## Chapter 294: Bucky's Death, Choosing a Scapegoat
Due to the increasing crime rate in Detroit year after year, in order to ensure the safety of citizens, the Federal Authorities isolated the city's most dangerous criminals, placing them in the infamous crime-ridden forbidden zone: the Red Brick Special Zone! Several communities within the city were cordoned off, their inhabitants designated as criminals. Aside from daily water and electricity supply, the State Government used this area as a Prison.
This happened in a Federation that had always advocated Freedom and Democracy, which felt somewhat unbelievable. However, this was Reality. The Freedom and Democracy emphasized by the Federation was more like a weapon of class structure than a genuine principle.
The establishment of such a crime special zone was a resolution of the Alabama State Government. According to the Federal Constitution, even the Federal Government, and the newly appointed Black President, had no right to interfere.
This kind of crime special zone, controlled by Gangs, could be said to be a Paradise for criminals. Some Normal People living in such a place constantly dreamed of escaping and moving out.
However, to move out of the Community, besides needing the agreement of the Gangs within the Community, they also needed to obtain "Amnesty" from the Detroit Police Department. Otherwise, even if they did move out to another Community, they would become a key surveillance target for the Police Station.
Therefore, many people in the Red Brick Community chose to become informants for the Detroit Police Department, helping them monitor the movements within the Community.
However, these people often met a bad end.
In the early hours of the morning, in the Red Brick Special Zone, a figure suddenly appeared on the high wall built by the State Government. He flexibly gripped the protrusions on the wall surface, climbing down through the gaps in the stone bricks, as agile as a monkey.
In just a few breaths, he had climbed down four or five meters of the high wall.
Below the high wall, the sky was dark and hazy, with not a single shadow of a person. The man wearing a hooded sweatshirt pulled the hood over his head and slipped into a Small Alley. After about three or four minutes, he reappeared on the Road, astride a dilapidated Motorcycle.
"Buzz buzz buzz buzz—"
When a Gang Guard on the high wall rubbed his eyes and looked towards the Road, he only saw the shadow of the Motorcycle's taillights. He cursed under his breath, rubbed his eyes, and lay back down on his makeshift single bed, hugging his AK47, and continued to sleep soundly.
The hooded man rode the Motorcycle for about an hour, turning onto a fork in the Road. After another half an hour, he finally found a run-down Motel by following the light of a faded and rusty neon Sign.
The Boss of the Motel was a bloated middle-aged Fatty, sitting on the Boss's Chair behind the glass Counter. His eyes were narrowed into slits, looking at a spicy magazine placed on the Counter, his hand under the Counter, fiddling with something unknown.
Hearing the wind chime at the Entrance, the Boss looked up at the hooded man walking in and said in a listless tone, "Ten US Dollars for a Room."
The hooded man silently took out a ten-dollar bill from his Wallet and slapped it on the table.
The Boss reached out his thick, fat arm from the small window of the glass Counter, took the bill, turned his Seat, took a string of Keys from the Shelf, and handed them to the hooded man.
"The Room is the third one on the left on the second floor."
The Motel Boss yawned and said, "If you need to relieve your physiological needs, there's a phone book in the bedside cabinet with numbers for girls. I also advise you to take good protective measures."
The hooded man took the string of Keys stained with an unknown white liquid, and silently walked towards the second floor. He went up the steps in a few strides and found the Room according to the door number.
The bedding smelled of decay, the Carpet was burned with cigarette holes, the outside window Glass was yellowed, and the fan was sometimes working and sometimes not, truly exuding an aura of decay and dilapidation, no different from the appearance of this Urban Area Motel.
The hooded man went to the mirror in the Bathroom, took off his hood, revealing a face and neck covered in letter tattoos.
Click click!
He took out a handgun from his back waist, chambered a round, held the gun, and sat silently on the Motel's somewhat yellowed bedding, waiting.
Time passed bit by bit. The old Clock on the Motel wall ticked for about half an hour, then a rhythmic knocking sound came from outside the Door.
The man quickly got up, holding the handgun with both hands, and stood sideways, aiming at the not-so-thick wooden Door of the Motel.
Years of Community living experience told him that in this situation, he must not stand at the Entrance, otherwise, a spray of fire from outside would easily turn him into a sieve.
"Lino, it's me, Damian!"
Just as the man raised his gun and was aiming, a deliberately lowered voice sounded from outside the Door.
The man sighed in relief, held the gun in his right hand, moved closer to the Door, and carefully opened the bolt with his left hand, pulling open a Door crack.
After confirming that the person at the Entrance was someone he knew, he fully opened the Door. However, the next moment, he immediately raised his gun and pointed it at the person named Damian.
"Who is he? Didn't we agree that you would come alone this time? You betrayed me!"
Lino pointed his gun at Damian and the long-haired man behind him.
"Calm down, Lino, he's our ally. The five hundred thousand US Dollars I promised you, he's the one who paid it! He's the Employer!" Damian spread his hands and explained to Lino.
Lino frowned: "He's the Employer? Didn't you say this money was from the Detroit Police Department?"
Damian gave a wry smile: "Hey, Lino, you should know the situation inside the Police Station. Those old masters won't bother dealing with the Red Brick Community matters!"
Lino knew that Damian was right. If the Detroit Police Department had actually done something, the Red Brick Special Zone wouldn't exist.
He sized up the man behind Damian. Black long hair, wearing a long-sleeved casual denim jacket, and a baseball cap on his head, with the hat brim pulled very low, clearly not wanting to be recognized.
"Come in!" Lino tilted his head, gesturing for the two to follow him into the Room.
In the old Motel Room, there was only one Chair. Lino tucked his handgun into his rear, motioned for Damian to sit on the bed with him, and gave the Chair to the Employer.
"Damian said that the drug lords in the Red Brick Special Zone have recently switched to the counterfeit money business. Do you have any leads?"
After the man wearing the baseball cap sat down, he first raised his arm and operated something on a wrist device a few times, then looked up at Lino.
Lino stared at the man's metal-colored prosthetic hand, quietly noting this characteristic.
"Does the five hundred thousand you promised me still count?" Lino didn't answer the man's question, but instead asked back.
The man looked at Lino. Lino could clearly feel the scrutinizing gaze from under the hat brim.
The gaze that seemed to see through the human heart made Lino tremble inside. He forced himself to stay strong and swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
Just as he felt he couldn't hold on, the man took out a check from his jacket pocket, held it between his fingertips, and showed it to Lino: "As long as you can satisfy me, this five hundred thousand is yours!"
Lino's eyes kept following the check. He quickly said, "Tremaine is indeed getting involved in the counterfeit money business recently. About a year ago, in the Red Brick Special Zone, people would come to trade with cash every once in a while.
At first, I thought Tremaine was still selling drugs, but later, I overheard a piece of information from one of his Leaders. He opened a Counterfeiting Factory in the Community, specifically manufacturing counterfeit money, all in large denominations, and the quality is very high, capable of fooling C-class Printing Presses!"
Saying this, Lino took out a brand new bill from his pocket and handed the hundred-dollar bill with Franklin's portrait printed on it to the man.
The man took the bill with his hand and rubbed it between his fingers a couple of times, finding that he couldn't distinguish the authenticity of the bill based on feel alone.
He silently tucked the bill into his pocket and looked up to continue questioning Lino:
"You mean there's a Counterfeiting Factory in the Community? Do you know the specific location?"
"It's in the Building where Tremaine lives, but the Security there is very strict, with at least seventy or eighty Gunmen. If you're thinking of targeting that Counterfeiting Factory, you should give up early. Most of the people in the entire Red Brick Community are his. Even if the Detroit Police Department sends out all their manpower, they can't do anything about them!"
Lino saw through the man's plan and shook his head, trying to dissuade him.
The man directly took out a black pen, signed the amount on the check, and handed it to Lino: "This is a check for one hundred thousand US Dollars. I need a Map of the Community, including the address of the Counterfeiting Factory and the distribution of Security inside. If you can get it, I will pay you another four hundred thousand US Dollars later!"
"I think you guys are really crazy. Let me say this first, I'm only responsible for providing the Map, I won't get involved in anything else. I also have one condition. I'll give you the Map, and you give me a certification from the Police Station. I want to leave the Red Brick Special Zone before you take action. I don't want to be treated as a traitor by Tremaine's people!"
Lino took the check, carefully checking it while stating his conditions.
The man quickly agreed to his conditions. The two agreed that three days later, at the same Motel, it would be a hand-to-hand deal.
"Tony, the US version of the Counterfeit currency factory is confirmed to be in the Red Brick Special Zone in Detroit. The Euro version of the Counterfeit currency factory is in the 13th Arrondissement of Paris, France. Both locations have been basically locked down. What's the next step? Notify S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
The black Ford Sedan drove through the pitch-black night. Bucky opened the vehicle communication system.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. is full of Tang's people. This matter cannot alarm S.H.I.E.L.D.. If this counterfeit money business is really related to him, he will definitely destroy evidence one step ahead after getting the information!"
"Leave France to me. You handle the Counterfeiting Factory in Detroit. I will find you a reliable group of people. Remember, the most important thing is to get evidence of Tang Song's involvement in the counterfeit money business!"
"Detroit is just some Gang Gunmen. I can handle this myself!"
Listening to Bucky's words, there was no sound from the other end of the communication channel, but Bucky could hear faint breathing sounds from there.
"Tony, I'm sorry about Howard. I didn't know that to you—"
Just as Bucky started speaking, a rough voice from the other end of the phone rudely interrupted him: "Then the Detroit matter is up to you—"
Listening to the dial tone from the other end of the phone, Bucky sighed. He raised his metal arm. During the time he was the Winter Soldier, he didn't know how much blood he had stained it with.
Now, the only motivation supporting him to live was to avenge Steve.
After finding the Killer who murdered Steve, he would atone for the mistakes he had committed.
On the Highway outside the car, a morning mist had risen at some point. Bucky turned on the car's fog lights and suddenly found over a dozen shadows standing in the mist on the Highway ahead.
Bucky warily took out an M4A1 Carbine from the front passenger seat, aimed at the shadows in the thick mist through the front windshield. "Wah! Dong!"
Accompanied by a strange cry, Bucky suddenly felt the car roof sink. Something seemed to have landed on his car roof.
Bucky held the steering wheel with one hand and raised his gun towards the car roof and fired, "Da da da da—"
He instantly emptied half a magazine from the Carbine. Blood kept seeping out through the Hole in the car's roof. Just as Bucky thought he had dealt with the thing on the car roof.
A blood-red figure resembling a skinned monster suddenly hung upside down and reached out from the front windshield. It opened its large mouth full of sharp teeth and roared at Bucky. Its scarlet eyeballs, full of blood threads, stared intently at Bucky through the front windshield.
If an Ordinary Person saw this scene, they would at least be scared out of their wits, if not completely at a loss.
However, as a former top Hitman for Hydra and an Enhanced Soldier, Bucky had seen all kinds of scenes.
Facing this skinned monster, he immediately raised his gun and fired, the muzzle steadily aimed at the monster's head.
Da da da da da da—
Another half a clip of bullets was fired. The front windshield directly shattered into countless pieces, and the monster he had shot in the head convulsed.
As Bucky sharply turned the steering wheel, the Sedan did a drift on the spot. The corpse of this skinned monster was directly thrown over ten meters away, landing in the muddy ground beside the Highway.
Looking back at the "shadows" becoming clearer and clearer in the thick mist! Bucky stepped on the accelerator to the floor, adding horsepower, and fled back the way he came.
But soon, another group of figures appeared on the Highway ahead. He looked at the group of Werewolves wearing fang necklaces and holding various weapons.
Click click! Bucky directly released the steering wheel and reloaded the rifle's magazine.
Propping the rifle on the front window, which was missing its windshield, Bucky faced these dozen or so Werewolves, stepped on the accelerator, and while spraying fire, crashed into them.
Facing the bullets Bucky fired, these Werewolves didn't move. One Werewolf knelt on one knee, took out an army green Rocket Launcher from behind him, aimed it at Bucky's Sedan, and directly pulled the trigger.
The Rocket, carrying firelight, directly hit Bucky's Sedan.
Boom! The firelight of the explosion soared into the sky. Bucky, who jumped out of the car at the last moment, used the cover of the thick mist to run down towards the Highway.
"Hiss hiss!"
Over a dozen Werewolf Warriors, holding great axes, followed closely. Relying on the Werewolves' keen sense of smell, they quickly cornered Bucky.
"Are you people from the Tang Group?"
Bucky, surrounded, clenched the fist of his metal prosthetic, adopting a combat stance. At the same time, he quietly turned on the recording function of his wrist device.
The dozen or so Werewolf Warriors just looked at him silently. In the thick mist, over a dozen pairs of beast eyes seemed to be emitting a green radiance.
Bucky turned around and drew something from his waist behind him. A palm-sized metal disk appeared in his hand, which he threw towards these Orcs.
The disk flashed red light in the air. With a few beep beep beep alarms, an Explosion fireball about four or five meters wide suddenly exploded.
After throwing the Explosive Disc, Bucky didn't even look at the result of the Explosion. He immediately turned and ran away, simultaneously taking out a spray from his chest and continuously spraying it on his body, trying to cover his scent.
Whoosh! A great axe suddenly flew out of the thick mist, chopping towards the back of Bucky's head. If Bucky hadn't felt the wind behind his head and lunged forward, this axe would have directly cut off half of his skull.
In the thick mist, a furry Werewolf, at least two and a half meters tall, walked out.
Catching the Battle Axe that had returned, the Werewolf opened its large mouth, revealing four large fangs, and stared intently at Bucky.
Behind him stood over a dozen tall Werewolves. Looking at the fang necklaces hanging around their necks, if someone from the Underworld were here, they would be able to distinguish based on the number of fangs they wore that they were the most Elite Warriors of the Orc Race! Although Bucky was not from the Underworld, he was a Seasoned Assassin. He could feel that any one of this group of people in front of him could kill him.
Although Bucky was trembling all over, he was not someone who would easily admit defeat. He clenched his metal fist, and directly lunged at the leading Orc.
The leading Orc's muscles were like steel, and a hint of sarcasm flashed in its eyes as it faced the charging Bucky. It swung the great axe directly towards Bucky.
Vatican
Originally, the terrorist attack incident was given an official and reasonable explanation in the World Security Council's investigation. There was no terrorist attack incident; it was merely a meteorite that unfortunately struck the Central Cathedral in the Vatican.
The Pope and four Cardinals were martyred in the natural disaster caused by the meteorite.
As soon as the matter was announced, the Believers throughout The West fell into a period of mourning.
For the funeral of the former Pope, tens of thousands of devout Believers came to the Sacred Place to pray.
Even Tang Song, the President/CEO of the Tang Group, who rarely made an appearance, came to the Vatican despite his busy schedule.
The hastily crowned new Pope Hyde arranged a grand Honor Guard to welcome Tang Song and his entourage.
Two thousand Papal Knights formed a formation on the Ground. Everyone held their ceremonial swords in front of their chests. When Tang Song walked down the airstair of his private jet, the two thousand Papal Knights simultaneously knelt on one knee.
Pope Hyde, wearing a pure white robe and the Papal Tiara, slowly walked towards Tang Song. From a distance, Pope Hyde opened his arms: "Welcome, esteemed friend."
Boss Tang smiled and opened his hands, laughing as he walked towards Hyde.
Under everyone's gaze, Tang Song and Pope Hyde embraced each other tightly.
Pope Hyde began to introduce the High-Level Vatican Officials who had come with him to welcome Boss Tang. They were all newly promoted Bishops. There was nothing else to do; the true Vatican Core had long been buried in the Ground along with that unknown meteorite. And at this time, Boss Tang's Acquaintances from the Inquisition couldn't openly and honestly show their faces, as the Inquisition, as an organization, was not very popular in the Middle Ages.
Tang Song sighed and hugged Bishop Hyde tightly:
"My condolences!"
After the embrace, he and Bishop Hyde faced the Believers together, their expressions solemn and serious.
Beside them stood a Mature Woman in a long dress with long hair. On her forehead was a circle of scattered, crushed gold-like plum blossom marks, looking very beautiful. However, this good-looking Woman kept a cold face throughout.
However, when the Vatican's Photographer turned the lens towards her, the Observers watching the live broadcast all remembered her Appearance and classified her in their Files as someone not to Provoke.
To avoid subordinates getting into a conflict with Tang Song over a Woman.
During this time, in concealed locations unknown to Ordinary People, waves of bloody storms were stirred up.
Countless Wealthy Merchants had their homes confiscated and families annihilated, their assets taken over by the Tang Group and other Forces/Factions working together.
These ruined Tycoons were all members of the Freemasons.
Boss Tang was very busy. He made an appearance at the funeral and then left.
Bishop Hyde respectfully sent Tang Song off with a smile as he boarded his private jet and departed.
Afterward, the new Pope was crowned, and the first decree he announced was to summon all famous religious scholars and research Experts in Catholicism and Christianity from around the World to conduct a further revision of the Bible.
The reason was that many valuable Ancient Books had been burned down along with the meteorite.
"Boss, the person is dealt with. The one investigating our counterfeit money base was Bucky!"
On the Highway on the Outskirts of Detroit, a group of cleaners wearing one-piece raincoats were cleaning up the corpse pieces on the Ground with cleaning tools.
Not far away, Kane leaned against a Humvee, watching the cleaners under him clean up while talking on the Satellite Phone with Tang Song.
"The counterfeit money business doesn't mean much to us anymore. Find someone to shift the blame onto and add a record to Frank's performance!" On the Private Jet, Tang Song held the Satellite Phone in his hand, his left hand caressing Hela's stockings, which were pilling. Hela's face was as cold as an ice cube, and the crushed gold plum blossom imprint on her forehead continuously emitted golden radiance.
"How is Li Wen doing in Paris recently? I haven't seen him in a few years!"
"He's not very honest! Boss, the money we gave him is enough for him to live lavishly in France for a lifetime. Although he ostensibly opened an Art Gallery in Paris, our people have found that he has been secretly printing counterfeit money behind our backs! He partnered with the local Gangs in Paris and opened a Counterfeit currency factory!"
"He's The Painter, perhaps he's naturally fond of playing with simulation paintings. Then let's grant him his wish!"
"Yes, Boss!"
Kane listened as the call on the other end was hung up. He watched as the cleaners under him bagged and packed the corpse pieces on the Ground. After the Scene was cleaned up and the Garbage Truck left.
Only then did he open the Driver's Cab car door. In the Front Passenger Seat, a young man slowly sighed in relief after seeing Kane nod at him.
The thick mist that had covered this section of the Highway seemed to be thinning because the Sun had risen.
By the time the City of Detroit returned to its bustle, this busy Highway was no different from usual.
"That should have been Jehovah's Pasture just now. What exactly are you and Odin planning? The Heaven Dimension is not easy to provoke!?"
On the Private Jet, Tang Song hung up the phone. Hela, whose stockings had pilled from his caressing, slapped his hand away and asked.
(end of chapter)