Chen Mo could only shake his head helplessly, then pointed at the crate again.
"This longsword is also forged from adamantium — razor-sharp and unbreakable. With enough strength behind it, you could literally cut through steel as if it were butter."
Only then did Steve remember the blade resting beneath the shield. He'd always been a shield fighter — show weapons were all he'd ever used — so he hadn't paid much attention before. Now, hearing Chen Mo's words, he realized this medieval two-handed knight sword was anything but ordinary.
The cabin space was cramped, so he only tested the grip and balance. A few kilos of metal felt light as a feather in his hand. Even one-handed, it moved smoothly, perfectly balanced.
Pleased with both shield and sword, Steve turned to Chen Mo, eyes shining.
"Thank you, Master! With these, I'll definitely bring Bucky back!"
Chen Mo's lips twitched. He was really starting to doubt whether Steve's IQ had dropped to zero.
First, the kid had wanted to charge into a heavily fortified HYDRA base with nothing but a jeep and a prop shield. Now, with a chest the size of a coffin in front of him, all he could see were two pieces of metal. Did this brat think Chen Mo went through all that trouble just to deliver two weapons?
Was being away from him for half a year enough for Steve to forget the first rule of combat — stay calm and think?
Chen Mo shot him a cold glare. Steve instantly stiffened; a chill ran down his spine. That look was all too familiar — the same one his master used before a "lesson" back at the dojo.
Before Steve could figure out what he'd done wrong, Chen Mo's icy voice cut through the air.
"There's also an adamantium combat armor in that crate. Put it on. Now."
Realization dawned on Steve. So that was why he was in trouble. He'd been too distracted by worry for Bucky and had forgotten his teacher's constant reminder: Never lose your composure.
Taking a deep breath, Steve steadied himself. When he looked back at Chen Mo, his eyes were calm and clear once more.
"Yes, Master."
Without hesitation, he began unbuttoning his jacket and trousers, revealing the tight blue uniform he wore beneath for his performances — thankfully sparing Peggy Carter the dilemma of whether to avert her eyes or pretend not to enjoy the view.
The suit fit like a second skin. When Steve donned the matte-black combat armor, his already powerful frame became even more imposing. The sculpted plating traced the lines of his muscles, giving him a look that was both sleek and intimidating.
Peggy's breath caught. Her eyes gleamed, her pulse quickened; her chest rose and fell faster than she'd like to admit.
"With this full-body adamantium armor," Chen Mo said evenly, leaning back in his seat, "you'll be nearly invulnerable. Just guard your head with the shield and avoid direct hits from heavy weapons — everything else, you can shrug off."
He glanced sideways at Peggy, who was clearly in a daze.
The British agent had already stepped closer, fingertips brushing the armor over Steve's chest. The cold, unyielding metal sent a shock up her arm — a shiver that made her skin tingle and her cheeks flush pink.
Steve froze, unsure whether to move or stand still. The scent of rain and steel mixed with her perfume — a strange, dizzying combination.
From his seat, Chen Mo watched them with mild amusement. Honestly, he thought, the tension between these two is thicker than armor plating.
Peggy finally caught herself, coughed lightly, and withdrew her hand, pretending to adjust her hair as she returned to her seat — though her cheeks were still faintly red.
Steve, embarrassed, quickly turned toward the crate again — only to lock eyes with Chen Mo's knowing smirk. Like a kid caught misbehaving, he immediately looked away, rummaging inside the crate as if his life depended on it.
He pulled out a full black tactical uniform, a harness system designed for carrying both shield and sword, and two pistols with holsters, magazines, and utility pouches.
Without needing a word from his teacher, Steve began equipping everything methodically. The shield locked onto his back via a custom magnetic clasp, easy to draw or stow without restricting movement. The sword slid vertically behind it, grip positioned just over his shoulder — one quick motion, and the blade would be in his hand.
Peggy, after forcing down another wave of admiration, cleared her throat and unfolded a map to distract herself.
"This HYDRA base is in Krausburg, nestled between two mountain ranges," she explained, tapping the coordinates. "According to aerial reconnaissance photos, it looks more like a massive industrial complex than a fortress."
"I'll get you as close to the front gate as possible!" Howard called from the cockpit, his voice full of excitement.
The man who had nearly died from seasickness days ago was now alert and energetic, hands flying over the controls as if he'd been born in the sky. The contrast was almost comical. Maybe the Stark family really did have flying in their blood — though his future son, Tony, would take that quite literally.
"No need," Chen Mo said flatly. "HYDRA's got anti-aircraft guns. One hit, and this tin can will be confetti."
"With my flying skills—" Howard began indignantly.
Chen Mo cut him off without looking up. "Even the best pilot can't dodge flak forever. If the plane goes down, Steve and I will walk away. You? You'll just decorate the landscape. And as for Agent Carter—" he turned his gaze toward the back of the cockpit, voice turning dangerously calm, "you're going to get her home safely. Unless you want to see how she feels about being your co-pilot in mid-air acrobatics?"
Howard swallowed hard and shut his mouth. Sure, he didn't mind dragging Chen Mo into danger — the man was his boss, after all, and practically indestructible. But Peggy? Even he wasn't that shameless.
Chen Mo had long figured Howard out: a bizarre mix of cowardice and thrill-seeking. Terrified of dying, yet addicted to danger — a contradiction that made him both a genius and a headache.
Howard stayed quiet after that.
Chen Mo studied the map one last time, then gave his final order.
"We're already past the German front line. Once we reach the mountains and locate HYDRA's base, Steve and I will jump."
He folded the map, looked over his shoulder, and added coolly,
"You two turn the plane around and head straight back to London. That's an order."