Marvel Disassembler

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Figuring out someone's identity isn't particularly difficult.

The hardest thing in the world, perhaps, is completely erasing a person's identity and traces.

Especially in today's age, where information is readily available everywhere. Even if someone has vast resources and power, trying to completely erase a person's existence is impossible. There are always those determined enough to use various methods to uncover traces from hidden corners.

Arthur, clearly, is one of those determined individuals.

Through Natasha, Tony, and their vast network and database, and with the help of SHIELD's systems, Arthur quickly obtained a name:

Victor Clark!

His birthplace, date of birth, and background... a complete set of records.

He was also a genius, having earned a doctorate in neurobiology at the age of twenty.

Moreover, he deeply researched and advanced brain science, not only gaining a detailed understanding of brain structure and function, but also proposing numerous possibilities. He even published several books on related knowledge.

However, his records for the following three years were utterly mundane, and he appeared to have faded into obscurity.

Then, skipping over these three years, he died...

He died in a car accident.

But looking at Victor now, who was missing a hand, Arthur couldn't see any trace of a car accident on him, except for the wound Arthur had inflicted. There was no sign of a crash.

"So, this means, you had already come into contact with Hydra at the age of twenty? And the reason those three years were uneventful was simply to set the stage for your 'death'?"

Arthur's tone was calm, as if he were being very approachable.

Victor, however, remained silent. The wound on his hand had been carefully bandaged by Arthur, and though some blood seeped through, it didn't seem to matter... of course, if he ever tried to use his right hand to grab a gun or shoot, that would likely be very difficult.

"It's okay, you don't have to speak," Arthur said. "I know, getting people like you to talk is tough, and I'm not a professional interrogator. If I wanted to get something useful out of you, I'd admit I'm a little unskilled. But it's alright... I don't just have you as a card. You know, the person in the basement, once he recovers his memory, he would probably know as much as you do."

"He doesn't know much." Victor turned his gaze to Arthur after hearing this and said. "He's just a weapon, a tool!"

"So, you're the one using the weapon?" Arthur smiled. "Actually, I'm quite curious. Why don't we have a little chat? According to Hydra's style of casting a wide net, a special talent like you shouldn't be 'dead,' right? Instead, you should be placed in a position where you can use your expertise, progress further, and gain more influence. But why did you accept the 'death' arrangement?"

Victor closed his eyes, refusing to cooperate.

Arthur sighed. "This attitude is truly disappointing."

He stood up and said, "But it's alright. We still have time... I might bring a friend soon and you two can have a proper chat."

After saying that, Arthur put Victor away.

As he had mentioned, Arthur wasn't a professional interrogator. With a calm attitude, he had a few casual conversations with Victor. If he could get something useful, that would be great. If not, it was just a waste of some time, which wasn't a big deal.

Carrying the prepared food, Arthur went to the basement to the cells.

When Bucky heard the footsteps, he opened his eyes, glanced at Arthur, then closed them again.

Arthur was a bit speechless. "What's with Hydra? Are you a terrorist organization or some kind of sect? All you do all day is sit around with your eyes closed... Are you planning to ascend to the ninth heaven one day and come back to take revenge on me or something?"

Bucky furrowed his brow, feeling that this person's words were rather nonsensical.

'What the hell does this mean?'

When Arthur brought the food into the room, he was still thinking about the fact that although Harry had built such a huge prison here, its practicality was actually quite low.

With so many cells, not to mention whether they could be filled, even if they were full, who would cook for them?

This place was so hidden that hiring ordinary people would be seen as absolutely unreliable. Was Arthur expected to cook for them by himself?

Never mind whether Arthur would tire himself out, even his cooking skills weren't exactly presentable. This was evident from Bucky's increasingly emaciated appearance.

Arthur himself felt that the food he made was barely edible, let alone something he'd want to eat.

And yet, Bucky ate every meal cleanly. How hungry must he have been?

After delivering the food, Arthur also brought in a tablet. The cell was equipped with a television, clearly a "premium" version of a cell— move-in ready, no furniture needed.

The TV was showing videos that had been sourced from the memorial, depicting Steve from back in the day.

None of these videos featured Arthur's image... This country never acknowledged his existence, so how could it offer any hope or recognition? All that was left was idle gossip, the sort people discuss at the dinner table.

Arthur played these videos to provoke some reaction from Bucky.

But over time, while the intended stimulation might not have worked, the hypnotic effect was certainly present, making Bucky fall into a constant state of drowsiness. So it seemed that the reason Bucky always had his eyes closed wasn't some spiritual training, after all.

Bucky picked up the tablet and turned it on. Arthur's voice immediately followed: "Right now, everything outside is alright. All the pests are lying low, just like squirrels storing food for the winter. A peaceful world like this... is really hard to understand."

The tablet had no system or internet connection, just a few pre-recorded news videos to pass the time.

Arthur didn't want him to become disconnected from the world, especially since he'd be taken out for battle eventually. After all, Bucky wasn't a real criminal, so Arthur took extra care of him.

Bucky ate while watching the news, and it seemed that the only way the unappetizing food could become tolerable was with something to distract him.

However, as he ate, his expression suddenly froze, and he pressed his lips together: "The King of Decapitation."

(End of Chapter)