The castle's underground warehouse spanned over a thousand square meters, crammed with an arsenal of weapons and ammunition. Among the stockpile, the wheeled self-propelled rocket launcher stood out most. It was a formidable piece of equipment Hong Fei had only ever seen on television—the whistling roar of its launch, the dazzling trail of flames still vivid in his memory.
Perhaps it was the launcher's presence that made Frank suspect Hong Fei had designs on Sokovia. After all, driving it out could obliterate the Sokovian government officials at the foot of the mountain in a single strike. Frank could probably pull it off alone, but a rocket launcher deserved at least a modicum of respect.
Beyond the launcher, Hong Fei's eyes swept over thicker mortars, heavier shells, grenade launchers, portable missile systems, and anti-aircraft guns. These bulky, large-caliber weapons dominated the warehouse floor.
Standard firearms, bullets, and other military gear caught less of his attention. Those were reserved for the 120 elite security personnel. Still, seeing them gave him a sense of security. Land and guns trumped cash any day. With an arsenal like this, you could sleep soundly—and wake up grinning.
On this quiet afternoon, Hong Fei took advantage of the rare downtime to study the Sword of Sif. Beyond its exceptional craftsmanship, the blade carried a powerful force. It was this force that had allowed him to pierce Luke Cage's bulletproof skin at the Rand Building. Qi was the key to unlocking that latent power.
The sword's ability to channel Qi without resistance likely stemmed from its material—Uru metal, a prized substance from Asgard. Yet, despite its capacity to store magical energy, the metal seemed unwilling to hold Qi. There were only two explanations: either Uru couldn't store Qi, or Hong Fei hadn't found the right method.
Not ready to give up, he continued experimenting. He was interrupted by No. 3's voice from beside him. "Boss, No. 4 and No. 5 have reported back."
Hong Fei didn't lower the sword. "Go on."
"They've infiltrated two oil exploration teams. Both are currently at sea."
"Good. Tell them to stay sharp. If they spot anything unusual, report it immediately—even if it risks exposing them. But they'd better not get themselves killed."
"Understood, Boss."
Next year, the Russian oil exploration team would discover Captain America's crashed fighter plane. Inside, they'd find the iconic shield and Steve Rogers, frozen in time. S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers would welcome back their future leader. A good thing, indeed.
Hong Fei's original plan had been to use "Deceive Time and Crowd" to pull Steve into his orbit and play the long game. Essentially, bluff big, then small, and keep the act going daily. Now, with Coulson's "Affable Smile" in his arsenal, communication would be smoother.
Captain America was both a good teammate and a formidable opponent. Hong Fei wanted to test the limits of his 50/50 rule—and, of course, there were the skill cards. If Steve could hold his own against Hong Fei for an entire day, the rewards would be substantial.
The next day brought an unexpected visitor.
Baron Strucker. Upon their first meeting, Baron Strucker, monocle over his right eye, exuded politeness. "Mr. Hong, my apologies for the intrusion. As neighbors, I should have visited sooner, but I've been… preoccupied."
"You're too kind, Mr. Strucker. Please, come in." Hong Fei smiled. All that talk about being busy was pure nonsense.
Hong Fei doubted Strucker had even noticed when he purchased the castle. Even if he had, the man wouldn't have cared—until Hong Fei's expansion brought territory right to his doorstep. Suddenly, the Baron found time in his schedule. What an interesting coincidence.
Two men followed Strucker like shadows, their crisp suits failing to disguise their true allegiance. HYDRA, unmistakably.
Had they uncovered more about his identity? Rumlow had been at Rand Tower. If HYDRA dug deep enough, even Fury—still blind to their infiltration—wouldn't be able to conceal what he'd already uncovered. As they entered the hall, Strucker's gaze locked onto the nano armor displayed at the center.
"Just a decoration," Hong Fei said, swirling his drink. "Nice, isn't it?"
Strucker blinked, his smile returning. "Exquisite. Quite distinctive."
Once seated, No. 3 served tea. Strucker leaned forward first. "You've built quite an empire, Mr. Hong. What line of business are you in?"
"Small trades, nothing noteworthy. And you?"
"Oh, much the same. Dabbling in modest ventures." Strucker's chuckle was smooth as he glanced toward the armed patrols outside the window. "Which explains why I settled in such a... humble location. The grander estates are beyond my means."
The next half-hour passed in a dance of pleasantries, each sentence polished and empty.
After Strucker's departure, Hong Fei ordered No. 3 to tighten security. The Baron's questions, his lingering looks—he didn't know. Not yet.
Outside, the moment the car door closed, Strucker's pleasant mask dissolved. "His background isn't clean. Dig deeper."
"Yes, sir."
"Buying land right up to our walls? He's planning something. And that castle..." His fingers tapped the armrest. "Get someone inside. I want to know exactly what he's hiding."
Hong Fei wasn't worried. Their brief encounter confirmed Strucker was a strategist, a puppeteer—though "strategist" meant little when measured against him.
HYDRA was a hydra in truth: many heads, each with its own agenda. During Captain America's era, the Red Skull had nearly unified them all. After his fall, some remnants burrowed into Europe's shadows, while others infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.'s precursor through Operation Paperclip.
The European holdouts split—the Malick family on one side, Strucker on the other. The infiltrators, led by Zola, rebuilt HYDRA within S.H.I.E.L.D. itself, now Alexander Pierce's domain.
The Malicks clung to HYDRA's original fanaticism, worshipping their exiled god Hive. Generations had sacrificed everything to bring him home. Pierce preferred pragmatism, wielding HYDRA's resources to seize control—the Winter Soldier program just one weapon in his arsenal.
Baron Strucker had inherited the black technology knowledge and research networks forged under the Red Skull's reign. And beyond these factions, others lurked: Madame HYDRA and her ilk, each with their own designs.
An organization spanning over a thousand years had roots deeper than anyone could imagine, and its bloated structure was undeniable. Yet HYDRA didn't strike fear into Hong Fei's heart. Their combined strength paled in comparison to even one Thor. The more you cared about, the more leverage HYDRA had to manipulate you.
But someone like Master Hong? They had few options. At most, they could target those close to him, expose his identity, sow discord between him and other organizations, or set him up with more enemies. Dr. Helen Cho, though, was well-protected with her own nano armor.
Anyone who could craft armor for others but neglected themselves probably lacked the intelligence to create it in the first place. If Hong Fei decided to act, it would start with a barrage of firepower, followed by systematically eliminating them one by one.
Much like how Hong Fei intentionally kept S.H.I.E.L.D. around—an organization whose roots he knew well. They were convenient to manipulate when problems arose. Tell them to lie down, and they wouldn't kneel; pat them, and they'd adjust their stance. HYDRA was better kept alive.
When the time came, they'd serve as higher-level cannon fodder, more numerous than The Hand, and even useful for building reputation. Organizations like these were rare gems. Baron Strucker still had his uses. The twins were likely in his hands now.
The experiments might have already begun, but significant progress would only come once Strucker acquired the Mind Stone. When Quicksilver and the Witch emerged, Master Hong would swoop in to harvest them. Far more efficient than grinding away on his own.
Time flew. Christmas had passed, and New Year's Day was on the horizon. On Christmas, Peter called to thank Hong Fei for his gift, avoiding any mention of Chinese class. The gift? A wristwatch. Superficially, it was just a wristwatch—but in reality, it was an expensive wristwatch. Nano armor was unnecessary. Peter's childhood was happy and safe now. If he died, Hong Fei could always resurrect him.
No need to distract him with flashy gadgets. Kid, play when it's time to play, study when it's time to study. Enjoy these carefree years while they last. The castle was decked out in festive decorations for Christmas and New Year, following local traditions.
Hong Fei handed out generous red envelopes to everyone, even the five guys wandering who-knows-where.
Big Head: "Thank you, Boss! You're the best! Kowtowing to you!"
Abomination: "Thanks, Boss. When's the next fight?"
Ivan: "Thank you, Boss."
Jessica: "Thanks, Boss. I'll work even harder!"
Frank: "Received."
Good. Their replies meant they were still alive, saving him the trouble of mourning them.
January 1, 2011, 7 PM. While everyone celebrated the New Year, Master Hong was deep in thought, plotting Earth's future. At 8 PM, Natasha sent a message, inviting him to break someone out of prison.
Helen Cho threw away Hong Fei's phone and pounced on him like a hungry wolf.