There was something Evenson had never understood about superheroes.
Why did so many of them insist on fighting hand-to-hand?
The Hulk was one thing. When your fists hit harder than artillery, punching people made perfect sense.
But Iron Man?
War Machine?
They could streak across the sky at supersonic speeds wearing flying arsenals packed with machine guns, missiles, lasers, and enough firepower to flatten a city block. Yet every other fight seemed to end with them landing dramatically just so they could throw punches.
If they ran out of ammunition, sure.
Go brawl.
But if your weapons were still loaded, why fly across the battlefield to trade fists before going right back to shooting?
You were already airborne.
Just keep shooting.
Captain America wasn’t much better, in Evenson’s opinion.
The shield was iconic. Fine.
Keep the shield.
But couldn’t he carry a submachine gun in his other hand?
Instead, Steve Rogers threw the shield around like an oversized frisbee or charged headfirst into close combat.
What happened when the enemy stopped aiming for his chest and simply shot him in the legs?
Personally, Evenson thought Captain America’s ideal loadout should have been a vibranium shield in one hand and a machine gun with a three-hundred-round belt in the other.
With Steve’s strength, recoil wouldn’t even be an issue.
"So that’s why I’ve always thought Captain America’s fighting style was fundamentally flawed," Evenson said with complete confidence. "He spends too much effort maintaining a symbol instead of maximizing battlefield efficiency. I always assumed that was because superheroes need to inspire people. What surprises me is that Hydra copied him."
Horwyst chuckled bitterly.
"Besides the Red Skull, Captain America is the only enhanced human we’ve ever been able to study."
He rose from his chair as they left the conference room.
"The Red Skull was a leader. Leaders don’t charge onto the front lines unless everything has already gone terribly wrong. Captain America became our only practical example of how a super soldier fights."
He shook his head.
"And after their generation... there simply weren’t any more enhanced soldiers. No one ever stopped to ask whether that style of combat actually made sense."
He gestured toward the laboratory.
"Come. Show us how these Tyrants are supposed to fight."
"Gladly."
As they walked, Evenson casually picked up the Tyrant serum from the table and slipped it back into his possession.
Until the deal was complete, it stayed with him.
Not because he distrusted Horwyst.
Because scarcity created value.
The harder something was to obtain, the more carefully people treated it.
The laboratory was only half a minute away.
By the time they arrived, Rom had already changed out of the shredded clothes he’d ruined during the transformation.
He now wore a custom-made black bodysuit bearing Hydra’s emblem across the chest.
Evenson circled him thoughtfully.
"The first thing he needs is a fully enclosed armored combat suit."
Horwyst immediately signaled for researchers to begin taking notes.
"The armor plates protecting the vital areas should be cut from main battle tank armor."
He paused.
"Thinner, obviously. Fifty millimeters will do."
Several researchers instinctively looked up.
"Don’t worry," Evenson added. "His strength is more than enough to carry it without affecting mobility."
The vital areas were obvious.
Neck.
Shoulders.
Chest.
Back.
Upper arms.
Forearms.
Hands.
Groin.
Thighs.
Shins.
Feet.
Cover all of them.
Five centimeters of tank armor would make even sustained AK-47 fire feel like rain tapping against a window.
A normal human wearing that much steel would collapse under its weight and need half a dozen people just to stand back up.
A Tyrant wouldn’t even notice.
"The joints can’t use rigid plating," Evenson continued. "Reinforce those sections with heavy ballistic fiber layered over fire-resistant insulation."
The joints had to remain flexible.
Armor alone couldn’t accomplish that.
"The insulation isn’t just for comfort," he explained. "It’s insurance against flamethrowers."
Horwyst nodded while the researchers scribbled furiously.
"That covers protection."
Evenson turned to the offensive side.
"As for weapons... forget assault rifles."
He dismissed the idea with a wave.
"They don’t carry enough ammunition, and they don’t deliver enough sustained firepower."
He smiled.
"I recommend two M60 machine guns per Tyrant."
A few researchers nearly dropped their pens.
"Each loaded with two-hundred-round belts of armor-piercing ammunition."
He shrugged.
"They can dual-wield them without any problems."
The M60’s 7.62mm rounds already tore through infantry with terrifying efficiency.
Now imagine two of them firing simultaneously from a soldier who never tired, barely felt recoil, and could walk through incoming bullets.
For infantry...
For light vehicles...
It would be hell.
"They should also carry at least two full ammunition loads, twenty high-explosive grenades, and an individual anti-tank launcher."
He thought for another moment.
"And if logistics allow it..."
He smiled again.
"Give each one a fifty-kilogram aerial bomb."
Silence.
"...Excuse me?" one researcher blurted.
"They can throw it at least thirty meters."
Evenson spoke as though discussing grocery shopping.
"It isn’t technically outside the blast radius, but with their armor and durability, they won’t care."
He gave the suggestion another second of thought.
"Although I wouldn’t have them carry it from the start."
"Too heavy?"
"Exactly."
He nodded.
"That’s about it."
Then he looked at Horwyst.
"You may want to assign another truck just for ammunition."
Horwyst quietly wiped the sweat from his forehead.
This wasn’t a squad anymore.
It was a convoy of walking arsenals.
Twenty Tyrants equipped the way Evenson described...
Given an uninterrupted supply of ammunition...
Horwyst suspected they could have fought their way from Stalingrad all the way to Berlin.
The thought was utterly insane.
Wonderfully insane.
The Obelisk suddenly felt much closer.
Evenson glanced at him.
"So, Mr. Horwyst..."
"Do you accept my terms?"
The abrupt change of topic caught Horwyst off guard.
"Siberian Division."
"Mission report."
"December 16th, 1991."
Horwyst hesitated.
"I’ll need time."
He frowned apologetically.
"The Siberian Division isn’t technically under my direct authority."
Evenson’s expression cooled immediately.
Horwyst hurried to continue.
"That’s only on paper."
"The officers there are my protégés. Some were even my students."
He spread his hands.
"I can obtain the report you want."
"But it will take time to coordinate."
His voice became noticeably less confident.
"I guarantee you’ll receive it."
"So... could you perhaps..."
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t need to.
He wanted the serum first and intended to deliver the mission report afterward.
To his surprise, Evenson answered immediately.
"Certainly."
Without hesitation, he removed the Tyrant serum and handed it to one of the waiting researchers.
Then he looked directly at Horwyst.
"Don’t forget."
"Siberian Division."
"Mission report."
"December 16th, 1991."
Horwyst finally relaxed.
"Then we have an agreement."
"We do."
Evenson extended his hand.
Just before Horwyst could shake it, Evenson seemed to remember something.
"One more thing."
"Our company does not accept responsibility for damages resulting from customer misuse."
His smile broadened.
"And we do not offer refunds."
Horwyst’s hand froze halfway through the handshake.
"...Understood."
The meaning couldn’t have been clearer.
Umbrella had delivered exactly what was promised.
If Hydra misused the product, botched the mission, or failed to recover the Obelisk...
They would still owe Evenson everything they had agreed to pay.
As Evenson turned to leave, Horwyst couldn’t resist asking one last question.
"You aren’t worried I’ll refuse to pay?"
Earlier, Evenson had guarded the serum like his life depended on it.
Now he had accepted delayed payment without the slightest hesitation.
Why?
Evenson stopped at the doorway.
He smiled pleasantly.
Then he glanced toward Rom before looking back at Horwyst.
"Not at all."
"Our company’s accounting department..."
He let the sentence hang for just a beat.
"...is exceptionally professional."
"No one has ever managed to stay in debt to us for very long."
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter