Marvel: Apocalyptic Beginning, a High-Level Game!

Chapter 201 The Death of Zemo

Actually, Spider-Man's worries were completely unnecessary.

While they were battling Bullseye outside, Black Panther and the others inside did encounter some trouble, but it was only minor.

Within this confined space, the sentinel robots, originally intended as weapons of war, could not appear and were of no use whatsoever.

But it's really not needed.

"Welcome, welcome! Clint Barton, you should be grateful that the great Baron Zemo spared that ridiculous clown forty-five years ago. But what surprises me is that this clown dares to come knocking on my door today."

That undoubtedly caused young Zemo's roar to echo wildly throughout the base. Black Panther and Hawkeye were both on high alert, as for Spider-Man—

Well, he hasn't gotten used to going up against Zemo yet.

"Let me guess, where did you find these teammates?"

A guy pretending to be Black Panther, a guy wielding Thor's hammer but dressed as Spider-Man.

No, no, no...

I have seen the records of your arrival, and I have also seen the villains you killed.

These guys aren't imposters; they're the real deal.

Time travel?

Perhaps not, after all, they are already dead, that's a given fact.

So there's only one answer left—the multiverse, right?

Neither Black Panther nor Hawkeye spoke; after all, they were there to kill someone, and there was no need to say much to them.

Even the little spider kept its mouth shut, which was quite unusual for it.

There was nothing he could do; Black Panther had already told him before he arrived that he shouldn't talk nonsense if there was nothing wrong with it.

But there is no doubt that Zemo's wisdom exceeded all of their expectations.

Or rather, in any world, he is smarter than people imagine.

"Fine, fine. Since you dare to challenge the great Baron Zemo, then now—first, fight against my Hydra captains. Only after you win will you be qualified to challenge me."

Upon hearing this, both Black Panther and Hawkeye's pupils lit up simultaneously.

Black Panther quickly turned his head, seemingly saying something to Spider-Man.

But Zemo didn't care; he stayed in his command room, watching the battle unfold.

He longed to see a great battle between a hero and an anti-hero, with the hero eventually fighting his way to him and then bringing an end to everything.

It's a real shame—but as the wall that didn't look like a door at all slowly opened the door, the cloned man, who had also been injected with the super soldier serum, appeared, carrying a costume that looked like a modified Captain America outfit, and instantly hurled a surging thunder hammer.

That's right, it's Spider-Man.

Are you kidding me? You don't really think they're stuck here and don't want to listen to that boring communication, do you?

Isn't it because the door suddenly disappeared while we were fighting? We can't just carve a path through reinforced concrete, can we?

Now that the other party has opened that door for them, he is naturally more than happy to accept it.

Black Panther didn't bother with their nonsense; if he had absolute power, he would just crush them.

Oh, that Hydra captain who didn't even have time to say his opening remarks, saw Thor's hammer fly out of the newly opened door and instinctively raised his shield to block it.

Unfortunately, mortal strength is far too weak compared to Thor's hammer.

Knowing their formidable strength, Zemo didn't deploy just one Hydra captain this time, but a full ten.

The problem is that these ten Hydra captains, who were almost sitting in a row and charging out, didn't even show their faces.

The first Hydra captain to step forward had his shield smashed through by Thor's hammer, exploding into blood and gore. The hammer continued to advance without diminishing its momentum.

Black Panther and the others rushed in instantly.

Zemo stared wide-eyed as the scene he had painstakingly created was instantly destroyed. He instinctively wanted to roar, but he suppressed it.

His eyes began to tremble, but not with surprise, but with joy.

Because he felt his previously rigid brain gears begin to spin rapidly.

As things progressed, he came up with several other ways to deal with these guys, but unfortunately, he rejected them one by one.

He had never felt his brain could work so fast.

It was as if his brain had rusted like a machine after everything ended forty-five years ago.

And now-

When the lubricant finally arrived, he realized his machine was far too old.

He desperately wanted to smile, but his mouth could only manage an awkward arc that looked worse than crying.

The heroes stormed the villains' stronghold, encountering the scientists the villains had tried to kill before leaving. Thanks to Spider-Man and Black Panther, Hawkeye rescued them all this time.

After taking care of all the villainous minions, Black Panther revealed his claws, and these guys, without any hesitation, revealed the location of their leader.

Black Panther took the lead, his vibranium suit an absolute defensive weapon.

Hawkeye, on the other hand, had his bow drawn and was ready to fire at any moment.

As for the little spider—

He became much more taciturn.

But he also wanted to see what kind of person Zemo was in this world.

Unfortunately, when the door opened—

The scene that unfolded left both Hawkeye and Black Panther speechless with astonishment, and even Spider-Man was too shocked to speak.

What did they see?

They originally thought that what would appear would be an old man, after all, that's normal, age waits for no one.

At most, they could understand if he had a big belly, since Osborne had a precedent.

But the problem is that what they saw—the old man—was actually here, just like Hawking.

As the wheelchair creaked and emerged, various impressive-looking precision instruments displayed fluctuating numbers.

Multicolored lights flashed intermittently, accompanied by a strange sound as the tires rolled across the ground.

"I never imagined you, you bastard, would turn out like this. How could you have become like this?"

Hawkeye was losing control of his emotions. He even dropped his guard and stormed up to the man in the wheelchair before he could even put away his bow and arrows.

Ah, he really hoped that all of this was fake, so he could jump up and shoot him a couple of times to wake him from his hallucinations. That way, he could kill him without any hesitation and console his fallen comrades!

But now—

"Enough, Hawkeye! Stop pitying me with that disgusting look in your eyes."

The great Baron Zemo needs no pity. I am a great nobleman, and noble blood flows in my veins!

My father was once the most outstanding scientist in the empire, and I have followed in his footsteps!

I destroyed the world's most powerful hero organization, I reclaimed the Thunder Forces that had betrayed me, and I personally crushed you.

And now—”

Zemo frantically tapped the makeshift keyboard with his only three fingers.

That mechanical tone was no longer the youthful and handsome one from the previous hall; or rather, this was the most essential voice.

"That damned disease took everything from me—my body, my health—leaving me here in this filthy state to meet my former defeated foe!"

But that doesn't matter! Hawkeye, you're not worthy to kill me. You don't deserve it, you don't have that honor!

However, Black Panther from another universe, becoming the King of Wakanda—you are worthy of it!

So, take off your mask, let me see what your face really looks like, and then give me the death I deserve!

Zemo wanted to roar wildly, but he couldn't.

His facial expressions were extremely limited, with only his mouth twitching, which made everyone feel sorry for the man in front of them.

But such a pitiful look was undoubtedly the most painful thing for his proud heart.

He should be one of the most powerful villains in all the crazy dreams, the most intelligent one, and the most terrifying one.

He can manipulate everyone with just a flick of his finger or a turn of his head!

Black Panther did not answer him.

He turned his back, even patting Spider-Man on the shoulder, and the two walked together back through the passage they had come from. This undoubtedly extinguished Zemo's last wish.

He angrily pounded the keyboard with his fingers, almost incoherently, only managing to type a few characters correctly.

"You can't leave! You can't leave! Black Panther, T'Challa! I destroyed Wakanda, destroyed your people, destroyed everything you were supposed to protect! You should be the one to deliver the final judgment, not this—disgusting Hawkeye!"

Unfortunately, Black Panther did not turn back.

Even under such circumstances, Hawkeye suffered such humiliation, and he truly felt as if he had been underestimated.

But as he looked at his equally aged nemesis, a hint of pity gradually crossed his face.

But that doesn’t mean he’ll go easy on him.

He took an arrow from his quiver, gripped it tightly, and then, as if it were a dagger, pierced the old man's chest.

"For the Avengers, for the Thunder, for everything I have—go to hell."

"Oh...it's my Thunder Force, I created them...I once utterly defeated you."

Hawkeye will never forget that fleeting glance the other person gave before they died.

Even as he lay dying, he tapped out the last few keys on the keyboard, completely overwhelming Hawkeye with the victor's words.

Looking at the dead old man before him, Hawkeye silently turned his head away.

He had once suffered a crushing defeat, but now he has won it all back.

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