Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman

Chapter 354: Chapter 354 — The Jet That Came to Pick Them Up

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Even though the companions trapped inside the base had told her to run—and the man beside her had actually taken her and run—Barbara still couldn’t get over it. All the way along, she kept chatting idly with Henry, trying to work through it in her own head.

At the end of the day, that much-touted American mantra—”Not a single soldier left behind”—had been drilled deep into people’s hearts through years of propaganda.

Even in movies, it was almost always portrayed as live together, die together, and treated as something noble.

That kind of social atmosphere did have its uses. It made a lot of selfish people hesitate before choosing to abandon others when faced with a hard decision.

But it also created plenty of brainwashed idiots who insisted on staying behind and dragging everyone down with them. What should have been a simple escape, a survivable checkpoint, got twisted into a life-or-death situation—and in the end, both people paid the price together.

Humans, after all, are mostly selfish. Without that kind of cultural pressure, the number of people who’d abandon their companions would probably far exceed those willing to stay behind.

Once even one person ran, it was easy for panic to spread, dragging the weak-willed along and turning everything into a total collapse.

But Henry was different.

If he told someone to run, he genuinely meant it. He wanted them gone—fast. As for whoever stayed behind? Kill them if necessary, wipe them out cleanly, and move on. No psychological burden at all.

Even if he didn’t silence them permanently, Henry had plenty of options: run, fly, vanish. If a companion stubbornly insisted on staying and restricted what he could do, that was just plain nonsense.

Of course, Henry knew his situation was special. It didn’t apply to normal people, much less to American society as a whole.

And he wasn’t worried about whether Nick Fury could get out alive.

Would the addition of Henry as a variable somehow prevent Fury from ever losing an eye to a Flerken, instead getting himself killed at the Pegasus Project base?

The key point was who was with Fury.

Vers. A member of the Kree Starforce. The future Captain Marvel.

Even with the Kree limiter still in place, that photon blast alone was more than enough to crush Earth’s conventional military forces.

With that woman acting as his bodyguard, Fury would have to try to die.

Unless, of course, the two of them completely failed to get along.

But given the smooth, flexible personality of the future Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., soothing a confused alien warrior wasn’t exactly a challenge.

Right now, Nick Fury was much like Phil Coulson would later be in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

A spy who won people over with sincerity. Professional without being rigid, humorous without being flippant—someone it was genuinely hard to dislike.

To be honest, if Henry didn’t already know what kind of person this ”motherfucker hero” would become, along with all the tangled consequences surrounding him, Henry might have agreed that working under him wouldn’t be a bad choice.

At least you’d have a boss overhead to block the wind and rain, while you just focused on doing your job. For many people, that was extremely appealing. That was leadership charisma, plain and simple.

And for example—when circumstances allowed—the man would even fly a jet out personally to pick people up...

Watching a silver-white, compact twin-engine experimental jet descend vertically in front of him, Henry pulled the car to a stop.

The rear hatch of the Quadjet opened, and Nick Fury appeared, holding an orange cat in his arms and waving at them.

”Hop on,” Fury called. ”You don’t seriously plan on outrunning pursuit in that piece of junk, do you?”

Barbara, sitting in the passenger seat, didn’t say a word—but the eager look in her eyes completely gave her away.

Henry didn’t hesitate much over whether to go or not.

If he went, there was a chance to meet Talos, the Skrull general—the same one who had previously used Director Keller to dispatch S.H.I.E.L.D. agents against him and Barbara.

Henry had been planning to dig information out of the Skrulls anyway. Facing their big boss directly—and doing so beside Captain Marvel, whom they needed—meant at least having a chance to talk.

It also reduced the odds that Henry’s involvement would force the Skrulls to abandon their recruitment strategy and switch straight to brute force.

More importantly, it was an opportunity to test exactly what kind of relationship existed between Kryptonians and Skrulls.

If things really escalated, that would only prove that Kryptonians were considered a higher-priority threat than the Skrulls’ original objective.

And according to Henry’s memories from before his transmigration, Talos was ultimately just trying to find his family, hidden aboard a Kree scientist’s ship.

If he was willing to throw his family away just to kill a Kryptonian, then Henry would have to seriously consider retreating to Alaska and living in seclusion.

Just what in the hell had Kryptonians done, to make every other alien race want them dead on sight? Would the Kree act the same way?

To figure all that out, Henry nodded to Barbara and pulled the car over to the roadside.

The two of them opened their doors and got out. Barbara immediately stormed forward, angrily complaining to Fury, while Henry opened the rear door and let Katie out to follow him.

Walking with a tiger pressed close to your leg carried an undeniable sense of presence. Anyone who saw it would feel a twinge of envy.

At first, Nick Fury holding an orange cat hadn’t been without intent—there was definitely a ”cute versus fierce” angle to it.

But once he saw Henry approaching with Katie at his side, Fury instantly felt that the cat in his arms had lost all appeal.

Animals might not speak human language, but they were extremely sensitive to human emotions. The moment Fury’s mood shifted, the orange cat in his arms began baring its teeth and struggling.

Fury wasn’t careful enough, and the cat wriggled free.

Seeing that it was heading into the plane rather than running away, Fury didn’t bother chasing it. Instead, he joked:

”Uh... Katie won’t eat my dumb goose, will she?”

”A cat named Goose?” Henry stared at him. ”You serious?”

”Hey, the name was given by the little guy’s owner—it’s on the collar. I can’t just change it on a whim. What, you want me to call it Chewie instead?”

...Wow. That mouth of yours—did Stan Lee personally bless it or something? You actually know the cat’s comic name.

Henry gave Fury a very strange look.

Fury, now feeling awkward himself, quickly stepped aside and gestured with his expression: Well? You getting on or not?

It had to be said—when a black man widened his eyes, the contrast made the expression especially vivid.

Henry boarded the experimental twin-engine jet with Katie in tow.

The future Quinjet, which would later become standard S.H.I.E.L.D. equipment, was essentially an enhanced helicopter: vertical takeoff and landing, troop and cargo transport, combined with jet-level speed.

The Quadjet, as an experimental predecessor, already resembled the future Quinjet in overall layout, though it was somewhat larger in size.

As for the interior details—starting from the moment he stepped aboard, Henry began a comprehensive scan.

After all, he still had the blueprints for the Iowa-class battleship USS Missouri, post-modernization, tucked away in his mind. Military-grade hardware like the Quadjet wasn’t something you could just find in a library or university archive.

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