Chapter 888

When Captain America's figure appeared outside the base, everyone froze. Nightingale was the first to react, exclaiming in shock: "Captain America?!

"My God!

" The Fungus Man's voice trembled as he said: "You're the living Captain America! They said you didn't die, that you came back—but I never thought I'd see you… God, am I hallucinating?!"

Speedball's mouth hung wide open, unable to close. He stood beside the cabinet, inside which most of the collectibles were high-priced Captain America figures he had painstakingly collected.

The rest of the team had envied his collection countless times—and now, Captain America himself stood before him.

"Captain America!

You… you… I mean, how did you get here? Earlier, we tried to apply to join the Avengers, but they said they weren't taking anyone. I've dreamed of meeting you—I can't believe it! Can you sign my autograph?!"

Speedball frantically rummaged through the drawer beneath the cabinet for paper and pen, then dashed through the crowd straight toward Captain America, desperate for his signature.

But Steve was nothing like the figurines on the shelf—no longer strong, brave, or full of vitality. Instead, he looked utterly exhausted.

Even through his mask, Speedball could see that Steve had aged suddenly—his youthful exterior now concealed a soul heavy with weariness.

"We'll talk about the signature later," he said, his voice no longer clear but hoarse. "I came here to ask you one thing—about Spider-Man's death."

The base's lively atmosphere halted for an instant—but Speedball erupted like a bomb, hurling his notebook to the ground: "Spider-Man! Spider-Man! The whole world is focused on Spider-Man!

Why is no one paying attention to us?!

"

"We're heroes too! We fought crime! We got hurt in the explosion!

" Speedball's voice screeched like metal scraping a wall; his neck veins bulged, his eyes bulged outward—he was beyond rage.

"Everyone's attacking us! Everyone pities Spider-Man! Just because he's dead? Why can't those people think clearly? We're all superheroes! We all want to do good! Why is he the only good one, and we're all villains?!

"Calm down," Steve said. "I didn't come here to debate this. I only want to know—during the explosion, did you see anyone suspicious?"

Speedball jabbed his pen hard into the table, trembling: "Suspicious people?!

Are you implying we're the suspicious ones?!

Are you saying we killed Spider-Man?!"

The Fungus Man stepped forward, grabbing Speedball's arm and soothing him: "Calm down, Captain's just investigating—he doesn't suspect us…"

But Speedball had shattered. He violently wrenched his arm free, braced himself on the table, and sobbed: "I just wanted to be a superhero! I never wanted to hurt anyone! I just wanted to catch criminals! I didn't mean to cause the explosion—I didn't want to kill Spider-Man…"

"We all know that," Nightingale said, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You should go rest for a while."

He gave a glance to a teammate; the Squirrel Girl pulled Speedball away, leading him to a nearby break room to be alone.

Nightingale was calmer than Speedball. He walked up to the Captain and said: "I'm sorry. We only meant to chase those criminals—but we had no real capacity to investigate them, and that led to this tragedy."

"If possible, I'd like the New Warriors to offer humanitarian compensation to his family."

"As for suspicious individuals…" Nightingale frowned. "I don't understand what happened, but at the time, we saw more than one Spider-Man—yes, many Spider-Men…"

"They dressed differently—even their genders varied—but all had the same spider-eyes and could shoot webs. I don't know if they count as suspicious…"

"Oh, and far off, there seemed to be two other people… I'm not sure if they were more Spider-Men…"

"I need one of you to accompany me to the chemical plant. Describe what happened there. I suspect Spider-Man's death wasn't accidental—someone orchestrated this."

Steve clenched his lips, his shield-hand trembling. "You might think you live in peaceful times—but shadows have never left us…"

"Fungus Man, go with the Captain," Nightingale said. Fungus Man nodded, ready to follow Steve—when Speedball burst out of the room: "I'm coming too!"

"I'll prove to you we're not killers! It was just an accident!" Speedball shouted again.

The others were exasperated. Nightingale stepped forward, whispering to Steve: "Sorry. Online, many are attacking us. Speedball's temper's bad—he's emotionally unstable right now…"

"It's fine. Let him come," Steve said, clearly unwilling to elaborate. He shook his head and turned to leave.

In the end, Nightingale, Fungus Man, and Speedball all sat in the car heading to the chemical plant.

The ride was silent. Steve showed no intention to speak. The others realized: their heroic, noble Captain America was tired. He was sad.

In the back seat, Speedball clenched his fists. Gazing out the window, he finally bit his lip and began quiet, shuddering sobs. Fungus Man patted his back, murmuring reassurances.

Nightingale in the front passenger seat looked grim. These past weeks, they'd borne unbearable pressure.

Everyone demanded they apologize—but Nightingale could only privately apologize to Captain America and offer compensation. He couldn't publicly admit fault—his team would collapse.

Speedball had the weakest mental resilience—but that didn't mean the others were strong. They were just kids, like all kids today: sensitive, lost, overwhelmed.

Under immense pressure, everyone held their breath. If one broke, the rest would follow. Nightingale refused to abandon the team he'd poured his soul into.

Speedball's sobs from the back made Nightingale shut his eyes in agony, gripping his weapon tightly.

He had to admit: even if they refused to admit guilt, Spider-Man's corpse that day filled them all with unbearable guilt.

He was a young, vibrant life—just like them. In his brutal death, they felt not only guilt, but deep terror.

As the New Warriors sat lost in thought, a sharp screech of brakes rang out—the car spun wildly, and before it could hit the roadside pole, all of them leapt out.

Captain America yanked Nightingale clear; Fungus Man dragged the dazed Speedball. The New Warriors scrambled, rolling and crawling out of the car—then the vehicle exploded.

Panic flooded their minds—but battle-hardened Steve gripped his shield, eyes locked on two figures appearing at the end of the road.

A man and a woman—twins, nearly identical, golden hair fluttering in the wind. But when they activated their powers, their eyes glowed faintly—like wolves creeping through darkness.

"Captain America Steve, Baron Strucker sends his greetings," the elder twin spoke first. The younger twin added coldly: "Irrelevant people should leave now. We want the lives of the ones behind you—they saw what they shouldn't have."

"It's you—Hydra!" Steve gritted his teeth, gripping his shield. "Did you kill Spider-Man?!"

Two cold snorts echoed. Flashes of light streaked through the air. Steve hurled his shield—*thud! —blocking one shockwave, while another plowed along the road's edge.

"Speedball, run!" Nightingale shouted—but then he froze, shook his head violently, chest heaving.

The younger twin's eyes flared. He smirked. Meanwhile, Steve, forced to block the elder twin's air blast, had to hold his shield steady.

He stared at the attackers, glanced back briefly, and said to the three New Warriors: "Go. They want you dead. Leave now—I'll hold them off!"

"Captain, let me help!" Fungus Man, the most composed of the group, joined the fight.

But as a mutant, Fungus Man—like other mutants—possessed great power but little education. He could communicate with bacteria, but his only effects were nausea, vomiting, or bacterial infections.

These abilities grew potent over time—but useless in short-term combat. His involvement forced Steve to protect him. When Nightingale joined, the situation worsened.

These young New Warriors had immense power but zero tactical sense. They never thought how to coordinate with the most experienced hero—Steve. They fought however they wanted, expecting others to adapt to them.

Facing the powerful Twins, Steve was already overwhelmed—and now, his teammates' chaotic actions hindered him. He fell back, step by step, barely holding ground.

Then he saw Speedball collapsed at the rear of the group, convulsing, clutching his throat.

The younger twin's eyes glowed brighter. Steve dodged an air blast, rolled sideways, and hurled his shield at the enemy.

But then he heard a savage roar behind him—followed by the sound of something hurtling through the air. Nightingale screamed:

"Speedball's controlled! They have mind powers!"

In an instant, Speedball, accelerated to maximum speed, slammed into Steve from behind.

His extreme velocity, strength, and control over energy fields made his fist devastatingly destructive.

*Crack! His fist punched straight through Steve's chest.

Steve's eyes widened—he saw his own blood spewing from the wound.

Pain flashed across his face—then life faded.

His shield-arm, once strong, went limp. He sank slowly to his knees. The bloodied shield rolled away along the road, finally stopping at the Twins' feet.

The strong arm holding the shield sank helplessly, then slowly knelt to the ground; the blood-stained shield rolled a distance along the road and came to rest before the Fenris Twins.