Logan couldn't even be bothered to lift his eyelids. He grabbed the last chunk of beef from the can, stuffed it into his mouth, and said indistinctly,
"Not interested. Killing Germans here is interesting enough."
That was just how he was—never liked being ordered around. Levi, on the other hand, thought very differently. He knew perfectly well who this mustached officer was. Dum Dum Dugan, from the movies—the guy who led the Howling Commandos. This was a golden chance to latch onto a powerful backer. Sticking with a proper elite unit was far better than roaming the battlefield as two rogue soldiers with Logan.
He quickly jabbed Logan with his elbow, then put on a polite smile and said to Dugan,
"Sir, my brother here's got a bit of a temper—don't take it personally. Of course we're interested. I'm just curious what exactly this 'interesting job' is."
Dugan's gaze swept over Levi and Logan. His small eyes gleamed with shrewd intelligence. He seemed completely unfazed by Logan's rudeness and instead showed more interest in Levi, the more "tactful" kid.
"A job where you can fully put your… 'special talents' to use," Dugan said with a meaningful smile tugging at his lips. "A job where you can kill to your heart's content. Come with me—we'll talk on the way."
With that, he turned around and left, not bothering to see whether Logan agreed or not.
Logan frowned, clearly annoyed and in no hurry to move.
Levi quickly leaned in and lowered his voice.
"Logan, think about it. Sure, the two of us can fight—but what if one day we run into real trouble? Hundreds of rifles trained on us, or tanks surrounding us? No matter how good your healing is, you'll still get turned into minced meat. Stick with them and at least we're part of an elite unit—gear, intel, logistics, all things we could never match on our own. Besides, from the way he talks, there'll be plenty of hard targets to chew on. Way more fun than slaughtering regular grunts, right?"
Logan fell silent. He might be wild, but he wasn't stupid. Levi wasn't wrong. The two of them were strong, but they were still only two people. He licked his lips, tossed the empty can to the ground, and stood up.
"Fine. We'll take a look," he said gruffly. "But if it's not as interesting as you say, I'm walking."
"Deal!" Levi was overjoyed and quickly followed after Dugan.
They were led onto a military truck covered in thick canvas. The cargo hold was pitch-black; nothing could be seen. The truck rumbled to life and bounced along the road, though Levi had no idea how long they drove or where they were headed.
Logan leaned against the side of the truck with his eyes closed, as if asleep. Levi couldn't sleep at all. He was buzzing with excitement. He knew this meant he was officially stepping onto the main storyline of the Marvel world. Next, he'd meet Captain America, meet Bucky, meet all those characters he'd only ever seen on screen.
The feeling was surreal. Just weeks ago, he'd been a corporate drone working late nights for a meager paycheck. Now he was riding in a truck headed for a secret base, about to become part of a legendary unit. His greatest assets were a copying ability still on cooldown—and a head full of "spoilers."
After an unknown amount of time, the truck finally came to a stop.
The canvas was pulled back, and bright lights made Levi instinctively squint. They were led into a massive underground base. It was a completely different world from the artillery-ravaged battlefield outside—brightly lit, bustling with soldiers and researchers in white lab coats. The air carried a mix of engine oil and disinfectant.
Dugan brought them into a briefing room. Several people were already seated inside, sprawled in all sorts of lazy poses. They clearly didn't look like ordinary soldiers: a Black guy playing a harmonica, a bespectacled Asian man with a scholarly air, and a Frenchman puffing on a pipe.
Levi knew it immediately—these were the original members of the Howling Commandos.
Dugan stepped to the front of the room, cleared his throat, and said,
"Welcome, our two newest members. I know you're all wondering why I've gathered you 'elites'—or perhaps 'freaks'—from different units into one place."
His gaze swept across everyone before settling on Levi and Logan.
"Because the enemy we're facing… isn't ordinary German soldiers."
He gestured behind him. An aide immediately pulled down the projector screen and started the film reel.
Click, click. The sound of film turning filled the room as a beam of light hit the screen.
The first image was a massive flag emblazoned with a red skull and six octopus-like tentacles. Beneath it stood countless fanatical soldiers, arms raised, shouting in unison:
"Hail Hydra!"
Levi's heart skipped a beat.
Here it comes.
Dugan's voice grew heavy.
"This is our real enemy—Hydra. Germany's deep science and strategic division, led by a man named Johann Schmidt, also known as the Red Skull. Their technology is far beyond our current understanding. The energy weapons they use can reduce a man to ash in an instant."
Grainy combat footage began to play. Levi saw Hydra soldiers in black uniforms wielding sleek, blue energy rifles. Beams of blue light flashed—and U.S. soldiers were vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing behind.
The atmosphere in the room instantly grew oppressive. Even Logan, usually so laid-back, furrowed his brow. He didn't fear death—but he hated dying without the chance to fight back.
"Conventional tactics and weapons have limited effect against them," Dugan continued. "So we need a special unit. A team that can infiltrate deep behind enemy lines and strike Hydra with unconventional methods. And you are the most… unconventional soldiers I could find."
Several people in the room looked thoughtful. Each of them was different in some way—misfits in their original units. Now, those differences were exactly why they'd been chosen.
"Our mission is to bite off every single one of Hydra's tentacles like a pack of rabid dogs. That's why this unit is called the Howling Commandos."
Dugan turned off the projector—but instead of turning on the lights, he loaded a new reel.
"Of course," he said lightly, "it's not all bad news. To fight Hydra, we've come up with a little… something of our own."
A new image appeared.
The tone changed completely. Stirring music played as a man in a red, white, and blue skintight suit appeared onstage, a white star on his chest and a shield shaped like a pot lid in his hand. Behind him, a line of blonde women in skimpy outfits sang and danced.
Logan grimaced.
"What is this? A circus clown?"
Levi nearly laughed out loud. He knew this well—the original image of Captain America, touring shows to sell war bonds. The outfit was unbelievably corny, dripping with the flavor of the era.
On screen, the man punched through a punching bag painted with Hitler's face, lifted several women with ease, and flipped across the stage with impossible agility. The whole reel was exaggerated and bombastic, full of blatant hero worship.
"This is Steve Rogers—who you'll soon know as Captain America," Dugan introduced. "He's the only successful result of our Super Soldier Program. His strength, speed, and reflexes have all reached the theoretical human limit. He's our trump card against Hydra."
Everyone stared in stunned silence. They might scoff at the ridiculous costume, but the superhuman physical feats on display were undeniably real.
Levi's eyes were glued to the screen, his heart pounding uncontrollably.
The healing factor only made him hard to kill. But he didn't want to be just an unkillable punching bag—he wanted real power.
And Captain America was the most ideal copying target he could realistically reach at this stage.
The Super Soldier Serum.
If he could copy that ability, his physical attributes would skyrocket across the board. Paired with Wolverine's healing factor, he'd be both offense and defense—able to take hits and dish them out. His survival chances on the battlefield would increase exponentially.
I have to get it, Levi swore silently, his eyes burning with desire.
The film ended, and the lights came back on.
Seeing the stunned expressions, Dugan nodded in satisfaction.
"I know what you're thinking—that he's just some stage performer. But soon enough, you'll see his real strength with your own eyes."
He paused, his expression turning grave.
"Yesterday, over a hundred of our soldiers were captured by Hydra during an operation. Among them was the captain's closest friend—Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. The captain has decided to go in alone to rescue them."
"And we—the Howling Commandos—have been assigned our first official mission: to provide support."
As Dugan finished speaking, Levi instinctively called up his system interface.
[System cooling down…]
[Remaining cooldown time: 4 days, 8 hours, 21 minutes…]
Levi frowned deeply.
Four days. Still more than four days.
The mission could begin at any moment. His ability was still on cooldown. That meant even if he met Captain America, he could only watch—unable to copy anything.
What now?
He needed a plan: survive this dangerous mission, find a chance to get close to Captain America, and make sure that chance appeared after his cooldown ended.
Levi rubbed his temples.
This was starting to feel harder than dodging bullets on the battlefield.