Not far from the command tent, Colonel Phillips stood at the entrance, his expression filled with pride and satisfaction.
The moment the roar of engines had echoed overhead, he'd stepped outside—and what he saw left even him momentarily stunned. Chen Mo's figure dropping straight out of the sky and landing unscathed… it was nothing short of breathtaking.
"As expected of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s strongest commander," Phillips muttered, eyes gleaming with admiration. "Now that is what I call a real super soldier."
Then, glancing toward the jeep where Steve was still gaping in awe, he snorted.
"Brat. Compared to your master, you've got a long way to go."
Onboard the plane, Steve still couldn't calm down. He kept stealing glances at Chen Mo, eyes full of excitement and disbelief.
Chen Mo's entrance — literally falling from the heavens — had been a shock to everyone, but to Steve, it was more than that. It had stopped him from doing something reckless.
It had been half a year since they'd last met. Back then, Chen Mo's strength was about the same as his own — formidable, yes, but still within human limits. Now, though…
To jump from that height, without a parachute, and land without injury — Steve knew he couldn't have done that himself. That wasn't just strength or endurance. That was perfect control, mastery of force and balance.
He couldn't help but feel both awe and motivation. His teacher had advanced so far, so fast.
Of course, what Steve didn't know was that Chen Mo hadn't jumped just to make an entrance.
After hearing in London that Steve had gone to Italy for a front-line performance—and that HYDRA's rogue bases had started moving again—Chen Mo's instincts had screamed trouble. A quick investigation confirmed his fears: Bucky's 107th Regiment had been ambushed, over a hundred men captured.
Knowing Steve's temperament, Chen Mo had acted immediately. If left alone, the kid would've charged straight into enemy lines. Even as a super soldier, Steve wasn't bulletproof, and running into tanks, artillery, and machine-gun nests with nothing but grit was as good as suicide.
So, dragging a still seasick and miserable Howard Stark from his bunk, Chen Mo had boarded a plane and flown straight to Italy.
The plan was to land at the nearby airfield—but as they neared the camp, Chen Mo's enhanced vision spotted something: on an open patch of muddy ground, Steve and Peggy were arguing beside a jeep.
If he landed first, Steve might already be gone by the time he got there. So, without hesitation, Chen Mo had told Howard to lower altitude and jumped.
It was a good thing he'd learned advanced shock-dissipation techniques from Huang Quan and the others. Otherwise, even with his superhuman physique, that landing wouldn't have looked nearly as graceful — more like a clumsy tumble through the mud.
Now, in the plane's cabin, Howard was at the controls up front, still pale from motion sickness. Peggy Carter sat a few seats back, still shaken by the way Chen Mo had appeared out of nowhere.
Moments ago, she'd been dead set on stopping Steve from going. Now, with Chen Mo personally accompanying him, her anxiety had evaporated. If anyone could get into a HYDRA base and come back alive, it was the man who had single-handedly wiped out two of them.
With Chen Mo around, she could finally breathe easy — and perhaps, this would be the perfect chance for Steve to experience the real style of S.H.I.E.L.D. operations… or more precisely, Commander Chen Mo's way of doing things.
And Chen Mo didn't disappoint.
He stood up, walked to the rear of the cabin, and drew back a heavy curtain.
Howard's private plane wasn't large, but it was well-furnished for the era: leather seats, reinforced iron plating along the floor and walls, and a small partitioned area at the back — once used for cargo.
Behind the curtain was a plain steel compartment, its metal ribs exposed. And in that cramped space sat a massive crate, nearly two meters long, securely fastened in place.
"Open it," Chen Mo said calmly, glancing at Steve. "I want you to do it yourself."
Steve, curious and a bit nervous, stepped forward. Chen Mo wouldn't bring something like this unless it mattered — and from the serious look on his face, this was definitely important.
Peggy joined him, equally intrigued. What could possibly be inside?
Steve undid the clasps and lifted the lid.
A gleam of silver met their eyes.
Inside the crate lay a round metallic shield, perfectly smooth and shining under the cabin lights. About seventy to eighty centimeters in diameter, with a subtle convex curve — simple, solid, beautiful.
Steve blinked and looked up at Chen Mo, unsure what to make of it.
Peggy, on the other hand, had already guessed. She'd seen Chen Mo's own shield before — black, imposing, nearly identical in shape. The one before her now looked brand new, its silver surface unblemished.
"In a few hours, you'll be fighting HYDRA face-to-face," Chen Mo said evenly, his gaze flicking to the painted prop shield Steve had leaned against the wall. "That toy might stop a pistol round, but a machine gun will turn it into scrap metal."
He nodded toward the crate.
"What's in there is your real gear — the finest technology S.H.I.E.L.D. has to offer."
He pointed at the shield.
"This one — and the sword beneath it — were both modeled after mine, forged entirely from adamantium."
Steve's eyes widened. He bent down, finally noticing the long, gleaming blade resting beneath the shield.
He picked up the shield first, feeling the unexpected weight, the balance — dense but not cumbersome, perfectly designed. It felt right.
"Adamantium is the hardest metal on Earth," Chen Mo continued. "Completely indestructible. This shield can withstand virtually any weapon without taking a scratch."
Steve's breath caught. His fingers tightened around the strap as the reality sank in. Something so ordinary-looking… and yet so unbreakable?
He couldn't help but grin — boyish, bright, and full of hope. With this in hand, rescuing Bucky suddenly felt possible.
Chen Mo's lips curved slightly. "Don't get ahead of yourself." He nodded toward the crate again.
"We're not done yet."