Marvel: Starting as a Time Criminal, Stealing Powers

Under the astonished gazes of many S.H.I.E.L.D. staff members, the four entered the elevator.

But instead of going up, they went down.

Beneath the Triskelion, a massive area—hundreds of meters deep—had been excavated. It stored classified documents, powerful artifacts, and secrets that were never meant to see the light of day... including people.

-99th floor.

Natasha Romanoff led Russell forward with the poise of a corporate receptionist. Behind them followed Nick Fury and Captain America.

They arrived at a massive data center, nearly 1,000 square meters in size. Nick Fury stepped up and used iris scanning, fingerprint, password input, and security code to unlock the system and activate the central AI.

He then turned to Russell and said politely:

"Mr. Russell, you can access whatever information you're looking for via voice commands."

"Natasha and Steve will wait outside. I'll return upstairs to handle other matters."

Russell gave a casual wave, dismissing them.

Once alone, he began browsing files—Mutant data, secret incidents, religious organizations, demon sightings, and more.

The Ancient One was too unreliable. He'd have to investigate everything himself.

Outside the data room.

Nick Fury had already left.

Steve leaned over and muttered, "Man, this is too humiliating for Fury. We're S.H.I.E.L.D., you know. Even Xavier's School and the Brotherhood are technically under our supervision!"

"In name only," Natasha replied coolly.

Steve snorted.

"Even so, it's still supervision. And letting some outsider browse everything? Aren't you worried S.H.I.E.L.D.'s dirty laundry will be exposed?"

He wasn't entirely wrong. S.H.I.E.L.D. was known to make the most "efficient" decisions in a crisis—even if it meant sacrificing a few people.

Natasha sighed and, unable to hold back anymore, said sharply:

"Don't you get it, Rogers?"

"This guy isn't someone even Fury—or S.H.I.E.L.D.—can afford to offend. He's not some puppet like the U.S. President."

She was good at reading people.

Back in the room, she'd seen the casual look in Russell's eyes after removing his sunglasses—serene, controlled, yet unfathomably deep.

More importantly, she'd caught a flicker of unease in Nick Fury's eyes.

And they were 230 meters beneath SHIELD's HQ.

Surrounded by containment protocols, anti-catastrophe systems, and exotic weapons acquired through immense resources—even Magneto and Professor X wouldn't leave unscathed if they got trapped down here.

But Russell?

He was completely calm.

He was either a total idiot…

Or a being so powerful it was impossible to gauge.

And Nick Fury wasn't the type to act respectfully toward idiots.

Steve shrugged.

"Really? I don't buy it."

Natasha rolled her eyes.

A few hours later.

Just as Captain America was nodding off, the alloy doors of the computer room finally opened.

Natasha instantly perked up, maintaining a flawless professional smile.

"Mr. Russell, the director says you're welcome to access the system anytime."

"If you're hungry, you can order food here or dine upstairs."

"And of course, if you have any other requests, S.H.I.E.L.D. is at your service."

Russell tilted his head and smirked.

"Any request?"

The look in his eyes made Natasha pause. Her breath hitched.

Steve immediately picked up on the tone and was about to step in with his usual charm defense move.

But before he could say a word, Russell's gaze swept over to him.

Steve's face went pale.

He instinctively clenched his backside.

Oh no. Not again.

This guy's just like Johnny Storm!

Russell, however, was just annoyed.

He was planning to ask Steve to do a live performance of "Avengers Assemble" just to see if it made him curl up from second-hand embarrassment.

But now?

He shook his head and turned to Natasha.

"Relax. Just joking."

"If there are any Mutant-related missions, make sure I'm brought along."

"But I won't eat here."

Natasha threw a glare at Steve, then returned to smiling at Russell.

"That's no problem. But how should I contact you?"

Russell replied casually:

"Just call my name. I'll hear it."

Natasha blinked, confused.

She'd assumed he was about to ask for her number or assign her as a personal liaison.

But instead, he told her to… shout his name?

What is this, a fairy tale?!

More alarmingly, she was starting to doubt her own charm.

Steve, watching from the side, caught the flicker of confusion in Natasha's eyes.

He scoffed internally.

Ha, woman.

Like I haven't dated a hundred girls since I thawed out.

He lowered his head, not wanting Russell to notice him again.

As for "calling his name"? Yeah, right. No one could be that omniscient.

At that moment, Natasha's watch vibrated.

She politely nodded to Russell and removed her left earring, placing it in her ear.

"Director, do you need something from Mr. Russell?"

The earring was a comms device.

Ten seconds passed.

Natasha turned to Russell, surprise on her face.

"Sir, the director says he needs to speak with you. It's related to the Mutants."

Even Russell was surprised.

He'd just said he wanted in on any Mutant cases—now one landed in his lap?

Coincidence?

Or was this... the beginning of something?

He nodded and gestured for her to lead the way.

They took the elevator up to the top floor.

This timeline didn't have a World Security Council. Nick Fury's office was at the top of the Triskelion.

Upon entry, they passed through a minimalistic reception area.

Black Widow stayed in the outer room. Even if Steve disliked Fury, he knew not to overstep.

Russell entered the meeting room alone.

Nick Fury had everything ready. Without delay, he turned on the projection.

Russell looked up.

On screen was a desolate underground crypt—somewhere in Texas.

Dozens of mutilated bodies lay in heaps.

Blood flowed across the stone floor, forming a strange hexagram magic circle, surrounded by eerie symbols.

When the video ended, Fury spoke gravely:

"This is an underground cemetery in a small Texas town."

"All the victims were Mutants."

"What do you make of it?"

If this were just a Mutant issue, Fury wouldn't have called Russell.

But the symbols, the arrangement… this was clearly the result of ritualistic magic—a blood sacrifice.

The Ancient One had told him:

"If something like this happens, find Russell. He won't say no."

Russell didn't hesitate.

"Let's go."

Fury, looking more serious than ever, nodded—

"This incident involves Mutants. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs to document any communication with Charles," Nick Fury said.

"Can I assign someone to accompany you?"

Russell didn't mind and nodded in agreement.

Nick Fury breathed a sigh of relief, then opened the door and called in Black Widow and Captain America, instructing them to join the mission.

It was a pity Phil Coulson wasn't around. For this kind of investigation, the honest guy would've been the first choice.

At this moment, Natasha Romanoff stepped forward.

"I'll pilot the jet. The Quinjet can get us there within an hour."

Steve's face turned pale.

He had a psychological trauma from flying—especially fast flying.

Russell considered opening a portal using the scene's mental image as a locator. But when he saw Captain America's expression, he suddenly thought: Maybe flying's fun once in a while.

One hour later.

The Quinjet landed in the town of Grovely.

As soon as the hatch opened, Steve was the first to bolt out—only to immediately vomit.

This super soldier, enhanced by the serum, still couldn't handle aerial transport.

Russell turned to Natasha in confusion.

"If he's air sick, how does he usually go on missions?"

Natasha chuckled, covering her mouth.

"He throws up every time."

Russell didn't feel the slightest sympathy. He was actually in a better mood.

The location of the tomb was under a church on the outskirts of town. It had remained hidden—until today.

When the three of them arrived, the area was already secured by local police. However, they'd received orders not to enter the site.

After Natasha showed her credentials, the group was allowed to pass and entered the catacombs through a broken statue pedestal.

The underground structure looked like it was built in the 18th century. Skulls lined both sides of the narrow passage.

After walking 20 to 30 meters in, the tunnel opened up into a vast cavern—over 1,000 square meters in area.

Police floodlights had already been set up, so it was brightly lit.

As soon as they stepped inside, Natasha frowned, and Steve—who had just finished vomiting—nearly lost it again.

He'd fought in World War II. He'd seen gore and chaos, especially in battles against HYDRA. So blood and corpses shouldn't have affected him.

But this—this was on a whole different level.

The victims' intestines had been pulled from their bodies and hung from the cavern ceiling like sausage links.

Their heads had been decapitated and stacked together.

The eyes were missing, leaving gaping, soulless holes.

As for the torsos—they'd been dismembered. All the arms were connected into a giant ring, layered with raw flesh leading to the center—where the severed heads were placed.

And surrounding it all was a blood-drawn hexagram magic circle.

It looked as though these people had been carefully butchered and arranged… sacrificed like a gourmet offering to something otherworldly.

Russell's expression didn't change.

His will was strong. To him, the horrific scene was just lifeless meat. There wasn't even a trace of lingering soul energy.

"Ugh... Shouldn't this be Coulson's case?"

Steve couldn't take it anymore and let out a dry cough.

Natasha wasn't feeling great either. It wasn't just the gore—there was an eerie, unnatural coldness in the air.

She glanced at Russell—only to be stunned.

His face remained calm. He was calmly observing the hanging entrails as if admiring noodles.

Forcing down her nausea, Natasha pulled out her equipment to start documenting and analyzing the scene. She said to Steve:

"Can't you tell these were Mutants?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has records of them."

She pointed to a man with a scar on his head and listed his name and powers.

As she entered the data, the cloud database pulled up all the victims' profiles.

They were all wild Mutants—unaffiliated with any known organization.

Steve covered his nose and said:

"Let's hand this over to the X-Men. S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have the time to babysit random Mutants."

Natasha shook her head.

"Not necessarily. The director's been working with a mysterious organization."

"This kind of sacrificial ritual might fall under their jurisdiction."

She paused mid-sentence, then turned to Russell thoughtfully.

A realization flickered in her mind.

After a moment, she asked carefully:

"Mr. Russell, what do you think?"

"Was this really a ritual sacrifice, or a staged cover-up after a massacre?"

Russell glanced at the symbol on the floor.

"It's definitely hellish in origin… but I don't smell sulfur. So I can't say for sure."

Natasha's pupils shrank.

She could accept many things in this world. But hearing the word hell casually come from someone like him still shook her.

Was hell… actually real?

As she processed this, she heard Russell say:

"But it doesn't matter. Someone will tell us soon enough."

Suddenly, Steve's battle instincts kicked in. The fatigue vanished from his body, replaced by sharp alertness.

Black Widow had already drawn her pistol and was ready to fire.

The two of them scanned the surroundings—but saw nothing but corpses.

Seconds passed.

Steve's tension eased, his shoulders slumping.

"Where's the enemy?"

"Quit being cryptic."

Natasha exhaled in relief.

But the very next second, Russell calmly pointed upward.

"Aren't they right there?"

"What kind of Mutant power is… growing intestines? Is he cosplaying a butcher?"

As he spoke, the intestines hanging from the ceiling began to writhe.

"What the—THE LARGE INTESTINE'S ALIVE!"

Steve shouted as he backpedaled.

"DON'T SHOOT! YOU MIGHT… uh… hit the—"

"Careful of… poop!"

(What a… unique perspective...) Russell thought. He stepped back a few paces in agreement.

Natasha, who had been about to open fire, also backed off instantly. She pulled out an electromagnetic grenade and tossed it into the air.

It didn't explode.

Instead, it pulsed with blue energy, pulling nearby intestines into its field before releasing a blast of electricity.

When the energy cleared—the intestines were still intact.

Natasha and Steve's expressions shifted.

Human intestines should NOT be this durable.

Then, a loud, bone-chilling laugh echoed through the cavern.

All the intestines retracted in an instant.

A man covered in black runes dropped from the ceiling, landing on the blood-soaked flesh pile.

A grotesque cross-shaped wound opened on his abdomen, revealing intestines lined with tiny wriggling tentacles—disgusting and alien.

He looked at the three with disappointment.

"What a letdown~"

"I expected the X-Men. Instead, I got… you clowns from S.H.I.E.L.D."

Steve raised his shield.

"Clown? I'm an Avenger!"

The man sneered.

"Even worse."

"Useless title. What are you avenging—lunch money?"

Steve scowled.

"You're with the Brotherhood, aren't you?"

"Does Magneto know what you're doing here?"

The man laughed disdainfully.

"Brotherhood? That pathetic group of weaklings thinks they control me?"

"I serve something far greater…"

BANG!

A gunshot rang out. Natasha had already fired.

The bullet hit—but the man didn't fall. He turned to her with a grin.

"A pistol? Really?"

"Times have changed, darling."

One of the tentacle-lined intestines surged forward like a whip.

Natasha stepped in front of Russell without hesitation.

Steve leapt forward, shield raised—

BANG!

Instead of the sound of impact, Captain America went flying.

Russell calmly grabbed Natasha's collar and pulled her aside.

Steve hit the cave wall and groaned in pain.

"You're welcome," Russell said, setting down the stunned Black Widow.

Steve got back up, now holding a shield in one hand and a hammer in the other.

"Go. I'll hold him off!"

"There's no point in all of us getting hurt."

Russell raised an eyebrow.

Where had that hammer even come from?

Was this guy secretly practicing combo attacks behind Thor's back?

Natasha gritted her teeth.

"Mr. Russell, let's go. The police above can support Steve!"

She wasn't willing to take the risk—if this mysterious powerhouse got hurt, it could be catastrophic.

BOOM!

Steve was sent flying again.

This time, as he tried to recover, intestines wrapped around his legs and smashed him repeatedly into the ground, Hulk-style.

His shield flew off.

It was brutal.

Just as Steve thought he might actually die, a voice echoed from afar—

"Captain, you're the most useless bodyguard I've ever had."

"When we get back to S.H.I.E.L.D., I'm filing a formal complaint."

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