Chapter 1 begins in Normandy
When Chu Hang woke up, his mind was still muddled.
He remembered he was clearly in the company's meeting room, accompanying his boss to refine a proposal with the client.
It seemed to be late at night, and he was so sleepy his eyelids were almost glued together, his mind full of various data and charts, with the boss's spittle-flying voice in his ears.
He had only one thought at the time: working this shift was truly more unbearable than death.
But then, with a blink of an eye, the World changed.
The pungent smell of gunpowder, mixed with the earthy scent of mud and an indescribable metallic rust smell, drilled into his nostrils.
His ears were even livelier, buzzing like hundreds of tractors starting simultaneously, interspersed with loud "bang, bang, bang" sounds, and with each bang, he felt the ground beneath him tremble.
Where was this? Was the company renovating, doing demolition with explosives?
He struggled to open his eyes, and what he saw was not the familiar ceiling and chandeliers, but a hazy, grey sky.
There were also a few black dots in the sky, trailing long smoke, slowly flying past.
He moved his body and felt as if he was lying in a pit, covered in wet, cold, hard mud.
He looked down and saw that he wasn't wearing the plaid shirt that had accompanied him through many years of battles, but a thick, clumsy, khaki military uniform he had only seen in old movies.
Many people lay or sprawled haphazardly around him, all wearing similar clothes, their faces smeared like calico cats, all blond, blue-eyed foreigners.
They all clutched long iron weapons; some were shouting something hoarsely, while others just lay on the ground, motionless.
Chu Hang's mind went "buzz" and completely crashed.
He was an ordinary office worker, living a two-point-one-line life between the company and his rented room, his biggest dream being to win five million in the lottery and retire early.
This scene now was truly beyond his comprehension.
Just as he was lost in thought, there was a loud "boom" not far away, a ball of Fire shot into the sky, and a wave of earth came crashing down on him, leaving him dazed.
It was then that he realized, this wasn't a dream, nor was it a movie; this was a real battlefield!
Those loud noises were the sounds of exploding artillery shells!
"I... I've transmigrated?" Chu Hang's lips trembled, his heart sinking.
He was a modern social animal who had barely fought, powerless; throwing him into a place like this, what was the difference from a direct death sentence?
Fear, like a cold hand, tightly gripped his heart.
He wanted to get up and run, but his legs were as soft as noodles and wouldn't obey him.
He could only cling to the small shell crater, listening to the whistling bullets passing by, feeling as if he could become a cold corpse at any moment.
"It's over, it's over, it's completely over now," he thought in despair.
"I'm going to die right after transmigrating; I might be the shortest-lived transmigrator in history."
Just as he was filled with despair, a cold, emotionless mechanical voice abruptly sounded in his mind.
"Ding! Host's vital signs and mental fluctuations detected to meet activation standards; the superpower copiersystem is officially activated."
"This system is dedicated to providing the host with the most powerful ability support.
Each week, the host can select any intelligent life form as a target to permanently copy one of its abilities."
"Contact with the target is required for replication."
"After successful replication, the system will enter a seven-day, or one hundred sixty-eight-hour, cooldown period."
"Given that this is the first replication opportunity, the host can select a target within sight for replication."
Chu Hang was startled by the sudden voice, followed by a surge of ecstasy.
System! Golden Finger! The standard welfare for transmigrators!
The flicker of despair in his heart was instantly doused with a barrel of gasoline, burning fiercely.
He was saved! Heaven hadn't forgotten him after all!
Copy one superpower every week? Permanently? That sounded too amazing!
As long as he had some time, let alone surviving this battlefield, wouldn't he be able to do whatever he wanted in the future?
But the problem was, what he lacked most right now was time.
He secretly peeked out and saw a hail of bullets and artillery shells raining down as if they were free.
He couldn't even think about finding someone to copy an ability from, let alone moving to another spot, which would be as hard as ascending to heaven.
And where would he find people with superpowers? This was a World War II battlefield, not a movie World filled with superheroes.
Should his first ability be to copy a "marksman" or "master of combat"?
These might be useful on the battlefield, but they didn't seem enough to make him worry-free.
Just as he was lost in thought, another violent explosion occurred not far from him.
This time he wasn't so lucky; a piece of shrapnel, blown off and searing hot, like a red-hot knife, brutally pierced his lower abdomen.
An indescribable excruciating pain instantly spread throughout his body.
Chu Hang screamed, his whole body arching up like a cooked shrimp.
He could clearly feel his strength and body temperature rapidly draining away with the blood continuously gushing from the wound in his lower abdomen.
His vision began to blur, and the sound of artillery fire in his ears grew more distant.
"No... it can't be..." He used his last ounce of strength to look down, and the gruesome wound and the ceaselessly flowing blood instantly extinguished the spark of hope he had just ignited.
The Golden Finger had just arrived, and before he even had a chance to warm up to it, he was going to die from blood loss?
What was this? A trial card?
Just as his consciousness was about to dissipate, the corner of his eye caught sight of a burly man lying next to him.
That guy was also wearing a military uniform, with a full beard, a nearly extinguished cigar in his mouth, looking even more disheveled than him.
In the recent explosion, Chu Hang clearly saw a bullet hit his chest, leaving a bloody hole in his clothes.
But this guy, as if nothing had happened, merely cursed under his breath, then spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, his eyes still fiercely fixed on the front.
Chu Hang's mind, at that moment, felt as if it had been struck by lightning.
Shot, and acting as if nothing happened?
This was not normal! This was absolutely not normal!
Could it be... this guy was someone with "superpowers"?
Chu Hang couldn't afford to think so much anymore; this was his last chance.
He used all his strength, screaming frantically in his mind.
"System! System! Him! Copy his ability!"
He felt his consciousness was like a flickering candle in the wind, ready to extinguish at any moment.
"Ding! Target locked... Scanning target ability..."
The system's voice sounded again, and at this moment, it was like the sound of heaven to Chu Hang.
"Found replicable ability: Healing Factor."
"Confirm replication?"
"Replicate! Replicate quickly!" Chu Hang roared in his mind.
"Replication successful.
Congratulations, Host, you have permanently acquired the ability: Healing Factor."
"System entering cooldown state, remaining cooldown time: one hundred sixty-seven hours, fifty-nine minutes, fifty-nine seconds."
As the system's prompt faded, an indescribable warm current suddenly surged from his heart, instantly flowing through all his limbs and bones.
Immediately after, the originally excruciatingly painful wound on his lower abdomen began to itch with a strange, piercing sensation, as if countless ants were crawling on it, desperately burrowing into his flesh.
He couldn't help but look down, and then he saw a scene he would never forget.
The deep, bone-visible wound was wriggling and growing at a visible speed.
Damaged blood vessels were reconnecting, torn muscles were healing, and even the cut skin was rapidly growing new granulation tissue, then quickly scabbing over.
In just over a minute, the fatal wound was reduced to nothing but a scar stained with dried blood.
Aside from the hole in his clothes and the bloodstains, no one would have guessed he had just walked through the gates of hell.
Chu Hang dazedly touched his stomach, feeling the flat, firm touch, and was utterly stunned.
He had survived.
He had truly survived!
This immense joy of escaping death made him tremble all over.
Healing Factor! So this was the ability he had copied!
This ability was simply a divine skill on the battlefield!
Before he could fully recover from this immense surprise, a sharp whistle suddenly echoed across the entire position.
The Soldiers lying and crouching around him, as if energized, leaped out of the trenches with their guns, shouting meaningless cries.
The charge had begun.
Chu Hang was still in a daze when the bearded strong man next to him also sprang up.
He threw his extinguished cigar to the ground, irritably stretched his neck, making a "crack, crack" sound.
Then, Chu Hang heard a very strange sound.
"Swish!"
The sound was crisp, like metal rubbing.
He instinctively looked towards the source of the sound, only to see the strong man raise his right hand, and three long bone claws, gleaming with a chilling White light, suddenly sprang from between his knuckles.
Chu Hang's eyes instantly widened, his mouth agape enough to fit an egg.
He looked at the three sharp bone claws, then instinctively thought about the "Healing Factor" ability he had just copied.
A name, a name he was incredibly familiar with, suddenly leaped from the depths of his mind.
Logan. Wolverine.
Chu Hang stared blankly at the back of the man roaring and charging towards the German Army position, with only one thought left in his mind.
Holy crap... What the hell did I just copy?
Chapter 2 Hello, my name is Logan
The bugle call to charge was like an awl, piercing Chu Hang's eardrums.
Before he could digest the astonishing fact that he had replicated Wolverine's abilities, he was violently poked in the back with a rifle butt, a huge force pushing him into a stumble, causing him to roll out of the shell crater.
"Move it, rookie! Do you want to stay here and be a target?" a hoarse voice roared in his ear.
Chu Hang's mind was blank, his body acting purely on instinct, following the swaying figures in front of him, stumbling through the muddy ground.
He clutched the cold, heavy rifle in his arms; the thing was no different from an iron rod in his hands, and he didn't even know how to fire it, only able to treat it as his sole psychological comfort.
The moment he left the cover of the shell crater, the entire World seemed to turn into a living hell.
Bullets whizzed past his head, ears, and legs, their sharp whistling making his scalp tingle.
Explosions in the distance rose and fell, each deafening blast accompanied by a pillar of Fire and black smoke, and scorching air currents mixed with dirt and gravel rained down on him.
The strong smell of gunpowder and blood in the air made his eyes water, and his throat burned as if he were inhaling not air, but glass shards.
He saw a young Soldier who had just been charging forward with him suddenly lose his upper body, blown into a mist of blood by a shell that came from who knows where.
The warm liquid splashed Chu Hang's face, sticky and carrying a fishy smell that made his stomach churn.
Fear, an unprecedented fear, like countless icy hands, reached out from all directions, gripping his throat tightly, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
As an ordinary person who grew up in peacetime, where had he ever seen such a scene?
The war in movies was nothing compared to the real battlefield, it was like children playing house.
He wanted to scream, to turn and run, to dig a hole and bury himself.
But in this chaotic meat grinder, he could do nothing.
The only thing he could do was to emulate others, bending his waist like a shrimp, running forward with all his might.
His gaze instinctively locked onto the most conspicuous target—Logan, the burly man with a cigar in his mouth and bone claws extending from his hands.
This guy was like a wild ox charging into a flock of sheep, completely ignoring the German Army's interwoven network of Fire.
He advanced with heavy steps, with an unstoppable momentum.
Bullets hitting his thick chest only caused small splashes of blood, and then he would shake himself off as if nothing had happened, continuing to let out a Beast-like roar.
Every swing of his bone claws brought a pale, cold gleam, easily tearing through enemy bodies.
He was like an unceasing killing machine; wherever he went, he left behind only dismembered corpses and the terrified screams of German Army Soldiers.
"Follow him! You must stick close to him!" This was the only thought left in Chu Hang's mind.
In this deadly battlefield, this unkillable monster was his only chance of survival.
He exerted all his strength, following closely behind Logan.
Logan attracted most of the firepower, and Chu Hang's pressure was greatly reduced by following him.
Even so, danger was still everywhere.
A stray bullet came from an unknown corner, with a sharp whistle, and fiercely embedded itself in his left shoulder.
"Ah!" Chu Hang screamed, a piercing pain instantly spreading throughout his body.
He felt as if his left arm had been branded with a red-hot iron, and then his entire shoulder lost all sensation.
He stumbled, falling heavily into the mud.
He lay on the ground, trembling with pain, cold sweat instantly soaking his undershirt.
He looked down and saw a hole in his military uniform on his left shoulder, and blood was gushing out as if it were free, quickly staining the mud beneath him a dark red.
"It's over..." His mind went blank, and a strong sense of weightlessness and dizziness washed over him.
He knew this was a sign of excessive blood loss.
Where was the Healing Factor? Why wasn't it working?
Just as his consciousness began to blur, a familiar, piercing itch came from deep within the wound.
The sensation was even more unbearable than when the bullet went in, as if countless ants were frantically gnawing at his bones and flesh.
He groaned in pain, but a surge of ecstasy rose in his heart.
It's working! The Healing Factor is taking effect!
He endured the indescribable itching and pain, staring intently at his wound.
He could feel the muscles and blood vessels in the wound wriggling, intertwining, and regenerating in an unnatural way.
The bullet head, embedded between his bones, was forcefully squeezed out by the new muscle, falling into the muddy Water with a "clink."
This process lasted for about a minute, but to Chu Hang, it felt as long as a century.
When the strange itch finally subsided, the excruciating pain in his shoulder also disappeared.
He moved his left arm, and aside from some lingering soreness and numbness, he felt no pain whatsoever.
Only then did he understand that the Healing Factordidn't make him immune to pain, nor did it make him invulnerable to blades and bullets.
It was merely an incredibly powerful after-sales service; no matter how badly he was beaten, as long as he didn't die on the spot, it could fix him.
But the repair process was not pleasant at all.
"Damn it, this ability... it comes with a painful after-sales experience package," Chu Hang grimaced, climbing out of the mud.
After all that, his courage actually grew.
He couldn't die anyway, so what was there to be afraid of?
He looked up, searching for Logan's figure.
Soon, he saw Logan suppressed beneath a destroyed earthen slope ahead.
A German Army MG42 heavy machine gun was set up in a makeshift fortification made of sandbags, spewing long tongues of Fire.
The terrifying rate of Fire created a barrage of bullets, like a wall of Death, firmly pinning Logan behind the slope, sending dirt and gravel flying around him.
Although Logan tried to charge out repeatedly, he was driven back by the dense hail of bullets, constantly acquiring new wounds on his body.
Even his powerful Healing Factor seemed somewhat strained in the face of such continuous, high-intensity firepower.
Chu Hang's heart leaped into his throat.
He knew very well that Logan was his only amulet right now.
If Logan were incapacitated by this machine gun, then his own Death wouldn't be far off.
Help him? How to help?
He didn't even know how to load the gun in his hand.
Charging head-on, he would probably be riddled with holes after just two steps.
His gaze quickly scanned the chaotic battlefield, finally landing on an entrenching tool next to a corpse at his feet.
The edge of the shovel glinted coldly in the firelight.
A crazy idea suddenly popped into his mind.
His biggest advantage was that he couldn't die.
If that was the case, why not use it?
He no longer hesitated, gritting his teeth and grabbing the mud-caked entrenching tool.
He crouched low, using the surrounding uneven terrain and the ubiquitous corpses as cover, and began to creep from the side, little by little, towards the furiously roaring machine gun position.
His heart pounded "thump-thump" in his chest, almost leaping out of his throat.
Every step he took felt like dancing on the tip of a knife.
Several times, bullets grazed his scalp, the wind they created stinging his cheeks.
The German machine gunner's attention was completely drawn to Logan; he never dreamed that someone would dare to creep up from the exposed flank.
Closer, even closer.
Chu Hang could even see the machine gunner's face, flushed with excitement and tension.
Now!
Chu Hang took a deep breath, summoned the greatest courage of his life, and suddenly leaped out from behind a horse's corpse.
He gripped the entrenching tool with both hands, let out a roar that even he found unfamiliar, and with all his might, brought the heavy shovel head down hard on the machine gunner's back of the head.
"Bang!"
A dull, teeth-grinding sound.
The German Soldier's head was like a smashed watermelon, his steel helmet dented significantly; he didn't even make a sound before slumping softly onto the machine gun.
The assistant gunner next to him was scared out of his wits by this sudden turn of events.
He looked in horror at Chu Hang, who had appeared like a demon from hell, and instinctively reached for the pistol at his waist.
Chu Hang was already bloodthirsty; he pulled out the entrenching tool and, without looking, swung it back in a horizontal sweep, the edge of the shovel hitting the man squarely on the neck.
With a crisp "crack," the assistant gunner's head drooped at a grotesque angle.
Having dealt with the two men, Chu Hang felt all the strength drained from his body.
His legs gave out, and he sat down heavily in the blood-stained mud, the entrenching tool falling to his side.
He looked at the two corpses at his feet, his stomach churning, and with a "wah," he vomited up all the oatmeal he had eaten that morning.
He trembled uncontrollably, unsure if it was from fear or the physiological reaction after killing someone.
The roar of the machine gun abruptly ceased, and for a moment, an eerie silence fell over the battlefield.
Logan, whose pressure had suddenly decreased, immediately noticed.
He leaped up from behind the embankment and, in a few steps, rushed to the machine gun position.
He saw the two fallen German Soldiers, and then he saw Chu Hang sitting on the ground, pale and trembling, with a puddle of vomit beside him.
A complex expression appeared on Logan's fierce face.
He didn't speak, but simply walked over to Chu Hang, extended his large, fan-like hand, and pulled him up from the ground.
"Kid, not bad," he said in a hoarse voice, then clapped Chu Hang twice on the shoulder, "You've got guts."
Chu Hang stumbled from the pats, giving a dry chuckle, unable to utter a word.
The battle ended half an hour later; they took the position at a heavy cost.
The surviving Soldiers collapsed to the ground, exhausted, no one speaking, only heavy breathing and the groans of the wounded filling the air.
Logan pulled out a bottle of whiskey from somewhere, twisted off the cap, and took a big swig, then handed the bottle to Chu Hang.
Chu Hang hesitated for a moment, took it, and mimicked him, taking a mouthful.
The spicy liquid burned like Fire from his throat to his stomach, causing him to cough violently, but the burning sensation dispelled much of the chill in his heart.
Logan, with his characteristic cigar clenched between his teeth, squatted beside Chu Hang, squinting at him, and after a long moment, spoke: "I saw you get shot, right in the shoulder.
Where's the wound?"
Chu Hang's heart skipped a beat, knowing what was coming.
He had already prepared his excuse and said calmly, "I don't know what happened either.
It's been like this since I was little; no matter how serious the injury, I just sleep it off.
I heal much faster than others."
Logan, hearing this, gave him a deep look, his eyes sharp enough to pierce through one's heart.
He didn't press further, just nodded.
Everyone had their secrets, especially in this hellhole; survival was the only truth.
He smelled a similar "monster" scent on Chu Hang as he did on himself.
He exhaled a smoke ring and extended his calloused and scarred hand towards Chu Hang: "You saved my life.
I'm Logan."
Chu Hang looked at him, also extended his hand, and firmly clasped it: "Chu Hang."
Afterward, Chu Hang and Logan became inseparable partners.
One was like a tank, drawing fire and charging head-on, while the other was like a Shadow, utilizing his unkillable nature to harass and ambush from the flanks.
Their combination shone brightly in several battles over the next two days, achieving terrifying efficiency.
On the third day at dusk, they had just repelled a German Army counterattack and were leaning in a trench, sharing a can of corned beef.
An officer wearing a bowler hat and sporting a distinctive small mustache, accompanied by a squad of Soldiers, walked directly up to them.
The officer's uniform was crisp, his leather boots polished to a shine, completely out of place in the muddy, bloody surroundings.
He looked down at Chu Hang and Logan, who were covered in mud and ravenously eating, a playful smile on his face.
"Gentlemen," he began, his voice clear and strong, "Are you interested in moving to a different place and doing something more interesting?"
Chapter 3 Roaring Commando
Logan didn't even bother to lift an eyelid, grabbing the last piece of beef from the can and stuffing it into his mouth. He mumbled, "Not interested. Killing Germans here is interesting enough."
That's just how he was, naturally unwilling to be told what to do. Chu Hang didn't think that way; he knew perfectly well that this mustachioed Officer was none other than Dum Dum Dugan from the Howling Commandos in the movie. This was a great opportunity to latch onto something big; following the main force was definitely better than him and Logan being rogue Soldiers.
He quickly nudged Logan with his elbow and, with a fawning smile, said to Dugan, "Officer, my brother here just has that kind of temper, please don't mind him. Of course, we're interested, but we're just not sure what kind of 'interesting job' you're talking about?"
Dugan's gaze swept over Chu Hang and Logan, a shrewdness glinting in his small eyes. He seemed completely unfazed by Logan's rudeness, instead finding Chu Hang, the seemingly more 'sensible' Oriental kid, more interesting.
"A job that will allow you to fully utilize your 'special skills,'" Dugan said, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "A job that will let you kill to your heart's content. Come with me, we'll talk on the way."
With that, he turned and left, not waiting for Logan's agreement.
Logan frowned, looking annoyed, clearly not wanting to move.
Chu Hang quickly leaned into his ear and whispered, "Logan, think about it. We're pretty capable fighters now, but what if one day we run into a tough opponent, surrounded by hundreds of guns, or encircled by tanks? Even with your Healing Factor, you'd be turned into paste. With them, at least we're considered elites in the regular army; their equipment, intelligence, and logistics are all beyond what we can compare to. Besides, from what he implies, there are plenty of tough nuts to crack, isn't that more satisfying than killing these ordinary Soldiers now?"
Logan listened and fell silent. Though he was wild by nature, he wasn't stupid. What Chu Hang said was indeed the truth. He and Chu Hang were formidable on the battlefield, but ultimately, they were outnumbered. He licked his lips, threw the empty can to the ground, stood up, and grumbled, "Then let's go see. If it's not as interesting as you say, I'll turn around and leave."
"Alright!" Chu Hang's heart blossomed with joy, and he quickly followed Dugan's footsteps.
They were led to a military truck covered with a thick canvas. The cargo compartment was pitch black; nothing could be seen. The truck started, bumpy all the way, and they didn't know how long or where they were going.
Logan leaned against the truck wall, eyes closed, as if he were asleep. Chu Hang couldn't sleep; he was incredibly excited. He knew he was officially stepping onto the main storyline of the Marvel Universe. Next, he would meet Captain America, Bucky, and those characters who had only appeared in movies.
He couldn't help but think, this feeling was truly amazing. A few weeks ago, he was still a corporate drone, working overtime until late every night for a few thousand yuan in salary. Now, he was sitting in a truck heading to a secret Base, about to become a member of a legendary team. And his greatest reliance was the replication ability that was still on cooldown, and the 'spoilers' in his head.
After an unknown amount of time, the truck finally stopped.
The canvas was pulled back, and the dazzling lights made Chu Hang instinctively squint. They were led into a massive underground Base. This place was a completely different World from the battlefields outside, which were ablaze with gunfire. It was brightly lit, with busy Soldiers and researchers in white coats everywhere. The air was filled with a mixture of oil and disinfectant.
Dugan led them into a briefing room. Several people were already seated in the room, all slumped in various postures, not looking like ordinary Soldiers. There was a Black guy playing a harmonica, an Asian man wearing glasses who looked refined, and a Frenchman smoking a pipe.
Chu Hang knew in his heart that these were the initial members of the Howling Commandos.
Dugan walked to the front of the room, cleared his throat, and said, "Welcome to our two new members. I know you all have questions about why I've gathered you 'elites,' or rather, 'freaks,' from different units here."
His gaze swept over everyone, finally resting on Chu Hang and Logan: "Because the enemy we face is not ordinary German Soldiers."
He gestured, and the orderly behind him immediately pulled down the projection screen in the room and turned on the projector.
The "click-clack" sound of film reels turning began, and a beam of light hit the screen.
The first image was a huge flag, emblazoned with a Red Skull and six octopus tentacles. Beneath the flag were thousands of fanatical Soldiers, raising their arms and shouting a single word in unison.
"Hail HYDRA!"
Chu Hang's heart skipped a beat. It was here, finally.
Dugan's voice became solemn: "This is our true enemy—HYDRA. Germany's deep science strategic force, led by a man named Johann Schmidt, also known as the 'Red Skull.' The technology they possess far exceeds the scope of what we can currently comprehend. The energy weapons they use can turn a person to ash in an instant."
The screen began to play some blurry combat footage. Chu Hang saw those HYDRA Soldiers in black uniforms, holding futuristic blue energy guns. Blue beams shot out, and U.S. Soldiers were vaporized instantly like paper, leaving no corpses behind.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly became oppressive. Even the usually nonchalant Logan's brows were tightly furrowed. He wasn't afraid to die, but he hated a death where he had no power to fight back.
"Conventional tactics and weapons have limited effect against them," Dugan continued. "Therefore, we need a special team. A team that can use unconventional methods to penetrate deep behind enemy lines and conduct precise strikes against HYDRA. And you are the most 'unconventional' Soldiers I have selected from various war zones."
His words made several people present show thoughtful expressions. Each of them, more or less, had something different about them, which made them out of place in their original units. Now, their "uniqueness" had become the reason for their selection.
"Our mission is to bite off every tentacle of HYDRA like a pack of mad dogs. Therefore, this team will be called the 'Howling Commandos.'"
After Dugan finished speaking, he turned off the projector. But he didn't turn on the lights; instead, he loaded a new reel of film.
"Of course, we're not without some good news," he said, feigning nonchalance. "To counter HYDRA, we've also come up with a little 'good something' on our side."
New images appeared on the screen.
This time, the style changed abruptly. Stirring music began, and a man wearing a blue, white, and red bodysuit, with a white star on his chest and a pot-lid-shaped shield in his hand, appeared on stage. Behind him was a line of lightly dressed blonde women, singing and dancing.
"Is this..." Logan said with a look of disgust, "a Joker from a circus?"
Chu Hang almost burst out laughing. He knew this was Captain America's earliest image, specifically used for touring and selling war bonds. That outfit was indeed incredibly tacky, full of the flavor of the era.
On the screen, the man began his performance. He punched through a sandbag painted with Hitler's head, effortlessly lifted several beautiful women, and then performed somersaults on stage, his movements incredibly agile. The entire propaganda film was extremely exaggerated and inflammatory, full of individual heroism.
"Steve Rogers, whom you are about to meet, Captain America," Dugan introduced. "He is the only successful product of our 'super Soldier' program. His strength, speed, and reaction capabilities have reached the limits of human imagination. He is our ace against HYDRA."
Everyone in the room was stunned. Although they weren't impressed by the ridiculous costume, the superhuman physique Rogers displayed in the footage was real. That wasn't movie special effects; it was genuine power.
Chu Hang's eyes were fixed on the figure on the screen, his heart pounding uncontrollably.
The Healing Factor could only keep him from dying. But he didn't want to just be an unkillable punching bag; he wanted to possess truly powerful strength!
And this Captain America before him was the most ideal replication target he could access at this stage!
super soldier serum! If he could replicate this ability, his physical qualities would skyrocket across the board. At that point, combined with Wolverine's Healing Factor, it would be an offensive and defensive powerhouse, able to take hits and dish them out! His survival rate on this battlefield would increase exponentially!
"I must get it!" Chu Hang swore to himself, his eyes filled with longing.
The propaganda film ended, and the lights in the room came on.
Dugan looked at the shocked expressions on everyone's faces and nodded with satisfaction: "I know you probably think he's just an actor putting on a show on stage right now. But soon, you will witness his power with your own eyes."
He paused, his expression becoming serious: "Just yesterday, over a hundred of our Soldiers were captured by HYDRA in an operation, including Captain's close friend, Sergeant Bucky Barnes. Captain has already decided to go rescue them alone."
"And our first official mission, the Howling Commandos, is to rendezvous with him."
As soon as Dugan finished speaking, Chu Hanginstinctively brought up his system interface in his mind.
[System cooling down...]
[Remaining cooldown time: Four days, eight hours, twenty-one minutes...]
Chu Hang's brows instantly furrowed.
Four days! More than four days!
He had just replicated 'Firearms Mastery' two days ago.
The mission could start at any moment, but his ability was still on cooldown. This meant that even if he met Captain America, he could only watch helplessly, unable to act.
What should he do?
He had to find a way to survive this dangerous mission and, during the mission, find an opportunity to get close to Captain America, and this opportunity had to happen precisely after his ability cooldown ended.
Chu Hang rubbed his temples, feeling that this matter was much harder than dodging bullets on the battlefield.
Chapter 4 Before setting off, let's get some good stuff.
The lights in the briefing room came back on, and for a moment, no one spoke, only the 'tap-tap' of Dugan's fingers on the table.
Everyone's expressions were complex: shock, doubt, and a hint of rekindled excitement.
HYDRA, energy weapons, Super Soldiers.
These words were like heavy stones, smashing into the hearts of these seasoned veterans, stirring up no small ripples.
Logan was the first to break the silence.
He stood up from his chair, cracking his knuckles with a mixture of impatience and bloodlust on his face: "Cut the crap.
When do we leave? Where are we going to kill people?"
He didn't care about HYDRA or octopuses, nor about Captain America or the U.S. President.
He only cared about one thing: whether his opponents were tough enough to give him a good fight.
The scenes in the film, where HYDRA Soldiers were reduced to ashes by energy weapons, didn't scare him; instead, they ignited the ferocity in his bones.
Dugan gave him an approving look, clearly appreciating his straightforward attitude.
"Don't rush, Logan.
Dealing with HYDRA requires more than just brute force."
He pointed to the door, "Come on, let's take you to see your new home first, then go get some good stuff.
Get a good rest tonight; we leave at dawn tomorrow."
The so-called "new home" was a large open barracks.
A dozen cots were neatly arranged in two rows, with bedding folded into perfect squares.
Compared to the foxholes they dug on the front lines, these conditions were heaven.
As soon as they entered the barracks, the atmosphere lightened considerably.
The few team members who hadn't spoken much before also started introducing themselves.
The Black guy playing the harmonica was Gabe Jones, a technical specialist skilled in various machinery.
The bespectacled Japanese-American was Jimmy Morita, an explosives expert.
The Frenchman with the pipe was Jacques Dernier, proficient in infiltration and poisoning.
Each person had a unique skill.
Chu Hang, in his previous life, was the kind of person who could chat with anyone at his company.
He proactively greeted everyone, offered cigarettes, and quickly blended in with the group.
He knew that these people would be comrades who could trust each other with their backs in the future, so building good relationships was definitely beneficial.
Only Logan, upon entering the room, found a bed in the farthest corner, tossed his worn leather jacket onto the pillow, and began to wipe his combat knife, emanating an aura of "do not approach."
Chu Hang didn't try to force a conversation; he understood Logan's personality too well.
This guy was a lone wolf; getting him to integrate into a team was harder than getting him to quit cigars.
But it didn't matter; as long as he knew who his comrades were on the battlefield, that was enough.
While chatting and joking with Gabe and the others, he pondered his own big plans.
Four days.
His replication ability still had four days until its cooldown ended.
And the mission would begin tomorrow morning.
This time gap was deadly.
In other words, he had to ensure that he and Captain America both remained alive for at least four days after the mission began, and during that time, he needed to create an opportunity to "accidentally" encounter the Captain.
This was no small feat.
He knew with his gut that HYDRA's Base would be a den of dragons and a tiger's lair.
In the movie, Bucky fell off a cliff there.
He certainly didn't want to follow suit.
"Hey, Chu!"
Jimmy Morita pushed up his glasses and leaned over, asking curiously, "I heard Officer Dugan say that you and Logan are both... well, very resilient.
Is that true?"
Chu Hang knew what he wanted to ask and smiled, pointing to his uniform, which still bore bullet holes and bloodstains: "Just good luck on the battlefield."
He certainly couldn't say he relied on a Healing Factor, so he could only vaguely gloss over it.
Fortunately, these people were also sharp, and seeing that he didn't want to elaborate, they didn't press further.
After a while of commotion, Dugan led them to the Base's armory.
As soon as they stepped through the heavy iron door, a cold scent of metal and gun oil wafted over them.
Chu Hang's eyes instantly lit up.
This armory was much grander than the small warehouse at his previous unit.
The walls were hung with various long and short firearms, from Thompson submachine guns to M1 Garand rifles, everything imaginable.
On the tables were rows of grenades, explosives, and various calibers of ammunition, neatly stacked and gleaming with a chilling light under the lamps.
An old man who looked like a quartermaster handed over a checklist: "Standard issue: one submachine gun, one pistol, four grenade magazines per person, choose for yourselves."
Logan didn't even bother to look, directly taking two Colt M1911 pistols from the wall, tucking them behind his waist, then grabbing a large handful of bullets and stuffing them into his pocket, and casually snagging several cigars, considering himself done.
For him, his own claws were more effective than any weapon.
The others also began to select their preferred weapons.
Chu Hang, however, remained still.
He stood there, his mind rapidly recalling the plot of 'Captain America 1.'
Where was that HYDRA factory where Captain went to rescue people?
It seemed to be in the mountains of Austria, cold and freezing.
And the factory's internal structure was complex, with many platforms and walkways at varying heights.
Thinking of this, he had an idea.
He walked up to the quartermaster, revealing a particularly sincere smile: "Officer, besides these, can I request anything else?"
The quartermaster raised an eyebrow: "Speak."
"I'd like a set of the thickest thermal underwear, wool type.
Also, a pair of climbing grappling hooks and at least fifty feet of rope.
Oh, and do you have any high-calorie compressed biscuits and chocolate?
The more, the better." Chu Hang rattled off in one breath.
As soon as he spoke, the entire armory fell silent.
Everyone looked at him as if he were a monster.
Dugan frowned: "Chu, what do you need these things for?
We're going to raid a factory, not go winter hiking."
Chu Hang had already prepared his explanation.
He scratched his head, feigning a slightly embarrassed look: "Officer, this is experience I gained from previous battles.
The place we're going, as you described, is behind enemy lines, and the specific environment is uncertain.
If it's in some mountain gully and it's cold, it's always right to dress warmly; you can't fight if you're frozen stiff.
As for ropes and grappling hooks, their use is even greater; climbing a wall, descending a ditch, or pulling an injured comrade out of a pit—they're all useful."
He paused, then added: "High-calorie food is even more important.
No one knows how long this mission will last, and if we get trapped, having something to eat can help us last longer.
I've personally seen comrades who weren't killed by bullets but starved to death."
His words were well-reasoned and entirely based on a veteran's practical experience, leaving no room for fault.
Dugan listened and fell silent.
He looked at Chu Hang, a hint of scrutiny and appreciation in his eyes.
He had initially thought this oriental kid, like Logan, was just a fearless hothead, but he hadn't expected his mind to be so meticulous, considering things even more thoroughly than he, the Commander.
"You make a good point."
Dugan nodded and said to the quartermaster, "Give everyone a set of what he asked for."
He then turned to Chu Hang and asked, "Anything else?"
Chu Hang's eyes darted around, and he thought of the impenetrable armor of the HYDRA Soldiers in the movie.
He pointed to a type of sticky explosive on the table: "Officer, can we get more of this C2 plastic explosive?
I feel like this stuff is better than grenades for dealing with tin cans."
At this, even the demolition expert Jimmy Morita looked at him with new respect.
After collecting all the equipment, everyone looked like a mobile fortress, laden with various items.
Logan looked at the thick clothes and extra gear forcibly put on him, clearly displeased, muttering, "Trouble."
Chu Hang, however, was satisfied.
He knew that these items he requested would be of great use in the upcoming mission, perhaps even life-saving at critical moments.
This was not just for himself but for the entire squad.
After all, his individual strength was limited; the more teammates who survived, the higher the mission's success rate, and only then would he have the opportunity to replicate Captain America's abilities.
With everything ready, Dugan gathered them in front of a C-47 transport plane.
The huge propellers had already begun to slowly turn, emitting a dull roar.
"Target: Klausberg, Austria.
HYDRA's weapon development factory."
Dugan pointed to a red dot on the map and gave the final order, "Our mission is to infiltrate the factory perimeter, create chaos, attract enemy attention, and create conditions for Captain's infiltration and rescue operation.
Remember, we are the bait and the backup.
Understood?"
"Understood!" everyone responded in unison.
"Board the plane!"
The team members boarded the transport plane's gangway one by one.
Chu Hang walked last, looking back at the brightly lit Base, then up at the inky black night sky.
He took a deep breath; the air was cold, carrying a strong scent of aviation fuel.
He could feel his heart rate quickening, his blood warming.
This wasn't fear, but an indescribable excitement.
He was finally going to personally participate in this magnificent era.
The plane vibrated violently, then slowly ascended, flying towards the unknown darkness.
Chu Hang found a seat and closed his eyes.
In his mind, that cold countdown continued to tick steadily.
"Remaining Cooldown Time: Three days, nine hours, forty-six minutes..."
Chapter 5: Parachuting? I've never practiced that!
It was late at night.
At this secret Allied airfield on the Austrian border, the temperature had already dropped below Zero, making everyone, who had just finished receiving their equipment and were feeling hot, shiver in unison.
Not far away, a C-47 transport plane was quietly parked at the end of the runway. Its two massive propellers had begun to slowly rotate.
Dugan stood at the bottom of the gangway, his iconic cigar clenched between his teeth. He didn't rush anyone, simply watching his team members walk over one by one, each laden with heavy equipment, their faces illuminated by the dim light cast by the transport plane, displaying various expressions.
Chu Hang was in the middle of the line, wrapped up like a zongzi.
He glanced at Logan, who was walking at the very front. That guy was still as fearless as ever, wearing only a thin leather jacket, unbuttoned to reveal his muscular chest underneath.
"Monster," Chu Hang mumbled to himself, pulling his collar tighter. Comparing physical fitness with such a non-human was simply asking for trouble.
"Listen up!" Dugan's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the roar of the plane, reaching everyone's ears clearly. "This operation is code-named Hell's Kitchen.
Our mission is to create enough chaos outside the target factory to draw out all of its guard forces.
Remember, we are bait, but we are not cannon fodder! I need every one of you to come back alive!"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over each person's face: "Captain America has already gone ahead. Our actions are to buy him time and create opportunities for him. Once you hear three continuous explosions from inside the factory, that's the signal that Captain America has succeeded. We will immediately provide covering fire for each other and retreat to the designated rendezvous point to the east. Is that clear?"
"Clear!" everyone responded in unison, their voices exceptionally loud in the cold night sky.
"Good, board the plane!"
At Dugan's command, the team members began to board the narrow gangway one by one.
Chu Hang found a middle seat and placed his heavy backpack at his feet. He could feel the vibration of the plane's engine traveling through the metal floor, pulsing through his entire body.
The team members gradually settled in, the cabin door was heavily closed, and the atmosphere inside instantly became oppressive and tense.
No one spoke.
Some were closing their eyes, trying to conserve every bit of energy before the operation began. Others were repeatedly checking their firearms and magazines, their fingers rubbing against the cold metal, as if it could bring them some comfort.
Logan, he immediately took the corner seat upon boarding, his combat knife resting across his knees, eyes closed as if he had already fallen asleep. But Chu Hangknew that at the slightest hint of danger, this Beastwould be the first to violently lash out.
Chu Hang looked around, he could feel the tension in the air, almost solidifying. These men were all veterans who had crawled out of piles of dead bodies, but facing the Nazis, no one dared to let their guard down.
He sighed, knowing he had to do something.
Dugan sat at the front of the cabin, silent, but he watched Chu Hang's every move.
He saw Chu Hang distributing food, saw the calmness on his face that was out of place with the tense atmosphere around him, and saw how he, with just a few words, managed to relax the team members' strained nerves. In his heart, his evaluation of this young man from the East unconsciously rose a few notches.
Before setting off, everyone was on edge. At such a time, a seemingly casual gesture, a small sharing of food, could invisibly alleviate everyone's stress and bring them closer.
This kid, he didn't seem like a new recruit, but rather a born battlefield leader.
"Chu, you don't seem scared at all?" Dugan's voice suddenly rang out. He turned his head, his sharp gaze fixed on Chu Hang.
Chu Hang was chewing chocolate. Hearing the question, he swallowed what was in his mouth, grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth: "Scared, of course I'm scared. Scared to death. But what's the use of being scared? German guns won't turn into water pistols just because you're scared.
Hunger makes your limbs weak, and cold makes you slow to react. These are the most deadly things on the battlefield. So, Officer, before being killed by the enemy, I'd rather be a well-fed ghost first."
His words were half-truth, half-false, sounding like the twisted logic of a battle-hardened Soldier who had experienced countless life-and-death situations, yet also revealing a certain open-mindedness that saw through life and death.
The atmosphere in the cabin visibly lightened due to his few jokes. Even Jimmy Morita, who usually had a stern face, couldn't help but smile, pushing up his glasses on his nose.
Dugan looked at him deeply, said nothing more, just silently pushed his cigar further into his mouth, but the admiration in his eyes grew even stronger.
Chu Hang, however, was secretly cursing his luck.
How could I not be scared? I'm practically pissing myself, okay!
The reason he appeared so calm was, first, to reassure his teammates, because higher team morale meant a greater chance of survival. Second, he knew he had the biggest trump card, the Healing Factor; as long as he wasn't blown to bits or shot in the head, he would always survive.
His only worry was that his ability was still on cooldown.
Remaining cooldown: three days and nine hours...
He had to ensure he was alive and kicking before meeting Captain America.
Just as he was lost in thought, the plane suddenly shuddered violently!
A violent turbulence, so intense it was impossible to sit still, swept through the cabin, shaking everyone from side to side.
Immediately after, a piercing alarm blared throughout the entire cabin! Red emergency lights flashed continuously.
"Anti-aircraft guns! It's the Germany's anti-aircraft positions! We've been spotted!" The pilot's voice, distorted by terror, roared from the cockpit.
"Thump! Thump! Thump!"
A series of dull thuds came from outside the fuselage—those were the Impact waves from anti-aircraft shells exploding around the plane.
Chu Hang's heart leaped into his throat.
Damn it, this wasn't in the plot! In the movie, Captain America infiltrated alone in a small plane, and the Howling Commandos only met up with him later. Why was the transport plane they were on being shot down as a target halfway through?
Was this a butterfly effect caused by me, this variable? Or was it just that this part wasn't filmed in the movie?
"Boom!"
A deafening roar came from the right side of the plane, and the entire cabin suddenly tilted to one side. Chu Hangclearly saw, through the porthole, thick smoke and Fire billowing from the base of the right wing, like a struggling Fire dragon.
"Right engine on Fire! We're losing altitude! Controls are failing!" The pilot's voice was filled with despair and a whimper.
"Prepare to parachute! Everyone! Check your parachutes! Prepare to parachute!" Dugan reacted extremely quickly. He grabbed the overhead grab bar, steadied himself, and roared with all his might.
Parachute?
Chu Hang's mind went "Buzz," a complete blank.
In his previous life, he hadn't even tried bungee jumping; in this life, he was going straight to extreme high-altitude parachuting? And on a battlefield under a hail of bullets? Jumping out of a plane that was about to fall apart?
He instinctively touched the heavy parachute pack on his back. Before departure, Dugan had indeed taught them how to use the thing, but that was just theory! He had never actually practiced!
"Don't you dare panic! Check your parachutes! Listen to my command!" Dugan yelled, staggering to the rear of the cabin and kicking open the heavy door.
"Whoosh—"
The bone-chilling gale instantly poured in, mixed with snowflakes and a strong smell of gunpowder, making it impossible to even open one's eyes, and breathing became difficult.
Through the open cabin door, Chu Hang could see a pitch-Black expanse below, full of endless, undulating snow-capped mountains and forests.
"We've deviated from our planned course! Below us is an unknown mountainous area! After jumping, try to gather towards the factory with lights to the east! Remember, finding Captain America is the top priority!" Dugan, facing the gale, leaned half his body out of the cabin, loudly giving the final instructions.
"Go! Go! Go! Jump!"
He led the way, leaping out of the cabin door without hesitation, his figure instantly swallowed by the boundless darkness.
Immediately after, Gabe, Jimmy, and the other team members also gritted their teeth, clutching their guns, and jumped down, mimicking Dugan.
Inside the cabin, soon only Chu Hang and two young Soldiers, whose faces were pale with fright and who were trembling all over, remained.
The plane's descent speed was increasing rapidly, and the creaking sound from the fuselage was grating, as if it would disintegrate in mid-air at any second.
"Jump! Are you still waiting to die?!" Chu Hang yelled at the two Soldiers who were almost scared senseless.
Although he himself was scared to death, his legs shaking like a sieve, he knew that staying meant certain death. Jumping out, perhaps there was still a glimmer of hope.
The two Soldiers were startled awake by his roar, as if injected with a final surge of courage. They looked at each other, then screamed and scrambled to the cabin door, jumping out with their eyes closed.
Now, only Chu Hang was left in the entire cabin.
He clung to the cold edge of the cabin door, watching the rapidly passing Black mountain shadows below, his heart pounding as if it would burst from his chest.
He took a deep breath, the icy air making him cough. He frantically psyched himself up: What are you scared of?! Chu Hang, what are you scared of?! I have the Healing Factor! Even if I break a leg, it'll grow back! Even if the parachute doesn't open, as long as I don't land face-first and turn into a puddle of mush, I'll still be saved! It's better than staying here and being blown to ashes!
With that thought, he steeled himself, gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and leaped!
Suddenly, a massive fireball erupted in the Black night. The light and heat that burst forth momentarily illuminated half the sky, and also illuminated Chu Hang's face, etched with terror.
Chu Hang's heart, along with the exploding Fireball, sank to the bottom.
Chapter 6: Landing face-first isn't fun.
The explosion was silent at first, a blinding white light swallowed half the night sky, followed by a huge and twisted mushroom cloud rising into the air, the rolling flames dyeing the surrounding clouds a bizarre orange-red.
A few seconds later, the dull and oppressive sound of the explosion arrived belatedly, the sound making his chest feel tight and his head buzz.
The subsequent heatwave, coming from a great distance, washed over him, adding an untimely burning sensation to his face, which was so cold it was almost numb.
Then, his mind, which had been stunned by the grand spectacle, was instantly recaptured by primal fear.
I'm falling!
This thought, like a cold bolt of lightning, split open his brain, which had become sluggish from hypoxia and fright.
An eternal sense of weightlessness instantly enveloped his entire body. He felt like a pebble shot from a slingshot, helplessly plummeting into the bottomless dark abyss below.
The fierce wind, like countless sharp knives, scraped every corner of his body from all directions, howling like ghosts and wolves.
He tried to open his mouth to shout something, but the wind rushed in and blocked all his sounds, leaving only a 'whooshing' sound, like a leaking bellows.
He tried hard to open his eyes, but the wind pressure was too great, making his tears stream down, and everything in front of him was blurry, distorted light and shadow.
"The rip cord! The parachute's rip cord!"
He finally remembered this most critical thing from the chaos.
His hands began to frantically search his body. The cold gloves made his sense of touch extremely dull. His chest, abdomen, both sides of his thighs... everywhere were bulging equipment bags and webbing, but no matter how he felt around, he found nothing but cold metal buckles and rough canvas.
"Damn it! Where is it?!" Chu Hang roared frantically in his heart. His heart pounded like an out-of-control metronome, and he could even hear the 'buzzing' of blood rushing in his ears.
That old man Dugan had indeed demonstrated it once on the plane, but who would have thought that in less than an hour, he would actually need to use it? His mind raced, trying to recall the brief lesson. Dugan seemed to have said that the rip cord was on the right side of the chest, a T-shaped rip cord painted red for easy identification in the dark.
But now he was tumbling endlessly in the air, he could barely find where his right hand was.
"Calm down! Calm down! Chu Hang, you motherfucker, calm down!" He desperately shouted to himself in his mind. In his previous life, he was a programmer, best at finding the bug that crashed the entire system in complex code. The situation was the same now; he had to find that life-saving 'switch' before he splattered into a meat patty.
He remembered a parachuting technique he'd read about in some magazine, to spread his limbs as much as possible, like a large octopus, using air resistance to stabilize his posture.
He struggled to stretch his body, spreading his arms and legs. This action exhausted all his strength; he could feel his muscles fighting against the strong wind, and though it was difficult, the tendency of his body to tumble was indeed slowing down.
Finally, he managed to control his body, settling into a standard face-down, back-up diving posture.
Good, now he could distinguish up from down.
He gripped the metal buckle of the chest webbing tightly with his left hand, and his right hand began to carefully search the area of his right chest. What he felt was the cold stock of an M1 submachine gun, and hard canvas bags filled with magazines.
Nothing! Still nothing!
Did I remember wrong? Or is this parachute pack a defective product? Getting defective equipment on the battlefield was nothing new. In an instant, Chu Hang's heart sank to the bottom. He thought of his previous life, dying from overwork, and now in this life, was he going to die from equipment quality issues? This way of dying was too damn black humorous.
Just as he was beginning to curse the quartermaster's entire family in various languages in his mind, his fingertips finally touched something different. It was a cold, metal ring fixed in a buckle.
This is it!
Chu Hang felt a surge of ecstasy, adrenaline pumping wildly, and without thinking too much, he pulled with all his might!
"Creak—"
A teeth-grinding metallic friction sound rang out, and then he felt as if he had been violently struck from behind by a charging rhinoceros!
An irresistible, immense force came from the parachute pack on his back, instantly spreading throughout his body via the harness. He was yanked upwards as if by an invisible giant hand, and the frantic plummeting abruptly stopped.
"Ugh—!"
Chu Hang let out a painful, distorted groan. The immense pulling force almost tore him in half on the spot. He felt as if his shoulders were being ripped apart, and an indescribable, soul-shattering pain shot through his legs, making him seriously doubt if his happiness for the rest of his life was just gone.
However, amidst the intense pain, a familiar warm current also followed.
Healing Factor!
He could clearly feel that the muscle fibers, almost torn by the harness, were reconnecting and repairing at an incredible speed.
The excruciating pain lasted only a hellish few seconds, then rapidly transformed into an intense soreness, which then slowly faded away.
Although it was still very uncomfortable, like running ten thousand meters and then doing five hundred squats, at least he didn't pass out on the spot, nor did any important parts actually get torn off.
He could finally catch his breath.
Above his head, the huge parachute quietly unfurled in the darkness, like a white dandelion blooming at midnight. The terrifying sound of the wind disappeared, replaced by an eerie silence, where he could only hear his own heavy, 'huffing' breaths.
He had survived.
Chu Hang dangled in mid-air, like a sausage hanging in the wind, swaying with the air currents, completely exhausted.
He looked up at the huge white canvas above, then down at the bottomless darkness below, and a sense of relief at having survived a disaster welled up within him.
Damn it, if anyone ever tells me parachuting is exciting and fun again, I'll throw them off the Empire State Building, without a parachute.
He composed himself slightly and began to observe his surroundings.
The night sky was very dark, with no moon, only a few sparse stars twinkling through gaps in the clouds. The fire caused by the distant plane crash had gradually died down.
Using that faint light, he could vaguely see a few small black dots in the sky, just like him; those were his teammates.
Everyone had jumped out, which was good news.
He tried hard to recall the one and a half sentences of parachute control techniques Dugan had taught him, attempting to pull the control lines on both sides, wanting to drift towards his teammates.
But it was his first time, and his movements were clumsy. After pulling for a long time, not only did he not get closer, but a sudden crosswind actually pushed him further away.
Forget it, I'll leave it to fate. Chu Hang simply gave up struggling. The most important thing now was to land safely.
However, reality is always much harsher than plans.
"Oh no!"
Just as he had mentally prepared himself, his feet suddenly dropped!
The edge of his parachute had been firmly caught by the dense canopy of a tall pine tree.
"Thud!"
His back slammed hard against the tree trunk covered in rough bark, jarring him completely, making stars burst before his eyes, and he felt as if his spine was about to break.
"Cough... cough cough..." Chu Hang spit out a mouthful of pine needles and snow, feeling pain everywhere in his body.
His Healing Factor was working hard to repair the scratches from the branches, sending waves of itching that made him even more uncomfortable.
What kind of situation is this?! Dying before even achieving success, not even a hero yet, and already a hanging bat.
Chu Hang took out his knife and cut the connecting straps.
"Splash!"
He plunged headfirst into a soft snowdrift.
He had finally landed safely.
He pulled out the waterproof compass from his pocket and looked at it; after a slight wobble, the needle steadily pointed North.
He then looked up at the faint, dying firelight on the distant mountaintop, orienting himself. Dugan had said to gather in the direction of the factory to the East.
He had to find his teammates as soon as possible, or find a place to hide. Wandering alone in this unknown enemy-occupied forest was no different from suicide.
Just as he took two steps, an extremely subtle sound, yet incredibly clear in the dead silence, suddenly came from the darkness not far to his left front.
"Crunch."
The sound was very light, like someone accidentally stepping on a dry branch covered in snow.
Chu Hang's body instantly froze, his submachine gun almost instinctively raised, its dark muzzle pointing in the direction of the sound.
His heart suddenly jumped into his throat again.
Was it a teammate? Or... German soldiers? Or, some kind of Beast in this forest?