Chapter 143: You Are Too Weak

Since birth, Steve had always done what he believed was right. He acted with conviction, honoring both himself and his country. Yet the price he paid was that the woman he loved spent her days yearning for him. He could never repay the guilt that weighed on his heart.

Steve himself wasn’t sure what more he could do now. Perhaps all he could offer was to safeguard the agency Peggy had founded—the Shield—and dedicate his strength to protecting his homeland. With this resolve, Steve found himself outside the villa.

“Steve Rogers, are you leaving?” Sharon Carter, Peggy’s niece, called out as she saw him step outside.

“Yeah, but I’m not really in the mood right now,” Steve replied.

“Then next time you come by, I’ll tell you why I’m still alive,” she said.

Steve exchanged a few words with Peggy’s niece before departing. To continue defending the Shield and ensure its survival, he needed to retrain his body. After being frozen beneath an iceberg for so many years, his strength had grown rusty.

So Steve chose to return to training. If another chance presented itself, he vowed to find a way to make amends to Peggy.

What Steve hadn’t anticipated was that just a few days later, he would see Sharon Carter again. She had been sent by Nick Fury to help him navigate the modern world. Knowing it was Fury’s arrangement left Steve somewhat speechless. Yet through Sharon, he could better understand Peggy’s situation, so he didn’t refuse or request a replacement.

Within just over a week, Steve gained a clearer picture of modern-day New York’s shifting landscape and its notable figures. The deeper he got to know Tony Stark, the worse his impression became. Being Howard Stark’s son didn’t justify Tony’s actions in Steve’s eyes.

One day, as usual, Steve sat quietly in a café not far from Stark Tower, sipping coffee. Suddenly, a figure clad in gleaming gold and red streaked across the sky.

“Always hiding inside an iron suit, too afraid to face people. Honestly, ‘Tin Can Man’ suits you better than ‘Iron Man,’” Steve scoffed at the flying figure.

Though the distance was several dozen meters, far enough that the other shouldn’t hear him, Steve noticed Tony abruptly halt his flight, hovering directly above him.

“You’re an old relic who doesn’t understand the allure of technology—I get that,” Tony said, looking down at Steve with disdain. “But I never thought you’d be so foolish as to be a frog in a well, unaware of your own ignorance.”

“Since you know who I am,” Steve’s face darkened, “didn’t your father teach you about respect?”

“For someone trying to act all high and mighty in front of me? You’re not worthy of my respect,” Steve retorted.

Tony sneered coldly. “Am I wrong? Hiding inside that metal box all day, making such a show of yourself. Afraid no one will notice you built a big tin can?”

Steve, seeing this younger man—almost like a nephew to him—so lacking in respect, shot back with a mocking tone, “You know nothing about me. Don’t parade your ignorance around like it’s something to be proud of.”

Tony’s face darkened further, voice sharp. “You’re reacting pretty strongly. Seems I hit a nerve.”

“Knowing you is easy—Howard Stark’s son, New York’s playboy,” Tony continued. “After building your big tin can, you hide behind it, always flaunting this external power…”

Steve sensed Tony’s anger rising. As he spread his hands to speak, before he could finish, he suddenly felt himself grabbed and lifted high into the air, then thrown aside.

The abruptness jolted Steve, but he quickly reacted, adjusting his body to absorb the impact and landed on an empty rooftop. Rising swiftly into a combat stance, he saw Tony in his armored suit hovering above.

“You think relying on an iron suit is external power,” Tony said coldly, towering over Steve. “But as far as I know, before you were injected with the super serum, you were just an ordinary man.”

“Only after the serum did you gain strength beyond normal limits, becoming a symbol of an era,” Tony added. “My technology comes solely from my intellect, while your super serum was made by others. Frankly, your strength isn’t yours but the product of someone else’s genius.”

“What right do you have to say I rely on external power?” he demanded.

“I earned this power risking my life,” Steve shot back. “Physical strength is different from mechanical aid.”

Tony’s words stung. “I never thought your weakness was a problem because you’re willing to sacrifice for your country—a true hero. But now I see you’re just an arrogant hypocrite, blind to your own frailty.”

“I have nothing more to say to someone like you,” Steve replied.

Tony, hearing Steve insult his technology and call him foolishly unaware, suddenly seemed less angry and said, “I’ll leave you to stew in your ignorance.” Then he flew away.

Steve wasn’t even a frog—he was an ant, a tiny creature who fancied himself mighty, critiquing others. What was the point in fighting with an ant?

Watching Tony’s departure, Steve couldn’t shake the words from his mind: “You’re unaware of your own weakness?”

He had the potential of a peak human, able to run thirty meters per second. His body was incredibly resilient—bullets barely grazed him, leaving only minor scratches. His healing was remarkable, needing no medicine to recover. He possessed tremendous stamina, able to fight all day without fatigue. His speed and explosive power were astonishing; he could sprint twenty-six meters in a single second, wielding strength of two tons. Alone, he could easily take down a well-trained squad of dozens. With his shield, he could hold off hundreds, charging through artillery without hesitation.

Though decades had passed, Steve knew that in this peaceful modern era, ordinary people’s physical fitness had declined rather than improved. In this world, he was a living superhuman.

Yet this Howard Stark’s son dared call him weak? The thought was almost laughable.