After personally experiencing the power of magic, Nick considered it and finally approved Coulson's mission request.
Coulson, bruised and battered, led two teams directly to the Arctic Circle, specifically searching the area between the Greenland Sea and the Barents Sea.
The Tesseract was discovered in this region, and Coulson believed that Rogers and the Tesseract should be in different ice layers within the same sea area.
The moment they boarded the plane and officially departed, the entire prime timeline experienced a tremor.
The immense tidal energy generated entered Xie Huiming's body through the interaction of information.
Xie Huiming looked into the future; in the original timeline, Rogers was discovered due to global warming thinning the ice and advancements in polar exploration technology.
Now, with Coulson's strong intervention, Rogers' discovery time would inevitably be earlier than the predetermined point.
This change in a critical time point brought Xie Huiming the largest surge of energy since he came to this World.
Blessings and misfortunes are intertwined; while gaining a large amount of energy, Xie Huiming also attracted the attention of the Ancient One.
The Sorcerer Supreme had attempted to traverse countless timelines; she had even seen a future where Rogers was trapped and died under the ice.
But such a clear timeline tremor and biased collapse would still make her more vigilant.
Furthermore, Xie Huiming was not worried that the Ancient One would forcibly revert the timeline, because the change had already occurred, and the tremor had already appeared.
Returning to the original timeline would not reset everything to Zero; instead, it would generate two equally large amounts of energy, and Xie Huiming would directly win big.
Unfortunately, besides paying more attention to important time anchor personnel, the Ancient One did not take any action, which was also related to her main energy still being focused on Dormammu and other dimensional demon gods.
Therefore, to avoid attracting more attention, Xie Huiming decided to temporarily avoid her sharp edge.
He shifted his gaze away from Washington D.C. and directed it towards New York.
There was a famous area there.
It was one of the areas in New York City with more drastic future changes, and also an area rarely touched by the monk-mages of the New York Sanctum.
That is, Hell's Kitchen.
Located in the western part of Manhattan, New York, it covers an area of approximately 2.7 square kilometers.
It has three main districts: the North District, the Central District, and the Riverside District.
The internal forces are extremely chaotic, with the Irish Mob, Mexican cartels, the Russian Brotherhood, The Hand, the Pure Heart Society, Kingpin's underground empire, and other forces intertwined here, with no one gaining absolute upper hand.
But if one were to speak of a relative advantage, it could only be the Kingpin Group, which occupies nearly fifty percent of Hell's Kitchen's space, though unfortunately, it has not brought all key areas like the dock district under its control.
West Fiftieth Street.
This is one of the intersection areas for the Irish Mob, the Russian Brotherhood, and the Kingpin Group.
It is currently under the control of the Irish Mob, whose initial business was various types of smuggling and underground entertainment facilities, such as underground boxing rings.
Passing through the large door guarded by two armed security personnel, one could enter this crowded underground boxing ring.
This was not a high-class establishment; the interior was filled with smoke, and even fully operating ventilation systems could not completely disperse it.
Beneath the clamor, red-eyed gamblers shouted loudly at the ring, vigorously waving their betting slips, much like glow sticks at a nightclub.
On the stage, the host held a microphone, warming up the crowd, while behind him, cleaning staff were wiping blood from the ring.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Next up is a free show! Let's welcome Iron Fist Jack to begin his performance!”
Following the host's voice, a burly man walked onto the stage from the left, his muscles bulging, his fists covered in calluses, and a scar running horizontally across his face from left to right.
“His performance tool is... a debt-ridden illegal immigrant!”
On the right side of the stage, a man, not even 1.8 meters tall, thin, and with a terrified expression, was forcibly pushed onto the stage.
“The great Mister Danny has promised that if he can last more than two rounds, his debt of five hundred thousand will be completely cleared!”
The man frantically waved his hands, “I didn't, I only borrowed fifty thousand!”
The cheers from below drowned out his protests; no one here cared how much he originally borrowed.
Jack cracked his neck, “Kid, I'll make your death quick. What's your name? We need a name on the urn, after all.”
“Mondo, Mondo Caslan, sir, help me, I don't want to die.”
Mondo kept retreating, but the ring behind him had already firmly blocked him.
Jack approached with a sneer; a warm-up before the official match would help his performance.
“Relax, it won't hurt much!”
With that, a punch whistled through the air.
A powerful hook punch sent Mondo crashing to the ground, half of his face sunken in, and blood-stained teeth flying out.
Jack showed no mercy, rushing forward, grabbing Mondo's collar, and delivering another uppercut.
Lying on the ground again, Mondo's eyes were blurry, his entire face covered in blood, barely breathing.
As stated at the beginning, this was just a warm-up act between boxing matches, and Mondo's collapse was not unexpected by anyone.
Facing a helpless piece of trash, Jack had no intention of continuing; he simply kicked him off the stage, then turned, raised his hands, and accepted the cheers of the crowd.
Under the dim stage, the half-dead Mondo was dragged away and casually tossed into a corner of the storage room.
As for a Doctor, to heal injuries like these would cost more money than he owed.
Based on experience, the cleaner judged that this guy would absolutely not live for more than ten minutes and would be cleaned up later.
Ten minutes passed.
Mondo was still struggling on the brink of death, mumbling incoherent words, which, when pieced together, could be heard as,
“Doctor... Doctor... Mondo needs... a Doctor...”
There was definitely no Doctor, but there was a whisper from beyond the World.
“What are you willing to give to live?”
“Everything, all of me.”
“As you wish.”
A surge of power injected itself, completely activating Mondo's body and tearing apart his sanity. His already severely damaged brain was deemed a burden by his body, and two-thirds of it vanished in an instant.
In its place were muscles that bulged to the point of explosion, and flesh and blood that began to deform internally.
His body arched, his bones began to stretch, and his form rapidly expanded; the 1.7-meter short man was transforming into a superhuman physique.
Under the collision of cell against cell, the outer skin took on a severely bruised purple color, making Mondo even more ugly and terrifying.
Another twenty minutes passed, and the violent changes subsided slightly.
Mondo had become a 2.5-meter-tall giant.
“Mondo cured himself... Mondo is a Doctor!”
Emitting a low, insane sound, Mondo stood up, his eyes gleaming with the light of “wisdom.”
