Chapter Thirty-Three: The Lich King Begins to Watch the Drama Unfold

The initial formula for the Super Soldier Serum was designed to enhance both the body and mind, created by the U.S. military during World War II to forge the world’s most advanced soldiers and, in doing so, gave rise to the legendary Captain America.

Unfortunately, after Captain America was created, the formula was lost, which is one of the reasons the military remains so obsessed with the Super Soldier Program. The military tried to restart the project, aiming to produce a new generation of super soldiers. Though Ross researched the serum based on some surviving records, all his current results are nothing more than defective imitations.

After Blonsky took the serum, the test results indicated that Roald’s technology might be not just real but highly refined, rekindling hope for the military’s Super Soldier Program.

At the same time, Ross had witnessed Grommash’s strength firsthand.

—Nineteen enhancements, and he could easily overpower Blonsky, whose limit was five tons, with just one hand.

This gave Ross even greater confidence in the upcoming operation to “contain” the Hulk.

“General, the tests are complete. I believe the containment mission can begin,” Grommash relayed according to Roald’s orders.

“Of course!”

The exchange between Roald and Grommash took place through telepathy. Roald was constantly experimenting with the effects and duration of cards such as [Infection] and [Embrace the Darkness], as well as the distinctions among the various cards.

As a man working behind the scenes, mastering control skills was essential.

With the emergence of other HYDRA branches, the secret assistance from Pierce, ongoing investigations into Stark Industries, and the resistance from the CIA, FBI, the military, and other bodies, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s investigation was progressing with great difficulty.

Destiny’s old horse was galloping down the familiar road: Tony had fulfilled his destiny to become Iron Man, but closing the weapons division triggered a chain reaction. Stark Industries, once thriving and growing, became the unwanted stepchild among investors, and recently its stock had been plunging like a waterfall.

Almost overnight, the company’s vast stock structure resulted in shareholder unrest, and companies like Osborn, Shinra, and others took the opportunity to purchase large quantities of Stark stock.

A portion of the shares changed hands smoothly.

Relying on a nonexistent organization or the gimmick of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, along with the effects of his cards, Roald had achieved his initial goals, even if the methods were imperfect. After Vikan helped Tony resolve the issue with Obadiah, Roald’s infiltration mission was complete.

Bruce Banner had fled to Brazil, searching for ways to control his transformation and hoping to become a normal man again. But after all his efforts abroad, he returned to America.

It was Samuel Sterns, who had been secretly in contact with him and had analyzed his blood samples, that prompted Bruce’s risky return to New York under the promise of a cure.

Meanwhile, at the center of this brewing storm, Roald wandered the city streets like any ordinary New Yorker. As military helicopters swept the sky above with their searchlights, a look of satisfaction played across his face.

Bruce Banner, having just sneaked back to New York, emerged from a hot dog stand. Before he could bring the hot dog to his lips, the helicopter’s massive spotlight found him, bathing him in harsh illumination.

He realized the surrounding streets had been cordoned off. Under the glare, the sidewalks were filled with uniformed figures. The passersby he’d seen earlier were all military personnel, armed with standard-issue weapons, flanked on either side by two sonic cannons.

The intense light made Bruce Banner squint.

During his time in Brazil, he had longed for the taste of America. Whatever the military’s reasons for being here, all he wanted was to eat his hot dog as quickly as possible.

Otherwise, holding a hot dog during a fight would look ridiculous.

“…Bruce Banner, you are surrounded. Surrender immediately!”

The sudden voice from the loudspeaker startled him.

The hot dog slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

Bruce Banner looked up.

Green began to spread across his body. His once frail frame ballooned in size, and within seconds he had become a towering green monster, more than two meters tall, wearing nothing intact but a pair of shorts.

His roar soon echoed in the dark.

“Hulk—!”

From a distance came the sounds of explosions, screams, a furious bellow, and private vehicles sent flying—a costly night for New York’s auto insurance companies.

Roald offered a silent prayer for their solvency, hoping they wouldn’t be bankrupted by the destruction.

Bruce Banner was furious, and not just because of the fallen hot dog.

He glared up at Ross, the man with the loudspeaker. “We’ve had our share of conflicts, and I should hate you forever, but for my part, I wish we could have peace between us from now on. But…”

“What did the hot dog ever do wrong?”

“I’ve been under your surveillance for years, driven from my home, lost my greatest love, and now you’ve even scared away my last taste of home. I just wanted one bite of a hot dog. If you dare rob me of even that…?”

“You’re all courting death!”

Bruce Banner was seething!

He was enraged.

The flames of anger blazed in his heart; funeral bells tolled in his mind. Fueled by his fury, Bruce Banner grew even larger, his presence more savage and formidable.

Terrifying.

From his seat in the helicopter, Grommash watched Bruce Banner’s transformation below, saw him tearing up water pipes and lampposts, flinging them about and wantonly destroying public property. That body, all solid muscle and explosive power, had reduced all his clothing to rags—except for his shorts, which remained inexplicably intact.

Grommash found this extremely interesting.

“General, don’t you find his shorts more intriguing?” he asked.

“???”

General Ross turned to him, curiosity evident in his eyes.

Is this a joke?

A fight’s about to break out and you’re worried about his shorts?

Are you planning to attack by pulling his pants down?

“I just wonder how those shorts always fit, no matter how he transforms. General, I’m considering what makes their material different from our active armor technology.”

This unanticipated line of thought made Ross’s eyes flicker.

He hadn’t noticed before, but now it was clear—the adaptable shorts were quite practical.

If they could develop equipment like that…

No, this wasn’t the time for such thoughts. Ross turned to the ready Blonsky. “Ready?”

Blonsky glanced at the rampaging Hulk in the street and nodded.

Amid the spray of water, Hulk surveyed his surroundings, eyeing the two sonic cannons menacingly. He charged straight at them.

The solid asphalt thundered under his steps, obstacles along the way were sent flying by his immense strength, and with a furious roar, he leaped high, fists raised to strike down.

Ross patted Blonsky’s shoulder warmly.

“You’re up, Major!”