The night air in Brooklyn’s Industrial District was always thick with the scent of rust and engine oil.
Lin Xuan’s figure moved like a ghost, darting swiftly through the shadows of the labyrinthine factories and between shipping containers.
The enhanced senses granted by the Super Soldier Serum allowed him to easily pick up the distant sound of footsteps and the low rumble of vehicle engines.
The original owner’s fragmented memories were proving invaluable now; he possessed a near-instinctive familiarity with this area.
Sirens continued to wail in the distance, but he had temporarily shaken off his pursuers.
He needed energy—a lot of it.
The burning sensation in his stomach grew more intense, a stark reminder of the body’s massive energy consumption.
His gaze swept across a street corner, landing on a tavern glowing with dim neon lights.
The sign read “Old Man’s Barrel,” a typical working-class haunt.
*This is the place.*
Lin Xuan slowed his pace.
In a hidden corner, he quickly stripped off the conspicuous Hydra combat jacket and helmet, leaving only the dark, tight-fitting tactical undershirt.
He ran a hand through his slightly disheveled hair.
Taking a deep breath, he tried his best to look like an ordinary worker who had just finished his shift, then pushed open the tavern’s creaking wooden door.
The pungent stench of tobacco, cheap alcohol, and sweat hit him in a wave as he stepped inside.
The tavern was dimly lit, its air thick with swirling smoke.
By the bar, and in the corner booths, sat patrons with weary faces or numb eyes.
No one spared a glance for the well-built yet slightly exhausted-looking Asian young man at the door.
Lin Xuan walked straight to the bar and ordered in reasonably fluent English, “A double cheeseburger, a large order of fries, and a draft beer, please.”
The bartender was a burly, bald man with a face like a slab of meat.
He glanced at Lin Xuan, muttered “Another starving ghost,” and turned to prepare the order.
Soon, a mountain of food and a frothing beer were placed before him.
He found an inconspicuous corner to sit in, almost impatiently grabbing the burger and devouring it.
He ate with frantic speed, as if trying to make up for all the hunger and depletion his body had endured.
The food was like nectar, nourishing his nearly withered frame.
The bone-deep weakness was rapidly receding, replaced by the solid sensation of strength returning.
His cells seemed to rejoice, greedily absorbing every ounce of energy.
In his mind, the System’s prompts chimed in right on cue.
[Status Monitoring: Energy Replenishing…]
[Physical Function Recovery Efficiency Increasing…]
[Current Status: Mildly Weakened (Recovering) $rightarrow$ Status: Basic Recovery (Low Energy Reserves)]
Lin Xuan could feel his strength, speed, and reflexes steadily returning.
Though his energy reserves remained low, he had at least regained his basic combat effectiveness.
He slowed his eating, took a sip of the draft beer, and felt the icy liquid slide down his throat, bringing a refreshing chill.
Just as he felt he had recovered about seventy to eighty percent of his stamina, the tavern door swung open again.
Four men walked in.
They wore ordinary casual jackets, but their aura was starkly different from the weary or rugged patrons around them.
Their posture was upright, their stride steady, and their gazes as sharp as hawks, silently and swiftly scanning everyone in the tavern.
*Professional training,* Lin Xuan thought, his heart pounding.
*This kind of presence… they are definitely no ordinary people.*
Their hands seemed casually tucked into their pockets or hanging by their sides, but they were all positioned subtly close to their waists or the inside of their jackets.
The leader’s gaze paused briefly on Lin Xuan before casually moving on.
But that fleeting moment of locking on did not escape Lin Xuan’s enhanced senses.
*Hydra agents!*
*They’ve found me.*
Lin Xuan’s heart leaped, but his face remained calm.
He didn’t immediately get up and run.
That would have alerted them.
Instead, he took his time finishing the last bite of his burger, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then stood up to pay at the bar.
“How much?”
“Fifteen dollars,” the bald bartender said without looking up.
Lin Xuan pulled a few crumpled dollar bills from his pocket—change he’d scavenged from the Hydra soldier earlier—and paid the tab.
He didn’t head straight for the front door.
Instead, he turned and walked toward a corridor marked “Restrooms / Back Alley Exit.”
His pace was unhurried, even deliberately slow.
He looked as if he were simply going to the restroom or leaving through the back door.
The four agents exchanged a subtle glance.
*Got him.*
Two of them immediately followed, while the other two trailed behind more leisurely, forming a loose perimeter.
They clearly intended to make their move in the secluded back alley, neutralizing their target as quietly as possible.
A cold smile touched Lin Xuan’s lips.
*Just as I hoped.*
The alley was narrow and dim, cluttered with beer barrels and miscellaneous junk.
A damp, musty odor hung heavy in the air.
Just around the corner, certain they were out of sight of the tavern’s main hall, Lin Xuan stopped dead in his tracks and spun around.
The two agents leading the way hadn’t expected their target to strike back so decisively.
Their pupils constricted in shock.
Almost instinctively, their hands flew to their waists.
A flash of cold steel!
Two razor-sharp tactical knives were already in their grip.
But Lin Xuan was faster.
The strength and speed he had just regained erupted in this instant.
He shot forward like an arrow from a bow, closing the distance to the agent on the left in a heartbeat.
Before the man could even fully thrust his knife, Lin Xuan’s fist whistled through the air, smashing precisely into the agent’s jaw.
*Crack!*
The crisp sound of bone shattering echoed.
The agent collapsed backward like a puppet with its strings cut, without even a grunt of pain, crashing into a pile of empty beer bottles.
Almost simultaneously, the agent on the right thrust his dagger toward Lin Xuan’s ribs, the blade cutting through the air with a lethal chill.
Lin Xuan dropped his center of gravity, his left elbow snapping back like a steel whip to strike the inside of the agent’s wrist.
*Clang!*
The sharp impact knocked the dagger aside, sending it clattering against the wall.
The agent let out a muffled groan as a searing pain shot through his wrist.
Lin Xuan’s elbow strike didn’t stop there.
He pivoted, driving the blow upward and smashing it into the agent’s chest.
*Thud!*
The air was driven from the agent’s lungs.
He stumbled backward, slammed into the grease-streaked wall, and slid to the floor.
The dagger flew from his grip.
Seeing this, the two agents behind them drew their weapons—a dagger and a telescoping baton—and flanked Lin Xuan, attempting a pincer attack.
But in the narrow corridor, Lin Xuan moved like a phantom, his figure flickering and elusive.
He kicked a half-full trash can, sending it flying toward the agent with the baton to block his path.
Then, with a sudden burst of power from his legs, Lin Xuan lunged forward, charging straight at the agent with the dagger.
The blade flashed, thrusting directly at Lin Xuan’s face.