American comic book: An aging Wolverine, doing whatever he wants.

Chapter 19: S.H.I.E.L.D. is here too? Black Widow Natasha!

New York, Logan never imagined he would return to this city in his lifetime.

He had too many memories of this place: Xavier's School for the Gifted, X-Men, Scott, Jean, Beast, familiar streets, and the faces of old friends floated into his mind.

Returning to this city now fills him with mixed emotions, but he also worries about being recognized, since his old photo is still on his wanted poster, and those guys have a nose as sharp as a dog.

Fortunately, the Lawrence family had made ample preparations for this mission, clearing all obstacles and entering New York City smoothly without encountering any checks.

"Big cities are just different."

In the driver's seat, Samuel gazed in awe at New York City.

This mission was not a solo mission for Logan; he reunited with the previous team. In addition to Samuel driving and Logan in the passenger seat, Conrad and Josh were also in the back seat.

As one of the world's four major financial centers, New York's prosperity is self-evident. Skyscrapers stand tall, and the bustling streets are filled with successful people in suits. Luxury cars and sports cars are everywhere on the main roads, and there are countless luxury boutiques. It seems that the air is filled with the smell of money.

They entered New York at dusk, when the streets were bustling with activity, and the Avengers' influence was stronger than ever before.

Avengers posters are constantly scrolling on the large screens in major shopping districts, and Avengers merchandise is displayed everywhere on the screens.

Posters of Captain America holding a vibranium shield are plastered all over the streets and alleys, children are happily hugging Hulk dolls, Iron Man's sci-fi helmet, Thor's hammer toys, and so on.

The Avengers took over the entire New York market.

Logan's gaze swept across the toy shops, his eyes gradually dimming.

In the vast city of New York, there is no trace of the X-Men.

But should he be thankful?

After all, that way no one will recognize you.

At the crossroads, Logan looked at the large screen on the building next to him, which was displaying a huge Avengers "family portrait" poster.

Passersby would often stop to watch and tell their children about the Avengers' exploits.

Logan watched this scene with a mix of emotions.

With the Battle of New York in 2012 just over, the Avengers became household names, and public adoration for them reached its peak.

"They're really living the high life."

Samuel, a cigarette dangling from his lips and the steering wheel in hand, waited for the countdown at the traffic light. His eyes scanned the interface filled with Avengers elements, and he couldn't help but sigh, "The Battle of New York may have made them, but the cost was also high. Many civilians suffered greatly in this war. My cousin lives here, and he watched as the Hulk smashed his car, which he had bought with a loan years ago."

Josh, sitting in the back seat, suddenly interjected, "He should probably be thankful he wasn't smashed into a pulp."

Logan shrugged. "You can't expect those alien monsters to start a war with us in the Sahara Desert. You can't have your cake and eat it too. If you want to protect Earth, some unavoidable destruction is inevitable."

Superheroes want to save the Earth, so naturally there will be some costs that no one wants to see.

Samuel, smoking a cigarette, turned to Logan. "You've never been a superhero, how would you know what the Avengers are thinking?"

"Just a guess."

Logan smiled and said nothing more.

As the green light turned on, Samuel started the vehicle and drove all the way to the hotel near New York Harbor.

Compared to the bustling skyscrapers of the city center, this suburb near the port is not so glamorous.

The streets are no longer flat and smooth. Every day, a large number of heavy trucks carrying goods come and go, and the roads are inevitably worn into some potholes.

The people coming and going were no longer the elites in suits and ties; most of them were construction workers and port workers wearing white t-shirts and yellow hard hats.

Logan and his group booked rooms at the hotel.

The accommodation here is very cheap, but the environment is naturally not very good. The small room can only fit a bed, and the shower in the toilet does not even provide hot water. Logan guessed that there might still be sweat left by the previous guest on the sheets.

These budget hotels primarily cater to dockworkers or travelers about to disembark from ships and stay overnight. If the prices were too high, these people would likely prefer to sleep on the streets.

Although they had booked a room, Logan and his companions had no intention of resting.

It was already evening, and the sky was gradually darkening. Their mission was to continue into the night, so there was no time for them to rest.

The four of them squeezed into one room. Conrad threw his travel bag on the sheets, and when he opened it, it was full of weapons, including pistols, silencers, spare magazines, and knives.

The four men each took out a pistol, attached a silencer, tested the guns, and loaded bullets into the magazines.

"It's 7:30 p.m. now. We'll be leaving at 9 p.m. The port will be closed at that time, and there won't be anyone specifically guarding the containers, but patrol teams will pass by from time to time."

As Logan loaded his bullets, he explained the mission details: "Be extremely careful not to be spotted by the patrols. Otherwise, if they call the police, the cops and guards can surround the entire port within ten minutes. At that point, our only escape route will be the sea behind the port."

As he spoke, Logan glanced at Conrad.

This guy remained silent after setting off, barely saying a word from Santa Fe to New York, and no longer refuting any of Logan's statements.

Clearly, after the last incident, this guy has learned his lesson and at least doesn't dare to openly oppose Logan.

"The goal this time is very clear."

Logan loaded the magazine into his pistol and said in a deep voice, "Chris wants us to find container number 79. The two boxes inside, numbered BU-26 and BU-27, are our targets. Remember, handle them with care. They most likely contain priceless porcelain or other antiques. In short, they are very valuable."

Although Chris said there were antiques inside, Logan didn't actually believe him completely.

His intuition told him that this shipment was a hundred times more important than any so-called antique!

Samuel and his two companions nodded, tidied up their equipment, and then took out some compressed biscuits and water from their backpacks to replenish their energy.

As night falls, a gentle breeze blows through the harbor, carrying the salty scent of the sea. The moisture in the air is incomparable to that of the desert region of San Antonio.

Logan and his group changed into black clothes to blend into the night, drove around the port several times to determine their escape route, and then parked their car in a nearby parking lot before walking towards the port.

The port was now closed, surrounded by a three-meter-high fence. The roads leading into the port were also blocked off with poles, and guards with batons stood watch on both sides of the poles.

However, this obstacle was no problem for Logan and his group. They groped their way to a fence in the corner, easily climbed over it, and entered the port.

What comes into view is a huge pile of shipping containers, with containers of various colors neatly stacked here, stretching as far as the eye can see.

"My God, when will we ever find this!"

Samuel looked at the shipping containers scattered all over the floor and felt a headache coming on.

Logan crouched down, cautiously looking around, and whispered, "They're all arranged in order. Once you find the order, you'll find them quickly."

After saying that, Logan carefully walked towards the containers, checked the numbers on them, quickly figured out the numbers on the containers, and walked towards his target according to the numbers.

They did encounter patrol personnel a few times during this period, but these patrol personnel did not conduct a thorough search. They simply strolled around the container cluster with flashlights, and Logan and his group would hide behind the containers whenever they saw lights, without attracting any attention.

After a series of unfortunate events, the four finally found their target container, number seventy-nine.

"This is it!"

Samuel eagerly pulled a small pair of pliers from his back. "The sooner we get it, the sooner we can go back and rest. If we go back now, we might even be able to have a couple of drinks at the bar downstairs in the hotel."

As he spoke, he was about to break the lock on the container.

"etc!"

Logan suddenly whispered to stop him, putting a finger to his lips, "Shh, someone's coming."

His keen perception allowed him to clearly hear a faint rustling sound approaching.

The three looked around blankly, but heard nothing.

Just as I was about to ask a question, a series of deep footsteps suddenly sounded.

"Damn it! I need to hide!"

Logan glanced around and pointed to two stacked containers opposite container number 79.

The other three understood immediately and quickly climbed onto the container, lying on top.

The height of the two containers is such that you can't see anyone lying on top of them from below.

Soon, the footsteps became clearer and more frequent, sounding like there were quite a few people. More importantly, the people were not using flashlights and were deliberately walking lightly, clearly indicating they were not port guards.

The intrusion of a stranger made Logan frown.

"Rumlow, are you sure it's container number 79?"

A clear, cool female voice rang out.

"Yes, the intelligence indicates this is the place."

She was met with a dull male voice.

Oops!

Logan was startled; the other party was also after container number 79!

To find out the other party's purpose, Logan cautiously peeked out and was stunned when he saw the figure below.

A squad dressed in special operations uniforms surrounded container number 79. The leader was a very charming woman with a beautiful face beneath her dashing orange-red hair. Her black, tight-fitting combat suit perfectly showcased her stunning figure.

Black Widow, Natasha!

Logan recognized the woman immediately, his heart tightened, and he quickly pulled his head back.

"What's wrong?" Samuel noticed Logan's expression was off and quickly asked in a low voice.

Logan frowned and tried to keep his voice down.

"Damn it, they're from S.H.I.E.L.D.!"

(End of this chapter)