Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1007, Section 1003: Helmut Zemo (First Update)

Steve Rogers was acutely aware of the labels he carried: a brave soldier, a great hero, a paragon of the American spirit, and perhaps other miscellaneous things like a youth mentor and the incarnation of Jesus in the eyes of Protestants. But he knew these labels were merely illusions created to deceive the world. In the eyes of the ordinary people in the Middle East and Eastern Europe saved by the Immortal City, the name Captain America never represented peace and justice, but rather war and oppression. So when Salomon asked him to betray America, even though another matter (Bucky Barnes) still troubled him, Steve Rogers nodded in agreement to Salomon's request.

He will take on a shield that belongs only to him, take off his blue uniform, and join the great cause of the Immortal City.

Salomon seemed to have anticipated this day. He reached out, gesturing for Hammurabi to retrieve a gift he had prepared long ago from the armory. Steve Rogers watched as the deep black velvet blanket was lifted, revealing the gift—a deep red round shield with a golden eagle in the center, surrounded by a laurel wreath and lightning bolts, exuding the style of the Immortal City. Compared to the shield Steve Rogers currently used, this shield employed the same technology as the Royal Guard's Stormshield, with a miniature energy field generator housed within. Furthermore, to accommodate Steve Rogers' habit of throwing the shield, the user wore a signal transmitter on their wrist, guiding the thrown shield back like a boomerang under the influence of a gyroscope.

"This is yours, Steve." Salomon's address sounded more intimate than in previous years. He extended his hand to shake Steve Rogers's. "Let's fight for justice. I believe you won't betray your beliefs. From now on, you're no longer Captain America. Have you decided what nickname you'll have?"

"Steve Rogers is fine. Captain America is just a label used for promotion."

Hammurabi personally escorted Steve Rogers to the assault transport. The black-painted assault transport, scarred and riddled with craters, was Soleil property, indicating that the former Captain America was in Eastern Europe when summoned, and possibly had only recently returned from combat. Salomon gave Steve Rogers a private moment with the Imperial Guard, and told Hammurabi that if Rogers asked how the Imperial Guard was created, he could tell him everything except the technical details.

"My lord, why do you value this mortal so much?" Superuliumas removed his helmet, asking with a puzzled expression. "I could take down a hundred of him. Steve Rogers is far too weak."

"He possesses a humanistic spirit that we lack, Superuliumas. If even Captain America betrayed America, wouldn't those who firmly believe America is the messenger of justice secretly question whether everything they've upheld in the past was right? Of course, I don't expect Steve Rogers alone to bring much reflection; he'll betray America sooner or later, but this reason is far better than betraying the country for personal reasons, isn't it?" Superuliumas wanted to say he didn't understand what the monarch was saying, but Salomon didn't give him time to retort. "Tell the pilot to hurry up. I think our next guest is already impatient."

The vibrations from the aircraft engines made his teeth chatter. His messy, wet brown curly hair smelled of soap, and the dim lighting in the cabin resembled an interrogation cell. Two women in black power armor sat to one side, holding large-caliber firearms, their blood-red visors fixed on the man handcuffed to the ground. He licked the tip of his front teeth, took a deep breath, and tried to pull his mind away from his tension. The aircraft and the power armor indicated that this organization possessed extremely advanced technology, but this was not the real reason for his anxiety.

He was nervous because of the person he was about to meet.

He had been investigating the chaos in Latvia and eastern Ukraine for a long time, and with his excellent investigative skills, he finally uncovered a military base in the Donbas region. In that makeshift camp, there was a flag with a golden eagle. He heard rumors from the locals about an army clad in full black power armor, but before he could take any further action, the women in black power armor burst into the safe house and arrested him.

He surrendered without resistance, and during interrogation, he revealed all his plans without reservation, requesting a meeting with the organization's leader. This request was naturally ignored, and the agents who took him over subjected him to extremely harsh interrogations: waterboarding, sleep deprivation, humiliation, and hypnotic drugs. During the constant transfers, he completely lost his sense of location and time, yet he never forgot his purpose.

Revenge—revenge for his wife and children—was the rage that sustained his spirit, allowing him to stubbornly survive in the prison below the deck of the ocean liner on the high seas, enduring hundreds of agonizing interrogations. Whatever the interrogators wanted to know, he would always tell the experts he wanted to see the leader of this organization. Until one day, amidst the clanging of anchor chains, he heard someone calling his name. The repeated torture had dulled his mind; it took him a long time to realize it was his own name. Then, several agents who had interrogated him before brought him out. They gave him a bath, shaved his beard, changed him into clean clothes, and gave him a good meal. With sufficient blood sugar, his sluggish brain began to work at lightning speed again. He believed his proposal had succeeded; he had a chance to persuade the leader of this organization to help him with his revenge. Especially when he boarded that aircraft, although he didn't yet know their purpose, he knew the person hidden in the mist wanted to see him.

He looked up at the hazy sky above the sea and burst into hearty laughter. Although his arrest had disrupted his plans, he believed he had grasped the key to victory—an unparalleled power.

"Your wife and children." Salomon carefully examined the haggard-looking man before him, his opinion of the man rising even higher in his mind. Most of the interrogation experts were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents from the CIA; after the Hydra rebellion, they were forgotten on the high seas, unable to reach shore. The Immortal City took over those prison ships and all the personnel on board. From then on, those cruise ships became the Immortal City's mobile prisons, and the guards gained more authority and methods. Not everyone could withstand those interrogation tortures, but this man not only endured them but also bravely crawled to his side.

“Yes, I want to ask you for help with my revenge. I believe our interests align; we both want to destroy the Avengers and America.” Helmut Zemo nodded. While Salomon was assessing him, he was also assessing Salomon. However, no matter how hard he concentrated, he found he couldn't retain any impression of the man in his mind. He suspected it was a side effect of the interrogation, so he turned to look at the two golden giants standing beside Salomon, mentally assessing whether they were robots or genetically modified warriors, and whether they posed a threat to Tony Stark.

"Actually, I'm curious why you want to see me," he said. "You could have sent your own men to negotiate with me."

"Yes, the reason I want to do this is because you are very useful. I will grant your request, but only if you follow my plan."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)