"Hell's Kitchen" had always been a breeding ground for crime. Drug production and trafficking ran rampant, and human trafficking, extortion, and prostitution were everyday occurrences.
Gangs from all over the world had carved out territory here, maintaining shady dealings with countless high-ranking government officials—so many that even the U.S. government could do little to intervene.
Now, with the military and police launching a massive siege, the gang members were on edge. It was clear that if the situation continued, armed resistance would be unavoidable.
Faced with this crisis, the gang leaders—who normally fought each other to the death—began to secretly plot and speculate about the military and government's intentions. Just then, Nick Fury's order to convene a meeting arrived without warning.
None of them dared delay. The meeting was scheduled for twenty minutes later, but all of them arrived within ten, sitting neatly and quietly, stripped of their usual arrogance and meek as quails.
Inside a makeshift conference room, Nick Fury stood at the head of the table, glaring down at the leaders perched on small stools below him, his expression cold and unforgiving.
"On behalf of the U.S. government, I'm informing you now—if you want to keep living peacefully, you'd better listen carefully."
His tone was harsh, like a teacher berating disobedient students, yet not one dared show annoyance. Only an elderly Asian woman sitting among them displayed a hint of disdain. She was Madam Gao, one of the Five Fingers of the Hand.
A traitor to Kunlun who had prolonged her life using stolen dragon bones, Madam Gao—despite her frail and withered appearance—had lived for at least four centuries.
She had once been Kingpin's partner, but ever since Loki's arrival had crippled the Hand's influence, their alliance had shattered.
Naturally, such an ancient woman sitting alone among a crowd of towering gangsters stood out sharply.
But Fury didn't have the leisure to care about her right now; he had only one priority—ensuring nothing disrupted Kassa's comfort.
"A big shot is coming here soon. To him, you and I are nothing but insects crawling in the mud—playthings at best." Fury's words echoed through the room, turning the gang bosses' expressions bitter.
Who could possibly command such power that the U.S. government would mobilize troops and agents just to prepare the way?
None of them understood, and none dared ask. Fury already felt it beneath him to speak so politely to these criminals; there was no need to explain further.
"I know many of you rely on high-ranking officials for protection. But believe me—if you offend him, not even the President of the United States can save you.
"So during this period, I want HelI's Kitchen clean—orderly, prosperous, harmonious. If any idiot thugs show up on the streets and block his way, don't blame me for not warning you!" Fury concluded with a heavy, forceful threat.
Then he turned to the old woman in the crowd. "Mrs. Gao, my people have been watching the Hand for a long time. I've ignored you until now—but don't give me a reason to clean house."
He said this in fluent Mandarin. Madam Gao had been pretending to be a frail old immigrant who didn't speak English and required a translator. The warning made her stiffen for a moment, but outwardly she only nodded gently. Anyone who didn't know her would think she was simply a kind, harmless grandmother.
Having finished his business, Nick Fury immediately adjourned the meeting.
Within moments, all major gangs in Hell's Kitchen seemed to move in unison: drug labs shut down, drug dens closed, even the red-light district went dark. Only ordinary, legitimate businesses continued as usual.
This bizarre peace naturally made Captain America wary. If Fury had arrested him immediately, he might never have escaped—but because of Kassa, he had been given time, and he seized it.
Realizing danger was closing in, Rogers quickly led his corrupted allies into the labyrinthine sewer system to escape.
But Nick Fury was nothing if not cunning.
Even a single strand of hair on his head would have been hollow—if he had hair.
The sewer exits had long since been sealed off by Crossbones' men.
But who was Rumlow?
A Hydra elite embedded deep within S.H.I.E.L.D. Assigning him to capture a defected Captain America… was no different from asking one thief to hunt another.
A guaranteed failure.
After secretly consulting Alexander Pierce and confirming that Captain America had indeed been cursed by the God of Light—causing his sudden personality shift and defection from S.H.I.E.L.D.—Rumlow received new orders.
"Protect Captain America at all costs and guide him to Hydra."
The command was so unexpected that even the battle-hardened Crossbones froze. Everyone knew Captain America was Hydra's mortal enemy.
What on earth was going on?
As he struggled to understand the situation, a subordinate suddenly rushed inside.
"Captain! The sensors at the intersection of Underground Passage 24 detected a heat-source reaction—it's the Evil Alliance!"
Rumlow's expression changed instantly. He snatched up the map of the underground passages and unfolded it on the table.
"Passage 24 has three branches," the subordinate continued. "They lead to Exits 26, 28, and 32. All those areas are guarded by our people. Once Captain America arrives, we'll be able to trap him like a rat in the sewers."
"The plan has changed. We don't need that much trouble."
Crossbones shook his head, activating a covert communication channel to the squad guarding Exit 28.
"Eliel, pull your men from the exit immediately. And then… this, this, and that…"
He murmured a few more instructions, quickly finishing the plan before cutting the communication—then even shut down the heat-source sensor entirely.
Meanwhile, at Exit 28, Eliel—a tall, dark-skinned agent—received his superior's orders. Not daring to delay, he evacuated his entire squad at once. Then he entered the sewer alone, positioning himself quietly at the junction of Passage 24 and Exit 28.
By this time, Captain America and the Evil Alliance had already passed Exit 26. Finding it heavily guarded, they doubled back—and immediately came face-to-face with the lone agent waiting for them.
"Hello, Captain!"
Eliel waved warmly, his bright smile flashing in the dark. The Evil Alliance nearly jumped out of their skins at the sudden gleam of teeth.
Electric sparks crackled in Electro's palm as he recognized the uniform. His eyes narrowed, ready to blast the intruder on sight.
But Rogers noticed something off.
The corridor was dead silent.
Only Eliel's breathing echoed through the darkness.
"You're alone?" Captain America asked, genuinely surprised.
One person blocking their path? Did he think he was Casanova or something?
Eliel shrugged casually. "I'm just a messenger. I trust the Captain won't make things difficult for me."
"Whose message?" Rogers demanded. "And who exactly do you represent?"
S.H.I.E.L.D. only followed Fury's command… or so he thought. Were there other factions at work?
Eliel replied, "I'm here to tell you that if you follow this path, you'll be safe. Also, my boss asked me to deliver a message: S.H.I.E.L.D.'s influence isn't confined to America. Its reach spans the entire world. If you ever find yourself cornered…"
He held out a small folded note.
"…you can use this satellite phone to call for help."
He handed it to Rogers, then stepped aside to let them pass.
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