Chapter 232 – Captain America Gets a Taste of the Silence Staff
At that moment—
Outside Westview—
Convoys of trucks sped down the road, each hauling long containers emblazoned with the LexCorp logo.
At the front of the procession, an armored limousine came to a halt at the S.W.O.R.D. base camp.
From it stepped a mature, bald man in a sharp suit—
Lex Luthor.
Chairman of LexCorp, the true power behind a corporation with wealth rivaling entire nations.
S.W.O.R.D. Director Tyler Hayward frowned instinctively upon seeing the visitor.
Though he'd received official word in advance, he still disliked outside interference. It made him look incompetent.
After splitting from S.H.I.E.L.D., three major departments had formed: S.W.O.R.D., WAND, and ARMOR.
No longer in a hierarchical relationship, they now operated as independent forces, each responsible for protecting the human world in their respective fields.
"Don't get in my way," Luthor warned coolly, with the pride of someone used to commanding others.
Hayward shot back just as coldly, "Let's hope you don't get in mine."
Inwardly, he cursed the stupidity of politicians—bringing in a known corporate shark just to play some balance-of-power game.
With the growing fame of the four major bureaus, those in power had grown wary, choosing instead to align with private capital to keep control.
Among them, LexCorp was best known for its Amazo robots, which had been formally integrated into the official defense system, giving Luthor central command authority—as if he controlled the military itself.
Hmph!
Luthor made no attempt to hide his disdain, a look that made Hayward want to punch him—hard.
But alas, it remained a fantasy.
The man had a suit of armor capable of briefly going toe-to-toe with Superman.
Even as a high-level agent, Hayward knew he wouldn't last more than a few rounds in a real fight.
With a mere glance, Luthor signaled one of his men to operate a computer and upload commands to the Amazo units.
At once, the containers unfolded to reveal rows of metallic war machines.
Hayward looked at the Amazos ahead, unable to hide his envy.
Back in the 1980s, during the Skynet Incident, the Sentinel robots that hunted mutants had drawn the attention of every major power.
Their destructive capabilities had made them the deadliest weapons short of nukes.
Unfortunately for the humans, the mutants had turned the tide and destroyed the Sentinel factories.
LexCorp had seized the opportunity, acquiring shares in Trask Industries and inheriting the Sentinel tech to perfect the Amazo project.
Now, decades later, the Amazos were vastly superior.
During the last Dark Multiverse invasion, the Amazo army had excelled in civilian rescue operations, boosting LexCorp's stock price significantly.
As a result, research into robots and AI had become popular worldwide.
One Amazo unit advanced toward Westview to perform reconnaissance.
Upon contact with the chaotic magical barrier, its body underwent molecular-level alteration.
"Boss, Amazo units can't resist the radiation from this unknown energy signature," a technician quickly reported. "It's a previously unrecorded form of energy."
Luthor raised a hand, signaling a halt to the probe.
Two Amazos retrieved the previously dispatched unit—now grotesquely transformed into what looked like a plastic LEGO figure.
"Hold position," Luthor said.
He stepped away, pulling out his phone and dialing a number. He deliberately walked far off, voice low as he spoke.
Unbeknownst to him, Hayward heard everything.
He'd already planted numerous micro-devices, including surveillance bugs.
"If this involves WAND, there's no way I'm letting you get what you want," Hayward muttered, then returned to his RV and made a call to the WAND commander.
"Old Man, I need a favor."
"What is it? Spit it out. I'm up to my ears in work in District 13. Usually no one gives a damn, now suddenly everyone's all over me."
The voice on the other end was raspy and old.
"Don't help LexCorp. That bald bastard's up to no good. He might even be targeting the Avengers," Hayward speculated.
"You know we magic folk never deal with businessmen," the old man replied calmly. "But if this involves the Avengers, I can't just sit by. After all, Stephen's my junior. I owe it to him to look out for his people."
"No need for you to act personally," said Hayward. "LexCorp's Amazo bots can't enter Wanda's magical barrier. What they need is some magic-resistant artifact. Just find an excuse and deny the request."
"…Crap."
The old man's tone changed. "The officials already borrowed a few ancient relics yesterday. They're divine artifacts meant to counter magic."
"…"
Meanwhile, inside Westview—
The Avengers were glaring daggers at Allen, practically wishing they could grind his bones to dust.
The humiliation from earlier was still fresh in their minds.
Tony had a massive bruise on his rear, and Hawkeye couldn't sit still to save his life.
Stephen, Natasha, and Wong were also upset, though not quite seething. Their wounds were more emotional than physical.
"I swear you little &%#… You %@$#… You really @&%! You act like #￥… I honestly want to %@*#…"
Captain America's foul-mouthed tirade was relentless.
Crude, vulgar, and overflowing with maternal content, it was obvious Steve was saying everything the others were too polite to voice.
"What's wrong with Cap?" someone asked.
Allen looked disgusted. "No wonder you Marvel heroes have such low standards. Steve here's dragging down your collective moral score."
"I'm challenging you to a duel!" Steve growled, yanking off his shield in a fit of rage. "Screw being Captain America—whoever wants the damn title can have it. I'm going rogue today, and I will beat that smug freak into a whiny mess."
"Calm down, Steve."
"Don't be reckless, Cap."
"Impulsiveness is the devil, man. I support you emotionally, but I gotta hold you back physically."
"Captain, I'm with you—cripple that bastard."
The group scrambled to restrain the furious Cap, offering half-hearted advice.
Tony, being an uncle to both parties, found the situation deeply awkward—should he help fight or break it up?
Stephen, as a former Sorcerer Supreme, wasn't sure which side to back.
Natasha stayed cool-headed.
She remembered well that even during WWII, Steve hadn't been a match for Allen. There was no point entertaining the idea now.
The only one fully behind Steve was Hawkeye, who was still clutching his bruised butt and dreaming of peppering Allen's rear with arrows.
Do you even know how awkward this is for me right now?
If I walk too fast, I swear I'll start bleeding through my pants.
"Don't stop me—!"
"OW OW OW! IT HURTS!"
One second, he was brimming with fury; the next, writhing in agony.
Steve clutched his foot, rolling on the ground in pain. "Allen, stop! I give up! My toe's about to snap! No more! OW OW OW!"
"You think you can just quit?"
Allen cast a sinister spell—Advanced Severe Ingrown Toenail Jutsu—and said darkly to Agatha, "Lend me the Silence Staff."
"That's not very nice…"
Agatha looked thrilled but tried to act hesitant. Then she quickly turned and ran off, shouting, "I left it in the office! I'll grab it now!"
Not five minutes later—
Agatha came back holding a broom. "You can reshape it with Chaos Magic."
Allen took the broom, and crimson magical light flowed across its surface—restoring it to its original form.
"Don't come any closer! Someone, stop him—help me!!"
Steve panicked as Allen crept toward him, toilet plunger in hand, wearing a lecherous and menacing grin.
Once-comrades now watched from the sidelines, clearly uninvolved.
Who could blame them? The Silence Staff looked absolutely traumatizing—its mere appearance sparked PTSD.
"Pierce the soul, young man!"
Pop!
Bzzzzzzzz…