Chapter 144 Meeting Again

The doctor curled his lip. "He is an obstinate ox. Furthermore, his courage remains to be tested."

"Test his courage? That's simple." The colonel walked behind a truck loaded with training equipment, retrieved a grenade from a crate marked with the word [PROPS], pulled the pin, and roared, "Grenade!"

Then, right in front of Hodge, Steve, and the other recruits who were in the middle of calisthenics, he hurled it toward them.

In military camps, practical training was never in short supply.

For instance, an officer might burst into the barracks in the dead of night and fire shots at the ceiling just to observe the soldiers' reactions.

When the grenade was thrown, every recruit in the squad instinctively realized that in this open terrain, once the grenade detonated, the entire squad would be finished.

Terror froze on every recruit's face.

Each of them was willing to serve their country.

Every single day, they spoke of their willingness to lay down their lives for the nation.

Yet, before the shadow of death, they subconsciously made the most honest judgment.

Some screamed, some turned and fled, others dropped flat on the spot, while Hodge—whom Colonel Phillips had regarded favorably—stumbled and fell to the ground as he tried to run away.

Only a single, scrawny figure rushed directly against the crowd.

Like a pillar holding up a collapsing roof!

Using the frail body that others often likened to a girl's, he threw himself desperately over the grenade. Though he was terrified, his body shaking uncontrollably, he still curled into a ball and cradled the grenade tightly against his chest.

Agent Carter also took two steps forward and shouted, "Get away!"

At that moment, everyone finally saw clearly who the hero was!

Steve Rogers!

The universally acknowledged weakling of the camp, whom many mockingly dubbed a "sissy"!

Yet, while everyone else trembled under the lethal threat of shrapnel, he had rushed forward to embrace the grenade, shouting for everyone else to step back and keep out of danger, leaving the possibility of death entirely to himself.

Had that been a live grenade, he most likely would have been torn into a bloodied sieve of flesh and bone by the blast, while his comrades, by contrast, would have survived.

At this very moment, Colonel Phillips was finally convinced. He placed his hands on his hips and shouted, "That was a dummy grenade! It was designed to test your tactical awareness. Now the crisis is averted, fall in, everyone!"

The cowards looked around in bewildered doubt.

For example, Hodge, whom the colonel had previously favored, was peeking out from behind a jeep, looking pathetic and timid.

Steve sat up from the ground, taking heavy, ragged breaths, and asked somewhat blankly, "Was this a test?"

The doctor smiled and shrugged.

The colonel stubbornly refused to admit defeat, muttering, "He's still too skinny!"

Just two steps away from Steve, Agent Carter's beautiful, emerald-green eyes shimmered with shifting light.

That was admiration.

For the first time in her twenty short years of life, a man had earned her acknowledgment through sheer courage.

In the military camp, days passed swiftly, and few people knew that a storm was already brewing.

Far away in Germany, the Red Skull's desk was already littered with photographs of Dr. Abraham Erskine. Lurking in the shadows, the Red Skull sneered as he raised a crystal wine glass, the red wine within as crimson as blood.

Yet, America remained completely oblivious to the approaching crisis.

Actually, the Americans could hardly be blamed.

As the nation that profited the most from World War II, the American empire welcomed massive waves of refugees almost every single day. Refugees did not necessarily spell trouble; sometimes they also represented wealth, prosperity, and opportunity.

Countless wealthy individuals arrived on this once-new continent, carrying the fortunes they had managed to salvage while fleeing Europe.

Many skilled laborers were willing to contribute their precious knowledge and labor for meager wages.

Even greater still, brilliant German-born scientists such as Abraham Erskine and Albert Einstein were forced by various circumstances to seek refuge in America.

High-ranking officials in the US government were compelled to make excessively rational, even cruel decisions, pouring resources exclusively into the projects overseen by those specific scientists.

War was a bottomless money pit.

While grappling with exorbitant wartime expenses, the top brass also had to spend vast amounts of money, manpower, and material resources just to advance their technological tree, leaving them in a terribly difficult position.

Nevertheless, the Super Soldier project continued to march forward.

As the year ticked into 1943, Steve was finally led away from the military camp by Carter.

Looking at the bustling crowds on the streets of New York, Steve, who had spent over half a year confined to the military camp, felt as though he had crossed into another lifetime.

"Ah, Brooklyn... I got beaten up in that alleyway, over by that parking garage, and right behind that restaurant, too..."

Was this supposed to be a way of showing off to a pretty woman just how pathetic he used to be?

Peggy sat beside him in silence.

One had to admit that at this particular point in time, Steve could be described as the most inept man imaginable when it came to romancing women.

This was practically the embodiment of "I'm single by my own sheer capability, and I'm proud of it!"

Just look at Howard Stark across the board! That guy claimed to be a perpetual bachelor, yet he played the groom every single night, only to miraculously regain his single status sharp every morning. Howard's seasoned mastery—his eyes seeing through the code while his heart remained uncoded, having read through countless women—was no joke.

Beside him, Peggy rolled her eyes slightly. Had she not witnessed Steve throwing himself over a grenade at the risk of his life, she would have utterly despised the scrawny man sitting next to her.

As an agent, she should have perfectly concealed her emotions without a trace, never letting them show, let alone exposing her preferences or weaknesses.

And yet, unable to help herself, she asked out of the blue, "You... since you couldn't beat them, why didn't you just run away? Do you have some kind of secret that stops you from running?"

To an ordinary man's ears, such words bordered on insult, but Steve didn't mind. "Once you start running, they'll never let you stop. They'll chase you like a pack of hounds and humiliate you, taking pleasure in your pain and fear. So you have to stand up and fight back; they can't possibly make you fail completely every single time, can they?"

A chord seemed to be struck deep within Peggy's heart. "I suppose I can understand you. Every single attempt you made ended in failure. God closed every single door you ever encountered... I must say, that kind of persistence is remarkable."

Steve felt somewhat at a loss. Having actually received a compliment, he bobbed his head slightly and unconsciously waved his arms. "Actually, I don't really understand either why Miss Carter decided to join the army. Well, a woman, a beautiful lady, you know..."

He was beginning to ramble incoherently.

Peggy turned and gazed intently at Steve. "Tell me, do you simply have no idea how to talk to women?"

Damn it! How mortifying!

Steve felt as though the air had frozen solid.

Like a wooden statue, he was led by Peggy into a Brooklyn antique shop, stepping into what appeared to be a quaint antique store but was actually a top-secret facility.

Upon entering, Steve was dumbfounded, for he caught sight of a familiar face.

"Well, well! Fancy meeting you again, Mr. Steve Rogers."

"Mr... Mr. Mei?"