muscular build.

I glance toward Shocker, who’s trembling beside me.

“H-hey… wh-what do we do…? Nobody told me we’d be up against the Avengers…!”

The Avengers. The strongest team of heroes on Earth, formed to protect the world from overwhelming threats. Captain America. Iron Man. Mighty Thor. Black Widow. Hawkeye. The core members might stay the same, but many other superheroes have joined their ranks.

Peter… This world’s Spider-Man… He’s not part of the team, but he has worked with them before. I remember hearing Nick Fury, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.—the international peacekeeping organization that oversees the Avengers—mention it in an interview.

The Avengers—the team villains fear most in the world.
And standing right in front of me is their leader: Captain America.

“Don’t be so scared, Shocker. It’s just him… and one injured spy.”

I speak those words to rally both Shocker—and myself.

To be honest… I probably can’t beat Captain America, even if it’s just him alone. If I ran at full speed… maybe. That’s the level of threat we’re dealing with.

But I’m still an agent of the organization. Deserting mid-mission would be considered betrayal, punishable by death. If the bomb in my chest detonated, even the serum running through my veins wouldn’t save me.

…Peter’s face flashes through my mind.

I activate the protector on my left calf and draw my knife. The other one… I threw at Widow earlier. So this is the last blade I’ve got.

Tight.
I grip the knife tight.

I need to steal that Life Foundation attaché case Widow’s holding.
That’s the top priority.
Once I’ve got it, there’s no reason to fight them.
I just need to escape.

Victory doesn’t require destroying the enemy. In this hellish situation, that fact alone feels like my only hope.

“What’s your name?”

The sudden question catches me off guard.
It’s from Captain America himself.

Beneath my mask, I scowl.

“No reason to tell you.”

I know what he’s trying to do: buy time. I saw it earlier when Widow injected herself with something. Probably some cutting-edge medicine developed with tech I don’t know about.

He’s trying to stall until it kicks in and she can fight again.

I speak to Shocker beside me.

“Shocker. Once I engage him… steal the attaché case from Widow.”

“Wh-what? Are you serious? I know you’re Red Cap, but… that’s the Avengers…!”

His voice trembles with fear.

“…I see. So you’re called Red Cap.”

Captain America nods as if he’s made sense of something.

“Tch.”

I might be secretly happy that a hero I admire knows my name, but… this is no time for that.

And if the Avengers share intel about me, moving around will only get harder.

I’m not strong enough to take on an entire hero team.
Please… don’t spread my name.

There’s no benefit. Only risk.

“What a coincidence. I’m called ‘Cap’ too.”

I know.

I’m your fan, after all.

But that didn’t mean I intended to keep talking. I raised my knife—that alone was my answer.

Seeing that, Captain shifted his stance and raised his shield.

Captain America’s shield.
That thing was forged using every last scrap of vibranium that existed domestically during the war—a pure 100% vibranium shield.

It was created by Howard Stark, the father of Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man.

Its vibranium purity is higher than the plating of my armor suit.

Which means its shock absorption capacity is on a completely different level.

When two vibranium objects collide, their shock-absorbing properties cancel each other out, allowing them to damage one another like ordinary metal.
In other words, his higher-purity vibranium shield could easily damage me, even through my armor.

I positioned my knife-wielding left hand forward, my right hand held back.
Turning my body sideways, rather than facing him head-on.

Then—lowering my back leg slightly—I kicked off the ground.

A sound like the air itself being ripped apart.
The tip of my knife raced toward Captain’s body.

In an instant, he deflected it with his shield, and I followed that momentum into a sidestep.

That shield’s vibranium. My knife? Carbon-based synthetic alloy.

If I forced a direct clash, my knife would shatter.

So I absorbed the shock through my arm and dispersed it through my body.

I thrust again—another strike blocked by the shield.

“Shocker! Get that attaché case, now!”

My shout jolted Shocker from his stupor, and he bolted toward Widow. She—looking like the critical injuries from earlier were a lie—stood up, grabbed the case, and took off.

Captain and I both caught that in the edges of our vision.
But neither of us took our eyes off the weapons in each other’s hands.

“…What’s wrong? Not going after her?”

“I trust Natasha. Besides…”

Captain lowered his stance.

“…You don’t look weak enough that I can afford to take my eyes off you.”

I raised my knife and swept it sideways.

It missed—on purpose.

Just as Captain braced to block the blade, expecting an attack, I spun.
Using my right foot as a pivot, I unleashed a spinning kick.

At the moment my foot struck the rim of his shield, I hooked one of the projections from my leg armor onto it.

Pushing off the ground with my pivot foot, I jumped backward.

Captain, who had braced to block my blade by angling his shield outward, now had his shield tugged away from him by my momentum pulling outward.

Force met force. The shield ripped from his grip and went spinning through the air.

I immediately tried to correct my posture, knife lunging forward—

But before I could, the back of Captain’s hand struck my knife aside.

“…Tch.”

What should’ve been a decisive blow was denied. I clicked my tongue despite myself.

He’d completely read my attack.

A knife thrust follows three phases: draw back, thrust, tear.

Captain had intercepted me during the draw back phase.

I adjusted my grip on the deflected knife and lashed out several more times.

Thrust. Slash. Tear. Each attempt was stopped just before landing.

Useless.

Realizing that, I raised my knife high, preparing to swing down with all my strength.

Captain noticed too, raising his arms to block high.

I dropped the knife from my right hand.

The knife fell—turning my right hand into a blade-like strike, which Captain blocked.

At the same moment, I stamped down on the knife’s pommel with the tip of my foot.

The knife, pivoting off its guard, flipped up into the air.

“Got you…!”

I caught it with my left hand in a reverse grip, and drove it straight for Captain’s abdomen.

But he shifted both arms downward from his overhead guard, and kicked off the ground with his right leg.

With his elbow and knee, he caught the blade—pinning it between them.

“I was caught off guard earlier, but a cheap shot won’t work twice.”

Twisting his body, he knocked the knife from my grip.

Now, we were both unarmed.

I still had a handgun at my waist… but there’s no way Captain would just stand there and let me draw and fire at this range.

I lashed out with clawed fingers, using the armor’s extensions like blades.
Captain dodged with a simple twist of his torso, then swung his fist.

The punch landed square on my helmet.
A flash of dizziness seized me for an instant.

My helmet’s visor housed the lenses and data processing systems. Its armor was thinner than my torso or arms.
Compared to those areas, its vibranium shock absorption was significantly weaker.

Captain’s overwhelming punch power had pierced right through the alloy’s absorption capabilities.

Just for a moment—a few milliseconds—my consciousness blurred.

Captain saw that hesitation and drove a left hook into my face.

I reeled, stumbling backward to escape further blows.

“You… move like Natasha. You’re not like that simple thug earlier. You’re a professional agent, aren’t you?”

“…And what if I am?”

I forced out a reply between ragged breaths.

“If you’re a pro, then unlike those criminals, you’re not fighting for personal gain.”

The blows to my skull had shaken my brain.
My balance wasn’t functioning properly.

To buy myself time, I decided to keep talking.

“Why help them? What they’re planning is extremely dangerous. Innocent people will get hurt.”

“…That’s none of my concern. I have a mission to complete.”

At that, I felt Captain’s gaze sharpen slightly.

“In that case… I’ll stop you. With everything I have.”

Suddenly, Captain took off running.

But not toward me.

He was heading for his fallen shield.

I was too slow to react, focused as I was on healing the damage to my skull via my body’s healing factor.

I couldn’t reach it in time.

So instead of chasing Captain, I sprinted toward where my knife had fallen.

The distance favored me—I was faster.

I grabbed the knife and immediately raised it.

Like I’d done earlier with Natasha, I hurled it with full force.

Captain’s shield still lay on the ground, curved side down at his feet.

But the instant I threw my knife, Captain stomped on the edge of his shield, flipping it up into the air—
the same move I’d used earlier to recover my blade.

My thrown knife struck the rising shield—and bounced off.

A reaction that defied basic physics.

But Captain’s shield was pure vibranium.

It had absorbed the entirety of the impact.

Without missing a beat, Captain snatched the shield midair and spun.

I recognized that motion.

Like a discus throw…

This is bad.

I swallowed down the weak thought that almost escaped my lips.

Instead, I leapt to the right.

A moment later, Captain hurled his shield.

It spun at incredible speed as it flew—not toward where I had been, but toward where I was trying to move.

He had aimed for my escape path.

I instantly realized I couldn’t dodge.
I raised my right arm to block.

Then, too late, I understood my mistake.

My armor was vibranium-alloy. Against normal enemies, that was enough. The armor would absorb and neutralize their attacks.

But the shield flying toward me now…?

Pure, 100% vibranium.

In short: my right arm, armored though it was in vibranium alloy, couldn’t stop this.

This was a bad habit. I had grown too reliant on my armor, trusting it to block attacks.

A fatal mistake.

The shield, spinning like a circular saw, slammed into my raised arm.

In that instant—everything seemed to move in slow motion, like a drawn-out scene from some overdramatic film.

The high-speed spinning shield sliced through my armor.

It ripped off the outer plating of my right arm.

It shredded through the cut-resistant fabric beneath.

It tore open my skin.

And then, like a blade, the shield carved into my flesh.

Blood scattered through the air.