Marvel: The Villain Chapter 355 Music

The meeting concluded, the holographic projections flickered out, and the five council members logged off simultaneously. Each of them was already mentally drafting the reports they would present to their respective leaders, bracing themselves for the inevitable backlash or even dismissal.

In the now-empty conference room, two men stood face-to-face in a tense silence. Alexander Pierce stood with his hands on his hips, his face flushed a deep, angry red.

"Suspending Project Insight! Are you fucking kidding me, Nick? Do you have any idea how many years I've spent preparing for this? How much blood, sweat, and tears went into it? If this project succeeds, we could wipe out crime globally in a single stroke!"

Spittle flew from his lips, but Fury didn't even blink. He gave a slight, steady nod. "I know everything you've put into it, sir."

"No! You clearly don't!" Pierce snapped, turning away, unable to look at him.

Fury explained patiently, "Sir, precisely because I understand the importance of Project Insight, I have to ensure there isn't a single point of failure. Last night proves there is a mole in SHIELD—maybe more than one. If a traitor gets their hands on Insight, the consequences will be apocalyptic. We cannot launch until we've cleaned the house."

Pierce dropped his hands and sighed in defeat. "Fine. The project is halted anyway. You can say whatever you want now."

"Don't worry," Fury consoled him. "As soon as we get to the bottom of this, Project Insight will be back online."

Shouting wasn't going to solve anything. Once Pierce calmed down, he asked, "How do you plan to handle this internal investigation?"

Fury thought for a moment and said, "Sir, I want you to head the internal investigation."

Pierce was baffled. "This was your idea. Now you're dumping it on me? What the hell are you planning?"

Fury turned and began walking out. "I'm heading to New York. I have an urgent matter to handle personally."

"What could be so urgent?" Pierce called out, but Fury was already gone.

*

Back in his office, Pierce finished a heavy cigarette, his fury still simmering. He dialed an internal line and ordered Stansfield to come in immediately.

Stansfield arrived looking like he hadn't slept, his grey suit jacket open, a button missing from his white shirt, and a day's worth of stubble on his chin. Despite the disheveled look, he had a smirk on his face as he sat down. "Mr. Secretary, what's this I hear about my suspension and investigation?"

"You brought this on yourself!" Pierce snapped, sealing the office. "That freak who attacked Fury last night... he was one of yours, wasn't he? From the Joker Organization?"

Stansfield nodded. "Pretty much."

Pierce slammed his hands on the desk and roared, "If he's one of yours, why the fuck didn't he just kill Fury? Or at least put him under total control? Now Fury is suspicious, he's halted Project Insight, and he's triggered an internal purge!"

Stansfield's smile faded, but he seemed utterly unbothered by the investigation. He said calmly, "The high-ranking members of the Joker Organization are free agents. They do what they want, when they want. He's a newcomer, and I don't have the authority to order him around."

"No authority!" Pierce laughed bitterly, pointing a finger at Stansfield. "Well, let me tell you something: Fury started this investigation specifically to target you. From this moment on, you're under house arrest and 24-hour surveillance."

"So, I get a vacation?" Stansfield stood up to leave, chuckling. "Great. I've been meaning to catch up on some Netflix anyway."

Watching Stansfield stroll out of the office with such nonchalance, Pierce's fists clenched. His lungs felt like they were going to burst.

When it rains, it pours.

Project Insight, his life's work, was forced to a halt.

The HYDRA cells hidden within SHIELD were about to be put under a microscope.

His loyal subordinate was talking back to him.

And his long-term partners in the Joker Organization had just stabbed him in the back.

The fourfold blow made Pierce's head throb, a sharp pain as if someone were driving a spike into the back of his skull. He let out a long, heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the chair.

After a few moments of closed-eye rest, he began to analyze the crisis.

The internal investigation was a headache, but not insurmountable. He had been at SHIELD long enough to navigate red tape. As long as they cleared the internal hurdles, Insight could be revived.

As for the Joker Organization's betrayal... he suddenly saw it clearly. In the past, he was the strong one and they were weak; Stansfield had been obedient. But times change. The Joker Organization and HYDRA were no longer on the same level. Stansfield's behavior today was inevitable, even if it was emotionally hard to swallow. Fortunately, they had no fundamental conflict of interest and shared a common enemy in SHIELD, so a full-scale war was unlikely for now.

What truly worried Pierce was Fury's behavior.

In the meeting, Fury had broken protocol and openly defied him, ignoring years of mentorship. He had made snide remarks implying an unusual relationship between Pierce and Stansfield, halted the project, and then—the biggest red flag of all—handed the investigation power over to Pierce.

Fury wasn't a man who gave up. This was a move.

Pierce analyzed everything he knew about Fury. Fury had discovered something and needed to investigate it off the grid. SHIELD was compromised by HYDRA—Fury didn't know the name, but he knew the agency was rotten. He knew an internal investigation would yield nothing, so he had to leave.

But investigating alone was suicide. If he touched the core secrets of the enemy, he'd be dead.

If I were Fury, Pierce thought, I would leak my findings to a trusted outside party. Someone loyal, reliable, and capable of extreme violence.

Then, Fury would use a fake death to trick the enemy, drawing all the heat onto himself or the outsider while he operated from the shadows. A two-pronged attack. One in the light, one in the dark.

Pierce had guessed 80% of Fury's plan. The only question: Why tell me where he's going?

Fury's final words were a challenge. He was telling Pierce: "I'm going to New York to dig up your dirt. Send someone to follow me."

Suddenly, a bolt of realization hit Pierce. He stood up abruptly.

That's it. He told me his location because he's forcing me to kill him!

Pierce's face turned pale. Fury had already locked onto him as the traitor. He couldn't be 100% sure, but he was highly suspicious. The leak regarding Wakanda could have been anyone, so Fury gave his next move to only Pierce.

If Pierce didn't try to kill him, Fury would investigate at his own pace. But if Pierce was the mole, he wouldn't let Fury live through the night. As soon as Fury died, it would prove Pierce was the traitor to the outside party Fury had set up.

The outside party... Pierce smirked.

In New York. Trusted. High combat power.

There was only one person who fit that description.

Nick Fury... you old spy dog.

Pierce saw the two paths ahead, but in reality, he only had one choice.

His phone buzzed. It was Brock Rumlow, leader of the STRIKE team and a fellow HYDRA agent.

"What is it?"

"Sir, we lost him. Fury vanished at a coffee shop downtown. We've swept the area, but he's gone off the grid."

"Useless!" Pierce hissed. He wasn't surprised. Sending soldiers to track a master spy was like sending a dog to catch a ghost. "Fall back. I'll handle Fury with someone else."

Pierce dialed a different, private number. "Have him meet me at my house this afternoon."

*

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky turned a bruised purple. On the outskirts of Long Island, a beat-up old Ford drove slowly down a rugged coastal road toward a small wooden beach house.

Steve Rogers got out of the car, carrying a heavy grocery bag in each hand—a week's worth of food and supplies. As he reached the door, he heard something from inside.

Music.

Specifically, a song from the 1940s—Peggy's favorite.

Steve knew he had turned his stereo off before he left. He had company.

He set the bags down and quietly slipped in through the kitchen window. The house was pitch black; the guest had closed all the curtains. Steve grabbed the decorative shield from the wall and crept toward the living room.

He rounded the corner, shield ready, only to see a black man in civilian clothes lying on his sofa. The man spotted him instantly.

Steve exhaled and lowered the shield. "I don't remember giving you a key."

Fury sat up. "I don't need keys to open doors... My wife kicked me out."

Steve froze, genuinely surprised. "I didn't even know you were married."

The idea of a man as paranoid and cynical as Fury having a wife was a shock.

Fury reached into Steve's grocery bag and pulled out a wrap. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Cap."

Steve shook his head, uninterested in the details. He moved to turn on the light, but Fury's gaze sharpened, and he gave a subtle shake of his head.

Steve stopped, his hand hovering. Fury licked some crumbs off his fingers, pulled out his phone, and typed a line of text:

[S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised.]

Steve's eyes narrowed as he scanned the room.

"Sorry to drop in like this," Fury said aloud, "But I had nowhere else to go." He continued typing:

[The house is bugged.]

Steve played along. "Who else knows about your wife?"

"Just my friends," Fury replied.

"Are we friends?" Steve asked.

Fury stood up and walked toward him. "That's up to you."

THWIP-THWIP-THWIP!

Sudden, muffled thuds echoed. High-caliber sniper rounds punched through the wooden walls of the cabin, tearing into Fury's torso.

"Gah!"

Fury let out a strangled cry and collapsed into a pool of blood.

Steve moved like lightning, pulling Fury down and shielding them both with his shield. More bullets followed, clanging off the shield with sharp metallic rings. Steve dragged Fury toward the safety of the kitchen.

He ripped open Fury's shirt; three massive holes were gushing blood from his chest and abdomen. Steve clamped his hands over the wounds and glanced toward the living room window. Through the glass, he saw a silhouette moving with incredible speed across a distant ridge.

Steve wanted to give chase, but if he left, Fury would bleed out in seconds. Between the mission and a life, Steve chose the life. He dragged Fury into the kitchen and grabbed a first-aid kit, frantically applying pressure and calling for help.

Suddenly, as if in a final burst of clarity, Fury grabbed Steve's arm with surprising strength. His lips moved. Steve leaned in.

"Don't... trust... anyone," Fury rasped. "Especially not... SHIELD."

His grip went slack. Fury's eyes closed as he drifted into unconsciousness.

Don't trust anyone. Especially SHIELD.

Steve's jaw tightened. The situation was worse than he thought. An assassination ordered from within the agency?

Fury was the Director. What kind of mole could operate right under his nose and grow powerful enough to do this?

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