Wishbone is also very poor today [Comprehensive British and American]

The master of imitation, Taskmaster, has a real name that doesn't make sense--Anthony Tony Masters, an experienced former mercenary, who has the strange ability to imitate anyone to make any action.

He wears a skull mask that scares children every day and walks around the rivers and lakes. After retiring, he opened a villain training class. Who would have thought that he did not make a name for himself among supervillains, but instead blossomed by imitating the old tree with stunts. The training class turned into a small school, then received sponsorship from various organizations, and finally established a large-scale base.

Up to now, the school does not have any official name. Graduates are not only sent to villain organizations, the FBI, CIA, MI[-], and even S.H.I.E.L.D. are also very willing to accept outstanding talents from the academy.

The purpose of the school is freedom, authenticity, and growth. It has never bothered to instill any values ​​of good and evil. If you are righteous, that is your own ability. If you are crooked, you can only blame yourself for not being a good person.

And Bullock is also the one that is extremely conspicuous among the group of "not good things".

At 03:30 in the afternoon, Building K, a square teaching building with no sense of aesthetic design, classroom 108.

Professor Caliban, a mutant, a famous intelligence dealer, bald, and an albino patient. He taught a course called "The Development Status of Mutants and Introduction to Known S-Class Mutants".

There is a small notebook in front of Bullock's desk. With his calloused hands, he is struggling to record the precious saliva gushing out from Mr. Caliban.

After 10 minutes, he slammed his head on the table—and fell asleep.

Facts have proved that he is not a material for learning, and he is naturally suitable for doing some rough and dirty work in the bloody storm, beheading a few people with a golden sword.

Clint poked Emily, who was sitting next to him, who also didn't listen very carefully, and asked in a low voice, "Is the person sitting in the fourth-to-last row on the right back the same as Rumlow?"

Emily nodded and asked back, "You are?"

Clint stroked his short blond hair, and gave Emily a standard smile showing eight teeth: "I'm the new transfer student, Clint Barton."

"I remember that the college rarely recruits transfer students." Emily was not fooled by his handsome face and sunny smile.

Clint leaned close to her ear and said mysteriously: "Actually, I am an intern agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I came here to investigate the Hydra branch. Don't tell others."

Emily: "..."

Ghosts believe you.

"So you like SHIELD?"

Clint was taken aback, blinked his eyes: "Why do you ask that?"

Emily lowered her head and pretended to pick up a pen to write and draw on the paper, avoiding Caliban's gaze.

"This is normal. Everyone has different ideas. Many people will know some basic information about the organization in advance, so that it will be more convenient for them to submit their resumes during the internship."

Clint persisted: "Is there a Hydra branch here?"

Emily let out a chuckle: "Of course not, the principal is very strict. Recruitment meetings are only organized during the graduation season."

Clint retracted and stretched the old chicken's neck, and the old god often nodded.

After a few days of general understanding, Clint found that there was no difference between the information given by S.H.I.E.L.D. This academy is only responsible for teaching skills, and the instructors are mixed. There are both superheroes and wanted supervillains, and more like Deadpool is purely a mercenary attracted by money.

But the students are relatively innocent, and the overall atmosphere does not advocate getting involved with a group of unclear organizations before graduation, and everyone maintains a superficial balance.

I just don't know if there is any evil Hydra organization operating secretly.

Clint went through the information in his head, and then quietly took the book during the break, and sat down on Bullock's left.

Bullock felt someone approaching in a daze, and his body's intuition took the first step. He narrowed his eyes, and stabbed the other person's temple quickly and accurately with the sharp pen in his hand.

Clint wanted to hide, but abruptly stopped the urge to lean back, and put on a terrified face that was stupefied.

"You... what are you going to do?"

As soon as Bullock opened his eyes, he saw a big face splattered with ink, which looked like a funny Dalmatians. He put down the pen in his hand and asked nonchalantly, "What's the matter?"

Clint wiped his face with his sleeve aggrievedly, and introduced himself enthusiastically: "I'm Clint Barton, a new reporter for the school newspaper, and the section I'm in charge of is called The Secret History of the School," the big boy smiled flatteringly. Laugh, "Can I interview you?"

The secret history of the campus?

The school newspaper section that vowed to discover gossip and entertain the whole school as its mission?

Bullock was overjoyed, but his face remained calm: "Two hundred dollars."

Clint: "What?"

Bullock said without shame: "One question is two hundred dollars."

Clint, who is backed by S.H.I.E.L.D., is rich and powerful. He waved his little hand boldly: "No problem."

"Rumlo!!!" Professor Caliban shouted angrily while standing on the podium.

Bullock: "..." I was so happy to chat that I didn't notice that the class bell had already rung...

Caliban was so angry that his bald head turned into a red egg: "Get the hell out of you and the golden retriever next to you who is laughing like a fool!!!"

Brock then had no choice but to get out of the classroom with Clint in despair.

"Then we'll see you in the cafe at seven o'clock in the afternoon!" Clint patted Bullock on the shoulder friendly.

Let's go back in time to two weeks ago.

Clint just passed the S.H.I.E.L.D. recruiting exam and went through a three-month induction training.

"The director wants to see you." Senior Agent Hill held a stack of documents with a formulaic smile on his face.

"What!? But I..." Clint was at a loss. A trainee agent like him obviously couldn't be favored by the Director.

Hill looked at her watch: "You have 5 minutes to report to the director's office, and don't bring any communication tools with you." She took out a smart chip from her pocket, "This is a pass."

Confused, Clinton stiffly swiped the elevator leading to the director's office with his pass, and carefully pushed open the door of Pierce's office.

"Agent Patton, I have a task for you." Pierce is no longer handsome and handsome, and has been destroyed by the years into a wrinkled old man.

Barton: "I do!"

Pierce was very satisfied with Clint's cooperative attitude. He took out a few thin A4 papers from the drawer and handed them to Clinton: "You should take a look first."

Clint took a few deep breaths, suppressed the excitement and doubts in his heart, displayed his professionalism, and carefully read this highly confidential internal document.

After a few minutes, he put the papers in order and put them back on Pierce's desk.

"finish watching?"

Clinton nodded: "Yes, sir."

Pierce asked kindly: "Then tell me why I chose you to carry out this task?"

Clinton thought for a few seconds, then analyzed: "Because I have just passed the assessment and training, and the file has not yet been included in the S.H.I.E.L.D. database, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents from the academy will not find out that the bureau is investigating the academy."

The college that imitates the master steadily sends talents to major institutions every year, and sending members of the institution as instructors to teach students is the only way the school allows to transfer values, and it is strictly supervised. Every student who graduates from the college has signed a contract A confidentiality agreement with magical effect prevents the leakage of information and materials of the academy.

"Any more?"

Clinton grinned a little shyly: "I am 22 years old, but because I am young and handsome, I look only, suitable for integrating into the college students!"

Pierce: "Ahem, most of what you said is correct, but there are still some information that have not been recorded on paper. I want to tell you personally."

Clint was fully in the mood, his head spinning rapidly, receiving all the information.

Pierce nodded with satisfaction, and continued, "Have you heard of the Red Skull?"

"Captain America's old love... enemy?"

The Red Skull disappeared before the victory of World War II, and after decades of disappearance, there were rumors that he was not dead, but the whole thing was so cloudy that no one really figured it out.

"Nine years ago, the Gotham City Branch once observed traces of the suspected Red Skull. He took a little boy away from Gotham. At that time, there was a lot of trouble in Gotham. Later, they found that there was a student in the academy who fit the bill. The boy's physical features."

"Brock Rumlow, we suspect that he is the illegitimate son of the Red Skull. We hope you can track down the Red Skull through this clue."

Watching Clinton walking out of the office, the young back full of mission, Pierce, who had already been tempered and cunning, began to think about the direction of his next move.

All his details are firmly controlled by Red Skull. Naturally, if you want to investigate Red Skull, you can't use Hydra's undercover agent in S.H.I.E.L.D., nor can you use senior senior agents. Their every move will attract the attention of undercover agents.

Playing the role of a student with the young and bright Barton, getting close to the people around the Red Skull is the most unexpected and most likely to succeed.

Brock Rumlow, what on earth do you have to do with the Red Skull?

Pierce couldn't help but think of another Brock Rumlow—the black-haired doctor who died at his hands 36 years ago, and it all started wrong.

From then on, one wrong step, one step at a time.