On the opposite side of the building, the support squad Hill dispatched to assist Natasha and Barton bypassed The Hand and Hong Fei's team by scaling the elevator shaft. They made their way straight to the floor where Big Head was stationed. Moving with practiced stealth, the ten-person squad had no idea their every move was being monitored. Big Head's surveillance was as comprehensive as Hill's—whatever she could see, he could see too.
Though his earlier creations had been little more than "artificial idiots," Big Head was now on the brink of a breakthrough. When the support squad arrived, armed and ready, their thermal imaging equipment showed nothing but empty space. Big Head and his team had already vanished.
Meanwhile, on the north side of the same floor, Hong Fei's team advanced alongside Frank, Ivan, and Jessica. Frank, positioned on the left, was a walking arsenal—submachine gun in hand, Gatling gun at his waist, and an RPG slung over his shoulder. Ivan, on the right, wielded his signature whips, their sharp cracks severing anything in their path with lethal precision. Jessica soared above, her palm-mounted Pulse Cannon raining down indiscriminate fire.
The trio carved through the building floor by floor, meeting little resistance. When Hong Fei's team clashed with Rumlow's forces, they simultaneously ran into Coulson's team. While Rumlow's combatants showcased the seamless coordination of elite soldiers, Coulson's side was a spectacle of high-tech weaponry and superhuman abilities.
It wasn't that Rumlow lacked advanced tech—HYDRA boasted battle-hardened operatives with far more covert and overt operations under their belts than most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Luke Cage led the charge, his bulletproof skin rendering him invulnerable, while Matt's heightened senses dragged ninjas out of every shadow.
Unlike Luke, Matt maintained his peculiar aversion to killing, even after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. Combined with the group's arsenal of advanced weaponry, they breezed through the initial resistance. When the two sides finally met, bullets ricocheted off Frank's combat armor in a staccato rhythm, sparks flying with each impact.
Frank didn't hesitate. He fired a warning shot before barking, "S.H.I.E.L.D., you've got one chance to surrender." Behind him, Ivan and Jessica tensed, ready to strike. Across the room, Coulson recognized the combat armor and realized they weren't dealing with The Hand.
After the initial barrage, Coulson ordered a ceasefire and shouted, "If you know S.H.I.E.L.D., you know what your actions mean. Step aside—now." Frank cut him off. "There's nothing left upstairs. What's the point of going up?"
Coulson froze, then quickly called Hill. "Is The Hand cleared out upstairs?" "Looks like it," Hill replied. "The support squad didn't find Natasha or Barton. They're heading down now, and the path's littered with The Hand's dead."
Coulson inhaled sharply. The Rand Building had 36 floors, and they were only on the 16th. That meant 20 floors had been cleared in record time. Despite the small opposing force, their efficiency was staggering.
Coulson gritted his teeth. "You've been surrounded. If you're willing to lay down your weapons now—" Before he could finish, Frank answered with the energy cannon mounted on his chest. The room erupted into chaos as gunfire and whips tore through the air. Within seconds, Coulson's team began to take casualties, while Frank's combat armor remained unscathed.
The odds were stacked against them from the beginning. "Officer, send me up there," Luke Cage insisted. "At least I can keep one of them occupied." Coulson shook his head firmly. "They can fly. You can't." Moments later, the casualties mounted again.
Frank and his team obeyed Hong Fei's orders without hesitation, showing no mercy toward their opponents. Ivan, in particular, looked even more savage than he had when targeting The Hand earlier. Coulson had no choice but to lead his team in a fighting retreat across the floor. Behind Hong Fei, Big Head dropped the three captives, laying them side by side with Tony.
Big Head glanced at Rumlow and his men. "Boss, want me to deal with them?" "Not yet," Hong Fei replied. He stepped forward, and the opposing side raised their weapons in unison. If Rumlow had been alone, Hong Fei might have greeted him with a mocking "Hail HYDRA." Instead, his gaze swept past Rumlow and settled on a helmeted agent standing behind him. "Bakuto, where's your sword?"
Rumlow whipped his head around, and the nearby agents followed his gaze. The helmeted agent, outwardly unremarkable, suddenly found himself isolated. Without hesitation, he slammed his gun to the ground and raised his hands. "I surrender. I'll cooperate with S.H.I.E.L.D. I know The Hand's secrets."
Rumlow shot a sharp look, and several agents moved to restrain the traitor. Just then, a series of metallic clinks echoed through the room. Rumlow barely had time to react before diving toward the nearest pillar. Boom! A blinding flash erupted as grenades detonated, shrapnel spraying in every direction.
The razor-sharp fragments tore through clothing and flesh, embedding themselves in bodies and bones. Without combat armor, the agents' bulletproof vests offered only partial protection. Hong Fei summoned an energy shield in front of him, and the fragments clattered harmlessly to the ground.
The explosion's deafening roar and shockwave left the group decimated. Those closest to the blast were already dead, while others writhed on the floor, clutching bloody wounds and screaming in agony. Hong Fei drew his gun and advanced, methodically picking off the survivors with precise shots.
Rumlow crouched behind a pillar, his shoulder slashed and leg bleeding. He peeked out to assess the situation, only to come face-to-face with Big Head's round, black glass-like head. Before he could react, his limbs moved involuntarily, carrying him behind Big Head where he stood motionless.
After finishing off the last of the agents, Hong Fei kicked aside a pile of corpses. Suddenly, a streak of cold light shot toward his face with blinding speed. Hong Fei's hand shot out, his palm sliding along the blade as sparks flew. With a twist of his wrist, he disarmed Bakuto, sending the hilt clattering to the ground.
As Bakuto scrambled to his feet, Hong Fei stepped forward, channeling Qi into his leg. A swift side kick connected with Bakuto's chest, sending him flying several meters into the air. He slammed into the wall, blood spraying from his mouth.
Hong Fei closed the distance in an instant. Bakuto, hunched over, raised his hand to summon an energy shield. Hong Fei retracted his arm and unleashed a sudden punch from his abdomen. The Crushing Fist shattered the shield with ferocious speed, the impact echoing through the room.
The force tore through his palm and shattered the bones in his arms. His screams cut off as both limbs went limp, dangling like broken puppet strings. Hong Fei seized his throat in one fluid motion, driving his knee upward with brutal precision. The crack of snapping vertebrae echoed through the air, thick with the copper tang of blood. Before Bakuto's body hit the floor, Hong Fei was already turning away.
Rumlow's limbs unlocked with sudden freedom. His hand flashed toward his thigh holster—only for a gunshot to blast it clean off his belt before his fingers touched steel. Hong Fei's pistol slid back into its sheath as he charged. Rumlow barely had time to clench his fists before the man was upon him.
Their exchange of blows lasted seconds. Rumlow's eyes widened mid-punch—this speed, this power defied human limits. Then Hong Fei pivoted, slipping past his guard like smoke. The upward palm strike connected with his jaw before he could blink. Stars exploded behind his eyelids as he reeled backward.
Hong Fei's fingers locked around his wrists. When the leg came up, Rumlow's reflexive head turn became his undoing—his chin met the rising heel with sickening perfection. He sailed through the air and crashed down hard. Big Head stood frozen at the sidelines, barely daring to breathe.
He'd been on the receiving end of Hong Fei's fists before, but watching from this proximity made every impact feel personal. His own bones ached in sympathy. Rumlow still drew ragged breaths, but his shattered jaw sat crooked now, twisting his face into something unrecognizable.
Three skill cards now—Madame Gao, Bakuto, Rumlow. Distant gunfire crescendoed from across the floor, delaying Hong Fei's inspection. Then Coulson's team rounded the corner. The scene that greeted them: Hong Fei and Big Head standing over Natasha's unconscious form, Iron Man splayed like a broken toy, agents strewn across the tiles like discarded dolls.
Coulson's mouth went dry. Forty agents deployed. Five lost en route. Now? Fewer than ten remained standing between his squad and the reinforcements. This wasn't a battle—it was slaughter. He should've surrendered hours ago. More footsteps pounded behind him. Seeing rifles rise, Coulson barked, "Hold fire! I said hold—"
The order drowned under a thunderous impact. Jessica's knee drove into Luke Cage's chest, slamming him against the wall. Cage ignored the command, hefting a chunk of rubble to smash across her visor. They sprang apart, then collided again in a whirlwind of strikes.
Jessica moved like lightning, her blows cratering concrete, yet Cage matched her—no, pressed her. Big Head's eye twitched at the display. His sideways glance confirmed Hong Fei was already moving, sword drawn. Each footfall made the floor tremble.
After five steps, he held the sword in front, channeled Qi into the blade until it hummed with lethal resonance. Jessica sensed it first—she vaulted backward just as the air itself seemed to sharpen. Luke Cage turned straight into the oncoming edge, its deadly arc leaving him no room to dodge.
Luke Cage threw up his arms, crossing them protectively over his chest. His eyes burned with fury as he roared at Hong Fei. He didn't believe Hong Fei could penetrate his skin—how could he? He had no idea this was the same man who had taken down both him and Matt before. Hong Fei's appearance had changed completely, his Cross-blade replaced by the gleaming Sword of Sif.
Hong Fei, fully aware of Luke Cage's impenetrable defense, didn't hold back. His Qi surged like a torrent, flooding into the sword with unrelenting force. In that moment, he felt the Sword of Sif shift—something about it changed.
The plain blade erupted with a blinding golden light, its energy radiating outward uncontrollably. The sword tip touched Luke Cage's skin, and instead of the sparks he'd expected, it slid through effortlessly. There was no resistance—just the clean, brutal sound of metal slicing through flesh.
The blade pierced through Luke's arms, drove deep into his chest, and burst out his back. Even Luke Cage froze, stunned by the impossibility of it. The pain of his skin tearing and flesh being carved barely registered. After a moment of shock, he snarled, his face contorted in agony, and threw his arms outward in a desperate attempt to dislodge the blade.
His immense vitality meant such a wound wasn't necessarily fatal—but Hong Fei wasn't giving him the chance. He released the sword, twisted his body mid-air, and swung his leg like a battering ram. The metal sole of his boot slammed into the hilt with crushing force.
The blade tore through Luke's body, driving him backward until he crashed into the wall with a deafening clang. The hilt pressed against his arms, his arms crushed his chest, and his back pinned him to the wall. A single sword, driven straight through.
Big Head muttered, "Is this guy always this reckless?"
"Luke Cage!" Matt burst out from behind Coulson, baton in hand. Coulson reached for him, but Matt was already moving. Hong Fei spun, snatching the staff with one hand and drawing his gun with the other. Two shots rang out—Matt's legs buckled, blood soaking his pants. Hong Fei pressed the gun barrel to Matt's forehead.
Just as Coulson opened his mouth to protest, Hong Fei shoved the gun barrel between his teeth. Coulson's hands shot up instantly, his surrender swift and instinctive.