Chapter 23: Quicksilver Gets Duped

In the vast expanse of snowy terrain, Quicksilver trudged forward, leading a team of soldiers, his footsteps sinking deep into the snow with each step.

A heavy snowfall had blanketed the area just the day before, piling up to a depth of thirty centimeters. As he walked, Quicksilver couldn't help but curse under his breath.

"F***! If I have to eat another bite of penguin or sea lion meat, I’m gonna throw up!"

It was hard to blame Pietro for his constant complaints—Karl had really pulled a fast one on him.

With nothing but sweet talk and deception, Karl had tricked him into coming to the Arctic, where he now spent his days surrounded by nothing but ice and snow.

Only someone as shameless as Karl could pull off something like this.

Karl’s real intention in sending Quicksilver to the Arctic was to get him out of the way.

At the time, Quicksilver was sticking to his sister, Wanda, like glue, keeping a close eye on Karl to make sure he didn’t try anything funny with his kind and innocent sister.

Left with no other choice, Karl painted a grand, enticing picture and sweet-talked Quicksilver into taking the bait.

And so, Quicksilver had been stuck in the Arctic for over six months, harboring an ever-growing grudge.

Crunch, crunch…

The sound of boots pressing into the thick snow echoed in the frigid silence as Quicksilver and his team moved forward.

With a sigh, he pulled down his windproof mask to take a breath of fresh air, only for the moisture from his breath to instantly crystallize on his face in the freezing cold.

When he first arrived in the Arctic, Quicksilver had been overly confident.

With his super-speed, he figured he could explore the entire Arctic in no time.

But once he was actually here, he quickly realized how naive he had been.

The first challenge was the brutal cold. Even with his enhanced physique, he couldn't withstand the relentless freezing temperatures.

Within days of arriving, he fell sick.

In this desolate, icy wasteland, if not for their ample supplies, Quicksilver might have died from something as simple as hypothermia and fever.

Then, he discovered just how vast the Arctic truly was.

Even with his super-speed, covering the entire region was an impossible task.

As months passed and he still hadn’t found the crash site of the so-called "Old Relic," he started to doubt Karl’s intentions.

Karl had confidently assured him that the wreckage of the world’s first superhero lay somewhere in the Arctic.

But looking back, Quicksilver suspected Karl had merely picked up some random rumor and spun it into a believable tale.

After searching for over a month with no results, Quicksilver had been ready to call it quits.

But at that time, Karl and Wanda’s relationship was in full bloom.

Wanda had grown accustomed to her new life with Karl.

Now that she was someone else’s "little sweetheart," she naturally took Karl’s side.

She even privately urged Quicksilver to keep searching a little longer.

And so, left with no choice, Quicksilver gritted his teeth and continued enduring the hardships of the Arctic while Karl and Wanda enjoyed their cozy little world together.

"Wanda really just ditched her own brother the moment she got a boyfriend… Damn you, Karl! If you dare to—"

Quicksilver stopped in his tracks to take a break, still muttering complaints under his breath.

BOOM!

Just then, a loud crash echoed from the distance.

A Russian-flagged icebreaker seemed to have collided with something, sending a deep, resonating impact through the frozen expanse.

Quicksilver furrowed his brows and turned toward the icebreaker.

Their expedition team was positioned on the edge of the Arctic Ocean. While encountering an icebreaker here was unusual, it wasn’t impossible.

The real issue was that the ship appeared to have struck an iceberg. Its hull was badly damaged, leaving it stranded in place.

Having grown up in war-torn Sokovia, Quicksilver was no saint.

But after spending over six months in this godforsaken wasteland, he was desperate for some human interaction.

His team consisted entirely of cloned soldiers—loyal to his every command but incapable of meaningful conversation.

Of course, Quicksilver had no idea they were clones. He simply assumed all military personnel were just naturally taciturn.

Now, however, he was craving a conversation with normal human beings.

"Plus, they probably have fresh vegetables on board… I haven't seen a single green vegetable in nearly six months!"

His mouth watered at the thought.

Day after day of grilled penguin, sea lion meat, or Arctic shrimp—it had long since lost its appeal.

All his essential vitamins came from supplements. But what he truly wanted was real, fresh greens.

"We're going over there. See if we can trade for some supplies."

He turned to the bearded expedition leader beside him, Levin Cook.

Levin had no reason to object to such a simple request.

"Understood, sir. Unit One, take five men and secure control of the icebreaker!"

Hearing Levin’s order, it became clear that he intended to seize the ship by force.

Quicksilver didn’t bother to argue.

In the Arctic, cash was useless, and online banking wasn’t exactly an option.

If they could take the ship directly, why waste money?

Having lived in poverty for most of his life, Quicksilver wasn’t about to spend a single cent from the "allowance" Karl sent him each month as his so-called exploration salary.

After all, Karl might be an untrustworthy scoundrel, but at least he paid well.

If it weren’t for the hefty sum he received each month, there was no way Quicksilver would still be suffering in the Arctic.

As they advanced toward the icebreaker, a squad of elite expedition soldiers charged ahead.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Vodka-f***!? Sukablyat!"

Gunfire erupted, followed by a few shouted curses in Russian.

By the time Quicksilver and the rest arrived, the advance team had already secured control of the icebreaker.

A soldier, clad in extreme cold-weather gear, stood on the deck, waving a signal to indicate the ship was secure.

Quicksilver felt no sympathy.

After half a year in the Arctic, he was on the verge of losing his mind.

A few casualties? He couldn’t care less.

Just as he was about to board the icebreaker to check their food supplies, his gaze accidentally drifted toward the ship’s bow.

"Huh? What’s that?"

At the point where the ship’s ice-cutting blade had struck the iceberg, something unusual caught his eye—a fragment of a black metal panel peeking through the ice.

He had been about to climb onto the deck but quickly descended the rope ladder back to the ground.

Walking over to the ship’s bow, he inspected the exposed metal surface.

"This… looks like the tail fin of an aircraft?"

His pulse quickened.

Could it be? Had they unintentionally stumbled upon the crash site they had been searching for all along?

"Quick! Get this ice cleared!"

The icebreaker, a Russian deep-sea vessel, was well-equipped for Arctic exploration, with onboard drilling equipment for searching shallow-sea oil reserves.

The expedition team wasted no time.

They rounded up a few experienced drill operators, pressed their guns to the workers' heads, and forced them to get to work.