Marvel Reverses Wolverine

"The curveball flies past the batter and the Dodgers tie it 4-4 again! Great weather today at Ebbets Field and just like that great pitch, the Phillies are stuck again, Peel Sen hit Leizer last month, and this time he hit Leizer to third base and scored!"

boom!

The Brooklyn Dodgers supporters in the stands stood up one after another, shouting for victory, applauding and cheering together. The most exciting game of the season at Ebbets Baseball Stadium was born.

Steve, his mother Sarah and his partner Bucky's family screamed with excitement. They are all Dodgers fans. In fact, there is no Brooklynite who is not a Dodger fan.

"I should have insisted on inviting the teacher to watch the game!"

Steve said loudly to his mother. He is now a young man of eighteen or nineteen years old. He is still not tall, but he looks lean, strong and full of energy.

"Steve, Mr. Howlett has a lot of important things going on and he doesn't have time to spend watching baseball games."

Ms. Sarah said slightly reproachfully that Sarah, who had worked at Howlett Advanced Scientific Research Institute for several years, was already a small supervisor in the Logistics Services Department. At the institute, she often had to entertain generals and dignitaries who came for talks and cooperation. It refreshed her understanding of Mr. Howlett many times.

After the game, they excitedly discussed the Dodgers' consecutive equalizers and the final winning goal. Steve suddenly stopped and looked at a recruitment poster posted outside the stadium with a complicated expression.

An old man with a white beard in the image of Uncle Sam, wearing a top hat with stars and stripes, pointed forward with one hand proudly, and in thick black font below it read: I WANT YOU!

Ms. Sarah's face suddenly turned cold, and she straightened her blond hair on her forehead. After living a good life for several years, she became beautiful again.

"Steve, let's go, this is not something you need to think about, America is still far away from this war."

Young Steve Rogers quickly came to his senses and smiled apologetically at his mother.

Yes, the European battlefield has almost fallen. The Second World War, which is much larger than the war more than ten years ago, still seems to be unable to burn the United States blessed by God. The American people continue to dance, watch football, and chase the times. dream.

On December 7, 1941, Japan launched a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, sinking four battleships and two destroyers, destroying 188 aircraft, killing more than 2,400 American soldiers, and injuring more than 1,000 others. The United States was shocked. startle.

Howlett Manor, Long Island, New York.

"No problem Mr. President, yes, the Howlett family has stood with the White House since the Civil War and is still doing so well today. We look forward to meeting you."

James put down the yellow-glazed phone of unknown texture, and the attendant picked up the phone and left the front room. He pondered for a moment, looked at Gatsby beside him, and gave serious instructions.

"The family's Oak Ridge plant in Tennessee will be immediately vacated to prepare for renovation and reconstruction. Large quantities of uranium ore will be transported to Oak Ridge from Canada and our mining areas in the Congo, and nuclear research experts and engineers from the Brooklyn Institute will be Sent to New York City.”

Gatsby asked carefully: "Master, what is this?"

"Roosevelt couldn't sit still, well, but he couldn't stand up either. The Pacific base was bombed, and he would soon have to give a speech to mobilize the United States. Originally, in order to benchmark Germany's nuclear research program, progress had to be accelerated on a large scale. This phone call There, he just had to move Lincoln out."

After hearing what James said, Jay Gatsby squinted his eyes, smiled, and said clearly.

"Yes, there is only a small amount of uranium ore suitable for use in the United States. Some good ores are in Canada and Czechoslovakia, but the best uranium resources are still in the Congo. Now that Czechoslovakia is controlled by Germany, the group has mineral resources in the other two places. Second to none, not to mention a high-quality factory base across the United States.”

"This plan is the first series of confidential research in the United States. Soon the Pentagon and the White House will come to connect with you. Please cooperate as much as possible. A military control zone will be established in New York City and initially named Manhattan. I will also come forward in the future."

James finally gave instructions. He had not seen many outsiders for some years and had to disguise himself every time, but for the Manhattan Project, Roosevelt hoped that he would definitely go to the White House.

After Pearl Harbor, the military base of the U.S. Pacific Fleet, was bombed by the Japanese, President Franklin Roosevelt issued the famous "National Humiliation" speech to the entire American people, fully mobilizing the United States to participate in the war. The United States was in a state of excitement, and war and national defense became the biggest topic among Americans.

A few days later, the manor was underground.

Steve moved in and out of positions flexibly, swinging his arms like a shield to constantly block the opponent's attacks. The opponent was a tall and burly brown-haired man, about thirty years old, with many offensive methods. Strongly wild, his hands are always in the shape of claws, and he can tear a crack if he touches his body.

Bang bang!

The brown-haired man stood up after his front paws were swung away, and bullied him again like a hawk. He opened Steve's shield with one leg and tore several holes in the training clothes on his chest. .

"That's it for today, Colin, there's progress."

A member of the "Wolf Pack" bowed and exited, leaving the underground training ground to James and Steve.

"I'm obviously worried about something lately, please tell me."

James knew his student very well. In the past month of sparring, Steve's split punches were either too aggressive or too hesitant, not as comfortable and appropriate as before.

"Teacher, I want to join the army."

Young Steve Rogers said solemnly to the teacher, and he seemed to have made up his mind.

James smiled, then asked seriously: "Where is your mother."

"She disagreed, very violently."

Steve shook his head. He did not complain about the opposition of his mother, Sarah Rogers. Steve's father enlisted in the 107th Regiment when his mother was still pregnant with him, participated in World War I, and died of mustard gas.

Of course he could understand that his mother didn't want her only son to go to war again, and besides, he didn't look like a good soldier.

"You have been practicing killing skills with me for the past few years. Your talent is excellent. You are only one step behind in the third stage. Although you look thin, with bare hands you can beat one by one until you fall down from exhaustion."

As he spoke, James smiled self-deprecatingly, and continued with a joking tone: "But you haven't even killed a chicken, and the battlefield is not a place that relies on fists and feet. Why do you say you want to join the army? Passionate?"

Steve's face turned a little red. When young people of eighteen or nineteen are at their most enthusiastic, heroism overflows in their hearts. He calmed down and looked directly into the teacher's eyes.

"You once said, never back down, but be worth it. What in this world is worth a person's fight without flinching? It's just family, lovers and friends, but all of them are based on the peace and stability of this country. Only you can have it, teacher, I want to contribute."

James stood up and pressed a button, and soon a member of the wolf pack came down and left quickly at James's command.

"I will give you a test, let's call it your graduation exam. If you complete it, I will allow you to join the army. I will deal with your mother."

Steve looked at the teacher's strange smile and felt a slight chill inside. Not only had he been practicing unarmed combat skills over the years, he had also experienced those hellish "tortures" while training the wolf pack members with James.

He had a faint glimpse of this teacher's secret, but it was like a small peak of an iceberg.

New York, West Midtown, located on the west shore of Manhattan Island, New York.

The most chaotic place with the highest crime rate in New York City is a famous slum, mainly inhabited by the working class of Irish immigrants. It is famous for its messy and backward living quality, serious ethnic conflicts and high crime rate.

The origin of the rumor is unknown, but people used to call it "Hell's Kitchen."

Steve Rogers was sitting in the car, looking at a document bag handed to him by the teacher with a stern expression.

"So such a person really doesn't bear any responsibility and gets away perfectly?" Steve said with some resentment but even more disbelief.

"Mental illness has been the best way for many criminals to escape guilt in recent years. Coupled with the operation of lawyers and the tactics they use on victims in private, it is not difficult to be acquitted. They only need to go to a mental hospital for treatment and report, not to mention ——”

James clinked his cigar on the crystal ashtray and continued: "Gibson Cullen has always been a maniacal and violent extreme. He is a madman."

Steve looked at several photos of mutilated women with trembling arms, biting his cheeks.

The driver slowly parked the newer-generation silver-grey limousine at the intersection, signaling that James had arrived.

"Colin will take you in, and then you need to go meet this thug Karen alone. As for what you want to do, I don't care."

James looked forward, not looking at his students.

Growth is not about taking the path that others have taken and the things that they have experienced and turning them into your own. It is not something that you realize and realize yourself, and others cannot take it from you.

Colin walked towards the entrance of an underground staircase and signaled that Steve was below. With some encouragement in his eyes, he gently said "be careful" and returned to the car.

Steve looked back at the car at the end of the road, clenched his fists and walked out.

Stink, fishy smell, and messy and harsh jazz sounds like a broken record player filled this small room.

It looked like an underground bar. There were not many people, but they were all red-faced and disheveled. Two women with heavy makeup were smoking cigarettes, and they looked at the uncomfortable little "boy" in amusement. .

On the innermost table, a bald and toothless white man yelled with a thick Irish accent, and several fat men with greasy hair and shining eyes were grabbing a lot of US dollars in front of the bald man.

"Gibson Cullen?"

Steve felt a little regretful when he called out his name. He hadn't figured out how to question this villain yet.

"Your mother is not here, and there is no one to feed you. Even if she is here, you still have to wait for me to drink enough!"

Several men with red faces and bulging eyes laughed wildly and looked at this young, short boy in a joking manner.

Steve yelled angrily: "If a bastard like you had a mother, then she would definitely regret not drowning you when you were born. Won't you encounter those women who were killed by your daughter in your dreams?"

The room suddenly fell silent, click, and the sound of a pistol being loaded sounded. Gibson Cullen skillfully took out a revolver from under the table and pointed it at this strange young man.

Steve was a little nervous. He had trained how to deal with firearms at various distances, but this was the first time he faced an opponent who might actually shoot at him.

"Hehe, I think his clothes are pretty good. They look like they belong to a rich man's family."

A fat man with a scar on his face next to Steve reached for his pocket. Today he was wearing a training jacket that his teacher prepared for him every day. Anyone with a sharp eye could see the exquisite materials and style.

Bang! boom!

Just as the man's hand was about to touch Steve, two fingers were pinched like lightning, his wrists were turned and twisted, and he stepped sideways and kicked. The scarred-faced man whose fingers and wrists were twisted off flew into the wine table next door. superior.

Gibson Cullen fired a shot in desperation but missed. The gunshot rang out. Steve, who was frightened and stood upright, stepped forward, his right hand seemed to be grasping but not grasping like an iron whip, and struck Cullen. head.

"Sir, gunfire."

Colin turned around from the passenger seat worriedly and looked at James, who was still sipping his cigar with a calm expression, as if he hadn't heard anything. After a moment, he seemed to react and said softly.

"If something happens to him, it's because my eyesight is too poor."

As soon as he finished speaking, Steve Rogers walked up absentmindedly with his hair disheveled. His clothes were splattered with red and white, and there was blood on his face, but he was completely unscathed.

He was a little lost but decent enough to approach the car and opened the door. James looked ugly and sniffed.

"Stop, throw away your clothes and come in again, it stinks like hell."

Steve was stunned for a moment, and quickly took off his strangely dyed jacket and threw it on the side of the road. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face, then discarded the handkerchief before sitting in.

Colin watched from the front row as Steve took out a handkerchief, holding back a smile and trembling slightly.

James didn't ask anything, just told the driver to drive to Hull's Kitchen in Brooklyn. Steve beside him hesitated several times.

"Say it, don't be stubborn." James stubbed out the last bit of cigar in the palm of his hand, and the end of the cigar seemed to be wiped out without touching his skin.

"Don't ask me what I did." Steve actually said with a somewhat resentful tone.

"My purpose is just to let you experience what it would be like to actually face a villain, or to have someone intentionally kill you. I don't care about the outcome or what you did. You want to go to the battlefield, and life and death are on the battlefield. The most ordinary thing."

James' words were still natural, and he really didn't care how Steve dealt with it. Even if he saw the gun and was so frightened that his legs went weak and he kowtowed a few times and ran out, it was still considered that he recognized his true identity.

"I was too anxious. I punched with all my strength. I even practiced the second stage of killing with enough force. Karen's head was smashed."

After saying that, Steve grinned sheepishly, a bit like the shy look he had when he was a child, but James gave him a strange look. His killing skills were killing skills, and he really felt the "fun" in killing people.

James and Steve were waiting in the house for Ms. Sarah to come home from get off work. Steve took the initiative to prepare food. After dinner, James and Sarah talked alone for a while.

After a while, Steve was called in. He looked at his mother's red eyes and complained to himself uncomfortably.

Sarah hugged her son tightly and said nothing more.

More than ten days later.

".Mike O'Connor, Henry Kaminsky, Steve Rogers."

The examiner at the recruitment office called the young applicants waiting for the physical examination one by one. Steve was beating the drum in his heart. His mother and teacher agreed to his request to join the army. However, his enthusiasm was ruined by the recruitment office. He did not expect that he would be blocked from joining the army in the end. Not relatives and friends, but the army itself

"Steve Rogers. Good guy!"

The examiner of the physical examination report looked at the long list of congenital diseases such as scarlet fever, rheumatic fever, allergic inflammation, etc., and then looked at the young man's naked upper body. Although he was short, his muscles were unusually well-proportioned and strong.

"Young man, it looks like you do a lot of push-ups? But this is not okay, 4F."

boom!

The reviewer stamped the worst 4F mark on the file without waiting for Steve to say anything. In fact, after Steve learned boxing from James over the years, especially when he reached the peak of the first and second stages of the killing technique, many The problems that I once had, such as asthma, high blood pressure, and irregular heartbeat, have long since disappeared.

But even so, he still did not meet the physical examination standards for recruitment. This was the third time that he changed his place and place of origin to participate in recruitment activities.

"Sir! Listen to me, although I look short and have these little flaws, I am strong enough. I can easily defeat anyone here."

As soon as Steve finished speaking, there was silence in the inspection room for a few seconds, and then everyone burst into laughter. The young men who applied were generally around 180 centimeters tall, and all of them were shirtless. Not only did they not feel embarrassed. They were not offended, but they talked about this interesting little man with each other with great interest.

The auditor also laughed happily a few times, waved his hand, and asked him to go back indifferently.

"Watch."

Bang!

Steve punched the wooden tabletop in front of the auditor, and he quickly pulled out his arm, but no injuries were visible.

"Oh Fuck!"

Before Steve could feel proud and was about to say a few words about his ability, he heard the officer in front of him yell.

"Guard, guard! Throw this brat who is playing tricks on me as far away as possible!"

The two soldiers who were responsible for maintaining order quickly walked to Steve's side, picked up the troublemaker one on the left and the other on the right, and carried him out of the room.

Steve knew that it was impossible for him to fight with the guards. This was not the time to show off his skills. He could only shout that it was a misunderstanding. He was thrown out of the recruitment office shirtless, and then received the same thrown Clothes that came out.

March 1942, the town of Tonsberg, Norway.

Tonsberg is a town in southeastern Norway. It is located on the top of Tonsberg Bay. It is one of the oldest towns in Norway. It has very traditional industries such as shipbuilding, papermaking, leather processing, and beer. It is also famous for its silverware.

There are a large number of ancient royal tombs on the outskirts of the town, which once flourished during the Viking Viking period.

But for thousands of years, the peaceful town was like a pool of stagnant water. At this moment, armored chariots, tanks and German boots broke the peace for more than a thousand years.

"They're here for it!"

A man with dirty blond hair and a typical Nordic beard ran into a quaint stone castle. This stone castle looked like some kind of church, but in the middle was a huge sarcophagus, made of old and mottled iron. Candlelights were scattered scatteredly hanging on the dome, and rusted armor with almost no silver light visible was piled around.

The old man walked out of a stone house slowly but powerfully. His face was flat, his hair was rough and messy, hanging on his shoulders, his nose seemed to be broken and a little twisted, and the wrinkles on his face were crowded around his eyes.

"Let them come. I don't know how many people have tried to look for it over the years. If they can't find it, let them come!"

The old man's voice was like the sea breeze on the worst days, which made people feel a little scared.

boom!

The stone castle was shaking violently, and both of them were shaking a little.

Boom boom! A stone wall was broken open by a tank equipped with a battering ram, and the collapsed Leilei boulder immediately killed the man who came to report the news.

Wearing shiny leather boots, John Schmidt got off the military vehicle marked with skulls and tentacles and stepped on the stone road of this ancient town.

Hydra's soldiers rushed into the stone castle well-trained and searched everywhere. Several soldiers came to the sarcophagus and pushed the lid hard, but the huge and thick sarcophagus did not move at all. It seemed that for thousands of years, this sarcophagus had already Connected into one.

"It's really not easy to find here. You guys are very nice, and you and I have similarities."

Schmidt walked in casually and chatted casually as if meeting an old friend. The old man stared coldly at the German leader who was wearing a black military uniform and a leather windbreaker.

This man seemed to be surrounded by evil spirits, full of evil spirits. His face was unnaturally stiff, and his skin had a weird texture. His eyes were protruding, his hairline was a little high, his bones were clear, and every emotion was there. There was unreserved release on his face.

"Of course, this similarity is nothing but a story that the mediocre people in the world regard as myths and nursery rhymes, but you and I believe it deeply and even regard it as truth."

The old man's voice trembled, and he continued to hoarse with his voice like the sea breeze: "What you are looking for is just a legend, and it is destined to come to nothing."

Smith grinned and walked towards the sarcophagus. The lid of the coffin, which could not be pushed by three or four strong soldiers, was pushed aside with a hiss of dust under one of Smith's hands.

It was a corpse that had long since decayed. Even the armor and cloak worn on it had long been rusted and rotten. The cross sword placed on the body had lost its sharpness and was so fragile that it seemed to shatter at a touch.

The skeletal hands were placed on the chest, but there was a hollow space in the middle of the hands, as if they were holding something.

Schmidt glanced at the old man. The old man's eyes were so wide open that they seemed to jump out of his head. The folds on his face were stretched out a lot. He was even more surprised than Schmidt.

"It seems you are not as secretive as you thought."

Schmidt considered it, but suddenly smiled strangely: "But it is too obvious to put it here. It is obvious that someone has taken away the things, but you have never known it."

He waved his hand, and tank fire blasted into the houses of the residents of the town. The shrill screams reached the old man's ears. With his mouth open, he watched the people fleeing for their lives outside the stone fort being shot and massacred by the invaders.

"Hurry up and tell me how many of them can survive." Schmidt leaned close to the old man and whispered softly.

All that was left in the old man's throat was the constant breathing in and out. He said nothing, just staring straight at the huge wooden relief wall.

"Yectrasil, the World Tree."

Smith followed the old man's gaze and slowly approached, praising the World Tree statue on the huge relief in a ritualistic tone, which was exquisite and simple, like the return of a myth.

It is the sacred tree in Nordic mythology that runs through the nine realms and constitutes the world.