Chapter 152: Under-the-Table Dealings

"Yesterday, by sheer coincidence, a TV camera crew was filming the port's logistics and cargo operations and managed to capture the whole scene perfectly," Brandon said, adopting his cadence of a polished politician. "There is simply too much bad news coming out of Europe. Having Brooklyn infiltrated by so many enemies right here on our soil is far more shocking. Our country needs a hero right now, Colonel. Do you understand?"

The colonel nodded helplessly.

Before the bombing of Pearl Harbor, even more people died in Europe, yet the American public remained indifferent. But once the bombs fell on their own heads, the sensitive nerves of the public were deeply pricked.

With an incident of this magnitude happening in a vital area like Brooklyn—dozens of spies engaging in street gunfights and high-speed car chases—it was impossible to keep under wraps.

At a time like this, a hero was desperately needed to divert the public's attention.

Steve, who had bravely thwarted the enemy and rescued a child to boot, was undoubtedly the most suitable candidate for that heroism.

The senator turned his gaze to Steve. "I have witnessed Mr. Rogers' heroic demeanor in action, and more importantly, this country has witnessed it too. You are no longer merely a soldier; you are a [Symbol]."

At this moment, Mordo also stepped forward, wearing a righteous expression. "A fine man like Mr. Rogers, possessing such steadfast willpower and a heart dedicated to serving his country, should not have his life and time consumed by tedious experiments. Don't you agree?"

These words struck a chord deep within Steve's heart. He already held a very favorable opinion of Mordo, and his favorability rating instantly increased by another 998 points, reaching the [Revered] level.

"Thank you both for your understanding and support," Steve nodded heavily.

Senator Brandon walked over, put a hand on Steve's shoulder, and assumed the air of an elder dispensing wisdom. "My boy, do you wish to serve your country on the most crucial battlefield?"

Unaware of the destiny awaiting him, Steve snapped to attention on the spot. "Sir! That is precisely what I yearn to do!"

The senator grandly extended his right hand, gesturing for a handshake. "Then congratulations, Mr. Rogers. You've been promoted."

An excited Steve, still oblivious to what kind of ridiculous figure the [Captain America] he was about to become actually was, first thanked Brandon, then hurried over to shake Mordo's hand, and eagerly trotted off to make preparations.

Only Peggy Carter, who had managed to catch wind of some details, tracked Mordo down shortly afterward. "Mr. Strange, I believe this is a deception?"

"Deception? No, no, no, Miss Carter. I think you harbor a profound misunderstanding of me," Mordo replied with a wicked smile. "I can understand Miss Carter's... concern for Mr. Rogers."

Peggy's pretty face flushed, and the tough woman rarely failed to offer a rebuttal.

"But do you honestly know what kind of place Alamogordo is? If he goes there, that would truly ruin Rogers. On the contrary, pushing Rogers to the forefront is a form of indirect protection. Just think, would the U.S. government casually destroy a brand-building mascot of its own making? I imagine that once Rogers becomes famous, he will soon have the opportunity to hit the front lines."

Peggy pressed her lips together. She had no idea what lay within Alamogordo, nor why this mysterious sponsor had managed to receive such intelligence. Even so, she found herself accepting Mordo's reasoning.

Taking a deep breath, Peggy said, "I hope your vision is the correct one."

With that, she turned and left.

Mordo smiled without a word. At this stage, the upper echelons of the American government maintained an ultra-strict level of secrecy over Alamogordo. The security clearance was utterly jaw-droppingly high, allowing even high-ranking agents like Peggy to touch upon nothing more than the surface.

It was entirely different from the [Super Soldier Project], which had not yet been officially classified at the highest tier of secrecy.

Only a transmigrator would casually know that Alamogordo, located in New Mexico, would detonate the first atomic bomb in human history by the upcoming year of 1945.

Right now, it served as the site for heavily guarded research facilities with the highest security clearance in the entire nation. If Captain America truly went there, he could forget about ever walking out.

Mordo had no intention of repeating the same speech to Steve.

When the exact same words came from the same person a second time, the effect was inevitably poor. It would look far too deliberate!

True to expectation, it was Steve himself who sought out Mordo the very next day to thank him for his righteous assistance.

When he reflected on how his exposure to a single dose of serum had nearly reduced him to a guinea pig, Steve felt a phantom ache in his groin. Looking at Mordo, who stood not far away smiling silently, Steve finally understood why this Mr. Strange had repeatedly warned him never to casually speak of the secrets of the Holy Light.

Humanity harbored both a desire to understand the unknown and a deep-seated fear of it.

Now that he had finally shaken off the fate of a weakling, he was expected to become a lab rat, and who knows—if the higher-ups had a sudden whim, they might even dissect him. That was truly... messed up!

Yet his current situation seemed equally messed up!

That very night, Rogers found himself breathing heavily.

Neither facing death nor confronting an unknown experiment had made him this nervous.

"I... I don't know if I can handle this!"

Beside him, Mordo wore a facade of sincere yet thoroughly wicked 'smiles.' "It's very simple. Sell war bonds for the country, use the revenue to buy bullets, and use those bullets to shoot the Nazis. Bang! Bang! Bang! Problem solved! You aren't just an ordinary soldier anymore; you defended America on the home front, you are an American hero!"

Mordo gave Captain America's broad, sturdy back a firm pat.

"It's just that this isn't what I imagined," Captain America said with a bitter expression.

"Hey! Pal, you've endured hardship for so long. Can't you grit your teeth for just a little longer? When have I ever lied to you? As long as you perform brilliantly, you'll be sent to entertain the troops on the front lines. In the unlikely event that an emergency arises up front and they genuinely need you, I won't stand idly by."

"Alright! I trust you!"

Clad in a blue, form-fitting bodysuit with a silver five-pointed star emblazoned on the chest, Steve charged out, his left hand bearing a ridiculous tin shield adorned with the American Stars and Stripes pattern.

That's right! This was Broadway in New York!

The largest stage theater in New York and indeed the entire nation.

One had to hand it to the Americans—they truly understood the human heart. Over half a century ago, they already knew how to organize troupes of gorgeous women to perform high kicks.

Beneath rows of ultra-short skirts outside, two lines of milky-white legs and what looked like an endless, undulating range of snowy peaks nearly blinded Steve, a young virgin, preventing him from keeping his eyes open.

Holy crap! This is too thrilling!

Even worse, he was wearing a tight bodysuit.

He could only force himself to maintain his composure, fixing his gaze on the cheat sheet glued to the back of his shield as he recited his lines: "Perhaps not everyone can go to the front lines to fight the Nazis, but you can buy national war bonds to support your homeland!"

...

That's right, poor Steve had been hoodwinked by Mordo into performing stage plays—at least three shows a day, dressed in this ridiculous costume, holding an outrageously ugly shield, repeating the exact same lines day in and day out, and feigning blows against actors dressed as Hitler...

Offstage, Mordo and Senator Brandon, having struck a shady deal, watched the enthusiastic crowd and shook hands merrily.

"Rest assured, the promised 1% bond commission will be automatically deposited into your account every week."

"Pleasure doing business with you!" Mordo smiled like a fox.