"Captain, something dropped over there!"
The team's remaining second scout shouted.
He had caught a fleeting glimpse of blue light after the explosion.
"Stay alert, follow me."
Rumlow took the lead, advancing toward the remains of the Grotesque. Though he, too, feared the unknown darkness, as captain, he couldn't show even a hint of hesitation.
Lowering his stance slightly, he aimed his gun forward, treading carefully to muffle his footsteps.
But in this vast, eerie environment, even the faintest sound echoed starkly.
Soon, Rumlow spotted the blue glow.
It was a crude knuckle-duster, or rather, brass knuckles.
A simple crossbar and a half-arc of metal offered little hand protection.
Rumlow wanted to order a teammate to pick it up, but for some reason, he ignored his usual caution and personally bent to retrieve the knuckle-duster.
At that moment, Vydar's voice boomed among the watching barbarians.
"Look at that greedy expression—doesn't it remind you of your first adventure?"
Vydar's shout broke the heavy atmosphere, and the barbarian ancestors' gazes toward the projection softened with a hint of fondness—or perhaps recognition?
After all, these ghostly figures, back when they lived, wouldn't they have ducked into a corner to identify a coveted piece of gear?
Though this was just a blue item requiring no identification, it was insignificant to the barbarian souls.
In this secret realm, aside from the champion demon, nothing surpassed the Grotesque.
The remaining creatures were merely Fallen Ones, only slightly stronger than ordinary humans.
This weapon's power could let Rumlow take down three to five Fallen Ones single-handedly with ease, giving them a chance at survival.
If luck favored them and they found more gear, they might all make it out alive.
Seeing the barbarians' reactions through the camera, Nick Fury realized the glowing blue knuckle-duster was no ordinary item.
He urged Rumlow to report.
The moment Rumlow slipped the knuckle-duster onto his right hand, he felt his body grow stronger.
The word "felt" was apt because the sudden surge of power was almost dreamlike.
He sensed his physical capabilities had more than doubled.
If he fought his former self now, he believed he could take on ten of them with ease.
This newfound strength was intoxicating.
"The moment I put on the knuckle-duster, I felt my physical abilities double—speed, strength, reaction, everything. In other words, I'm more than five times stronger than before."
Rumlow reported his sensations with a tone of awe.
Tess, watching from outside, pondered how to extract more information from the barbarians.
"Ha, your bodies are that frail, doubling in strength across the board?"
Vydar's surprised voice rang out again. Though he could sense how weak the agents were compared to barbarians, he hadn't realized just how frail.
For a newborn barbarian, the lowest-grade blue gear would boost strength by maybe ten percent, with minimal impact elsewhere.
Even for monks, who favored balanced weapons like this, doubling physical abilities was absurdly exaggerated.
Vydar's words didn't reveal critical secrets, but they were shocking enough for the experts at the conference table.
Though they didn't know how much this gear boosted barbarians, Vydar's comment implied their physical prowess far exceeded Captain America's.
Rumlow's abilities were already at the human peak. Now, with this comprehensive boost, they believed he was nearly on par with Captain America.
Yet such a state was called frail, sending the room into a frenzy.
"We must get their samples!"
"With samples, we could develop an even stronger Super Soldier Serum!"
The experts focused on serum research turned the meeting room into a cacophony.
"They're ghosts! How do you get samples from ghosts?"
An expert in supernatural phenomena cut through the clamor, and all eyes turned to the only living barbarian on the screen.
Bul-Kathos!
Truthfully, Nick Fury felt tempted by this opportunity.
Blood samples could yield a Super Soldier surpassing Captain America—a lure few could resist.
Before he could order Tess to make a reckless move, Jill, calming himself nearby, brought him back to reason.
Fury was certain he recognized his old comrade's son, whose autopsy report still sat in his desk drawer.
Until that issue was resolved, he wouldn't take risks.
Supernatural powers came with myriad possibilities—illusions deceiving inspectors or altered memories demanded utmost caution.
Besides, they knew too little. Rash action would be utterly foolish.
"Quiet! Everything you've seen and heard is classified Level 10. You don't need me to remind you of confidentiality protocols!"
Fury quelled the dispute, but an unease gnawed at him, its source unclear.
Was it his suspicious nature or fear of the unknown?
S.H.I.E.L.D. might be restrained by Fury, but what of Hydra?
While Hydra coveted interdimensional teleportation tech, Super Soldiers were also a long-sought goal.
Countless others pursued this power.
General Ross in the military—wasn't he obsessed with recreating the Super Soldier Serum?
Osborn Industries was doing the same. Once news of this mountain leaked, they'd swarm like hyenas.
The risks wouldn't fall solely on S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra, but any samples obtained would be impossible to monopolize.
Hydra was everywhere, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was no less pervasive.
For now, everyone in the room calmed down.
They needed to glean more from the footage and maximize their gains.
Even if it meant sacrificing Rumlow's team, they had to secure a return.
(End of Chapter)
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