In the Marvel Universe: I can summon items from all dimensions.

"So why do you have a towel wrapped around your head?"

After the car had been moving for a while, the man glanced at Mason and asked with considerable curiosity.

"...Apply cold compress."

Mason offered a flimsy excuse: "I had a minor head injury and needed some rest."

There was no other way; he simply couldn't find a suitable reason for this. He couldn't very well claim that he had discovered he had Middle Eastern ancestry and was doing so to emulate his ancestors, could he? So the destination of this car was probably not a S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra outpost, but a mental hospital.

Fortunately, the man didn't suspect anything and didn't ask any more questions. After moving forward for a while, he manipulated the car's communicator a few times and connected to a call, speaking into the other end.

"It's me, Elliott," he said curtly. "The mission is complete, went smoothly, I've confirmed it."

"Hmph, write a detailed report and submit it immediately after you get back."

A deep male voice came from the other end of the call, said something briefly, and then hung up.

A moment of silence.

"You heard me."

The man, whose name was probably Elliott, curled his lip: "The first thing to do when you get back is to write a report; you know the process."

Mason: "..."

If this were a movie, he might laugh and say, "So even villainous organizations have to worry about writing reports," but at this moment, he suddenly felt a little sweaty.

Are you serious? You want me to write a report?

Can...can I delay the deadline? At least until I've made up what the original owner of this body actually went through?

And even if I had the information, I wouldn't know Hydra's text format or submission channels, let alone how to write this.

...Or we could just kill this guy here and then try to contact Mama's Fuck to defect.

In an instant, Mason felt as if he had been pushed to the edge of a cliff by a mere report. Just as he was about to give in to his evil intentions, Elliott suddenly spoke up.

"Listen carefully, I know you'll feel uncomfortable the first time you kill someone, but that's how our job is."

He stared straight ahead at the road, clicked his tongue, and said, "Besides, that guy is just a traitor who tried to leak information to S.H.I.E.L.D. but was discovered by his superiors. There's nothing to care about."

Mason glanced at Elliott's profile.

He had the typical image of a tough white man, with features as hard as stone, but without much trace of malice. If he didn't know that this was a Hydra agent, he would probably think that this guy was quite reliable.

...Are you trying to comfort me? You're actually a pretty nice person.

Thinking of the knife he had just stuffed into his pocket, he withdrew his index finger, which he had raised halfway.

Don't panic. Taking rash action might make the situation worse. Let's sort out the situation first.

The conclusion that can be drawn from the brief conversation is not complicated—he is a rookie Hydra agent who has been ordered to eliminate a traitor who plans to leak secrets to S.H.I.E.L.D. It sounds absurd, and it really is absurd, especially when he thinks of his Hydra colleagues who, according to Elliott, have gambled their own lives.

Is this Hydra's corporate culture? It perfectly fits the stereotype of a villainous organization.

So the task at hand is obvious: find a way to switch jobs.

Whether it's S.H.I.E.L.D., S.A.M., the X-Men, Kamar-Taj, or even the Sinister Six, they simply can't stay in this damn Hydra anymore!

Before I time-traveled, I wrote reports every day. Now that I've time-traveled, the first thing I do is still write reports. Did I time-travel for nothing?

Although I don't seem to have gotten the kind of super cheat code that grants me the power to explode stars with a single breath, as the saying goes, snakes have their ways and rats have their ways. I do know a thing or two about the Marvel Universe, so wouldn't it be great to use this information advantage to find someone to rely on?

The only problem is that we need to confirm which universe this is. After all, there are so many parallel universes in Marvel that they are like a mountain of crap written by a programmer with dementia. If they are normal, it's fine. As long as you are willing to operate, you can become an intelligence agent like Mason and have a smooth ride. But if you travel to some zombie universe or cannibal universe... hahaha, let's change the subject.

Mason glanced at the time on the car's dashboard—good news, this thing could even display the year.

April 19, 2010, 3:42 PM.

If this were a cinematic universe, the Chitauri, led by Loki, would be attacking in about two years. However, given that Crossbones in "his" memories is a comic book character, it's difficult to determine exactly what's going on.

No, whatever you want to do takes time, and judging from the current situation, Hydra doesn't seem like it'll give me that time, so I have to find a way to make it happen.

After considering his words carefully, Mason said in a way that was unlikely to go wrong: "Of course I know that, but after all, I fought under the scythe of death..."

As he said this, he suddenly felt a jolt in his buttocks.

Then came the second and the third, with the amplitude increasing. Just a few seconds later, a sound similar to a meteorite hitting the ground reached Mason and Elliott's ears.

Boom, boom, boom.

They turned their heads to look behind them in perfect unison.

The next instant, the two of them opened their mouths wide in perfect unison.

In short, they saw a rhinoceros running wildly down a main street in New York City, followed by a line of armored vehicles with flashing red and blue police lights.

To be precise, he was a burly man who was nearly 2.5 meters tall, covered in rock-like gray horn armor, and had two rhinoceros horns on his forehead!

This guy was carrying two bulging bags in his arms, which looked like they were full of cash. He was like a battering ram, rampaging through the streets. He would smash through any trees or vehicles that blocked his way. Every step he took left spiderweb-like cracks in the ground, showing how strong he was.

Oh, and there's more bad news: their Ford was right in front of this monster, looking like it was about to be crushed like a soda can. And to make matters worse, it was a narrow road, so even if they wanted to swerve to avoid it, it was hard to say whether they would have enough time.

"A rhinoceros man? How could there be a rhinoceros man?!"

Elliott lost all composure in an instant and let out a screeching sound like a groundhog.

Coincidentally, Mason also knew this guy.

Rhino Man, as his name suggests, is a supervillain who wraps himself in high-strength polymer to give himself a rhinoceros-like appearance. He originated from the Amazing Spider-Man magazine in the 1960s and is quite a veteran. His character is a typical physical type, with extremely strong strength, speed and endurance, and his polymer skin is insanely tough.

Although most of the time he's just a second-rate character, a stepping stone, that's in comparison to superheroes like Spider-Man. To ordinary people, this monster that can smash a building down with one head is truly like a demon descended from heaven, a veritable god of war on earth.

Mason wasn't really puzzled as to why he'd encountered such a thing, after all, this was New York.

He sighed, not out of fear, but instead experiencing a kind of hallucination, feeling like Tom the cat about to be run over by a bull, and that nothing mattered anymore.

But that doesn’t mean he wants to die.

After estimating the car's speed and the rhino's trajectory, Mason made a judgment.

There's no escaping it now.

If he were to be thrown into the air along with the car, even Dr. Strange might not be able to save himself.

In an instant, the memories of this body stirred.

A wealth of knowledge about physical training was awakened and assembled into a feasible escape route at the last moment before danger struck.

Therefore, there is only one answer.

In an instant, he reached out and unlocked the car door, unbuckled his seatbelt, shouted "Jump out!", and then kicked the car door open, leaping out just as the Rhino brand dump truck was about to run him over.

The landing point was the concrete ground by the roadside. Mason got into a ready position and rolled around on the spot the moment his shoulder hit the ground.

His left leg and several ribs seemed to be broken, and even some pieces of skin had been rubbed off. The immense pain almost made him faint on the spot, but his strong will to survive gave him a huge rush of adrenaline, which made him get up immediately and hop on one foot into a small alley on the side of the street. Only then did he have time to lean against the wall and look back.

Through his somewhat blurry vision, he saw the Ford he had just been riding in being slapped by the Rhino and sent flying more than ten meters into the air, instantly turning into a pile of scrap metal. The Rhino, whose movements had slowed him down for a moment, burst into several huge sparks.

It was the police armored vehicles chasing after the rhino who opened fire.

"Alexei! Surrender! You can't escape!"

An angry voice came from the armored vehicle's loudspeaker, followed by a barrage of artillery fire, all of which accurately hit the Rhino Man. Although it may not have caused much damage, it did force him to retreat repeatedly.

At this moment, Mason was filled with astonishment.

Seriously, are the NYPD officers really that brave? Even the Gotham Police don't have this much equipment. You guys are even more awesome than the Gotham Police!

The utter chaos around him seemed to be loudly proclaiming a fact to him.

Welcome to New York!