Aleksey pressed the chest of the Red Guardian action figure shaped like a five-pointed star. Instantly, a light came on, accompanied by the sound of a charge.
He noticed a pull ring on the back and gave it a tug.
"Red Guardians, advance. The horn is calling."
Hearing the nostalgic voice from the figurine, Aleksey let out a bitter smile. Once upon a time, he had been the hope of the Soviet Union—now, just a prisoner behind bars.
Suddenly, the figurine's head popped off. Aleksey grabbed it and discovered a small device hidden in the neck joint, shaped like an earpiece.
Scanning his surroundings with caution, Aleksey saw that the guards hadn't noticed. He discreetly inserted the earpiece into his ear.
As soon as it was in place, Natasha's voice came through.
"Today's your lucky day, Aleksey."
Meanwhile, John Wick piloted an armed helicopter hovering above the remote Deep Well Prison where Aleksey was being held. Across from him sat Natasha Romanoff and Smith Doyle.
Smith put on a scouter—a device to measure combat power—and tapped it, starting the scan for Aleksey.
He had a theory about the differences in combat styles between the worlds: on Dragon Ball's Earth, any human with a power level above 5 could manipulate qi, even unconsciously, giving them strong defensive and offensive capabilities. In contrast, in the Marvel world, aside from K'un-Lun practitioners, most had no concept of qi—they couldn't sense or use it.
Even the Hand, descended from K'un-Lun, could exhibit terrifying power levels of 40–50 when fully unleashing their inner energy.
Now, Smith wanted to see whether the Red Guardian—considered Russia's answer to Captain America—was any different.
He activated the scouter's x-ray function and scanned for life energy. Numbers started flashing across the lens.
"5… 6… 5… 4… 6… 7… 40."
A reading of 40 popped up, surprising him.
He recalled that the average human limit was 8. The super-soldier serum boosted one's physique to five times the human max—so a power level of 40 made sense.
But that was raw body energy. People like Red Guardian or Captain America didn't know how to use qi, so they relied solely on brute force. In a real fight, even a martial artist with only a 9-point power level who could use qi could outperform them.
Smith confirmed his theory: qi training must not be spread. Otherwise, even someone with thousands of power points would only utilize a fraction, and their destructive force would be laughably low.
Noticing the glowing display on Smith's monocle-like scouter, Natasha asked curiously what it was for. She turned to the digital combat platform and pointed to a blinking dot.
"Aleksey, this is Natasha Romanoff."
She introduced herself clearly, knowing this was years before her identity became public.
"Head to the door on the southern wall."
Aleksey, initially puzzled, suddenly recalled the name. Back when he'd been undercover in the U.S., someone had played the role of his eldest daughter—and her real name had been Natasha Romanoff.
He glanced toward the southern wall. He didn't know why she was helping him, or if this was another one of Dreykov's traps, but he knew one thing: this was his best chance at escape. Without hesitation, he sprang into action.
He put down the figurine and walked toward a nearby guard.
"What's wrong with you?" the guard asked.
"Can't you read? Step back."
CRASH—Aleksey shattered the glass, grabbed the guard's collar, and yanked him through. Another guard rushed in but was knocked out with a single blow.
Natasha's voice came through again:
"Turn left. Try not to make too much noise."
But it was already too late.
WEEOOO WEEOOO—the prison alarms blared loudly.
The other inmates began shouting:
"Red Guardian's making a run for it!"
Dozens of guards swarmed in, shields and batons at the ready. But they were no match for Aleksey. With strength enhanced fivefold beyond normal human limits, he barreled through them like a freight train.
He grabbed a riot shield, wedged it into the prison's gate mechanism, and slammed it shut—trapping the guards inside.
"You made a scene, didn't you?" Natasha asked dryly.
Smith chuckled.
"A scene? The entire prison knows the Red Guardian's breaking out."
Aleksey blasted his way through the inner gates. One last kick knocked down the reinforced exit door, revealing a snowy wasteland beyond. Fences and defensive emplacements ringed the perimeter.
"What now?" Aleksey muttered.
"We'll get you out of there," Natasha replied.
Looking up, Aleksey saw the helicopter hovering overhead.
Smith, eyeing the swarm of incoming guards, glanced at Natasha and said:
"I believe in your plan, but this is too risky. I don't have time to wait. Leave it to me."
With that, he stood, opened the hatch, and leapt out.
Natasha gasped and lunged for the parachute pack.
"You forgot the parachute!"
John Wick spoke calmly:
"The boss doesn't need that kind of baggage."
Natasha leaned out of the chopper just in time to see Smith flying—literally flying—toward Aleksey.
"He can fly?" she whispered, stunned.
John's voice turned solemn.
"I don't know why the boss wants to help you—but just know this: he's God."
"His power is beyond anything you can imagine."
Natasha stared at him. According to her intel, Wick hadn't been with the Assassin's League for long. And yet, he already had such unwavering faith in Smith Doyle—it was practically worship.
Just what kind of power had John Wick witnessed?