Just as Coulson relaxed his guard and was about to handcuff the Taskmaster, the Taskmaster, who was kneeling on the ground, moved.
The legs that had been hit by bullets suddenly exerted force as if they were fine. He stood up abruptly and punched Coulson on the helmet. Before Coulson could react, the Taskmaster snatched the rifle from Coulson's hand, then kicked him away with a flying kick, and raised the gun to shoot the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who hadn't reacted yet.
After emptying the rifle, he casually threw it on the ground and quickly left the scene.
Along the way, the Taskmaster didn't see a single one of the black-clad men he brought with him. He figured they were all finished.
With S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at the doorstep, the black-clad men guarding the entrance outside must have been dealt with in advance.
However, the Taskmaster didn't care about this. He felt no sadness about these black-clad men, whom he had trained, now being dead or captured.
Being captured or killed only proved that their martial arts were not good enough; they had no one to blame.
As for the possibility of captured individuals leaking secrets, the Taskmaster didn't worry about that either.
Bai Qi had long since placed restrictions on these black-clad men. If they were to say anything they shouldn't, the restrictions would activate, and these people would instantly turn into mobile bombs.
To save his own life, Bai Qi was confident that these people's mouths would be very tight.
However, Bai Qi didn't know what chain reaction his request for the Taskmaster to retrieve half of Anka from the museum's VIP counter would cause.
In a certain ancient castle in Europe, the long-sleeping vampire Dracula suddenly woke up from his dream, his scarlet eyes peering into the world.
After a long while, he spoke faintly, "Anka has appeared."
Then, with a wave of his hand, streaks of dark energy surged from his wide black robe, forming ugly, black-furred, pointy-eared blood thralls on the ground.
"Go, bring Anka back to me."
Perhaps in the not-too-distant future, Dracula would realize what he was truly up against.
Beneath a tomb in Egypt, a group of people in exploration suits were running desperately through a narrow tomb passage, and behind them, a giant stone ball, almost filling the entire passage, was relentlessly in pursuit.
"Unlucky, unlucky, unlucky..."
Chen Long, carrying his father on his back, felt his legs moving at lightning speed.
There was no other way. There were too many traps and mechanisms in the tomb, and a single mistake could lead to a deadly end. Constant running was the key to survival. For Chen Long, who often went on archaeological digs, this was a common occurrence, but his father couldn't manage it. With old bones, how could he run?
Helplessly, Chen Long had to carry his father and push forward under a heavy load.
Finally, after running for an unknown amount of time in the dark and narrow tomb passage, the sharp-eyed Chen Long spotted a small door on the tomb wall not far away.
At this moment, Chen Long didn't care about anything else. He quickened his pace, made a sharp turn, and darted through the door. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents behind him followed suit to take cover.
BOOM!
Just as everyone was about to enter the door, the rolling boulder behind them suddenly accelerated. One agent who couldn't make it in time was caught by the boulder and instantly crushed into a pulp. The boulder then stopped at the entrance, completely blocking the tomb door.
Hill glanced at the blocked tomb door and the blood-stained boulder, sighing helplessly, and said, "Let's keep moving."
Since entering the tomb, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had suffered considerable losses due to the constant and ever-changing tomb mechanisms. Hill could do nothing about it.
Having chosen to be an agent, they had long ago put their lives aside. Moreover, having come this far, there was no turning back. They could only move forward.
Pulling her gaze away from the boulder, she looked back at the tomb chamber they were currently in.
This tomb chamber was not large, only about half the size of a football field, but that wasn't the point. The key was that the walls were covered with numerous ancient Egyptian carvings and patterns.
Although these S.H.I.E.L.D. agents possessed a wealth of knowledge, ancient Egyptian writing was simply not within their area of expertise.
"Mr. Chen, what do these drawings on the wall mean? Mr. Chen?"
Seeing that there was no response for a long time, the agent who asked the question began to search. He turned his head and saw Chen Long intently looking at the text on the wall behind him.
Seeing how engrossed Chen Long was, the agent didn't say anything further. However, compared to the obscure and difficult-to-understand text, other things in the tomb chamber caught the agents' attention, namely the mummies.
Hill walked up to a mummy and bent down to examine it.
It was fine not to look, but upon doing so, her brows furrowed.
The mummies had very strange appearances, with their limbs bent backward as if they had been forcefully broken by something.
Such damage to the body should have caused extreme pain, yet the facial expressions of this mummy, and several other mummies, were either in a state of frenzy or extreme enjoyment, showing no signs of pain.
But just as Hill was about to conduct a further examination, Chen Long's voice sounded in her ear.
It turned out that an agent was curious about the pile of stone jars in the corner and picked one up to examine, thinking it might contain some priceless burial artifact.
However, he was reprimanded by Chen Long.
As someone who frequently entered tombs, Chen Long naturally knew what could and couldn't be touched. Taking the wrong thing could lead to a very unpleasant death.
However, this agent clearly didn't take it seriously.
After all, they were all fully armored, and even if the jar contained some virus or the like, the filtration device on their faces could block it. Therefore, despite Chen Long's obstruction, the agent didn't pay much attention. He even opened the lid of the jar, wanting to see what was inside.
Seeing that the other party wasn't listening to him, Chen Long stepped forward and snatched the half-opened jar, re-covering the lid.
The agent was about to say that Chen Long was making a fuss over nothing when Hill's reprimanding voice came from behind him, "Wilson, this is not the surface. One wrong move could cost us our lives. Mr. Chen is an expert in this field."
But even though Chen Long closed the lid as quickly as possible, it was still too late.
The moment the agent opened the jar, rice-sized insects flew out, scattering throughout the tomb chamber.
One of them landed on the clothes of an agent not far away.
It was quite a coincidence that the agent's clothes had been torn by a tomb-defending arrow in the previous chamber. However, seeing that the arrow was not poisoned, the agent had not paid much attention. After disinfecting the wound with alcohol, he had simply bandaged it.
This now presented a problem.
This rice-sized insect crawled up the agent's clothes and, through the tear, burrowed inside.
Oh dear!