Chapter 185: Ch.184 Heart-to-Heart
Chapter 185: Ch.184 Heart-to-Heart
Chapter 185: Ch.184 Heart-to-Heart
In the days that followed, Steve endured hellish training. For others, it was just standard boot camp: running, learning to crawl under barbed wire, and other basic drills. But for Steve, it was more than grueling. His heart condition and asthma made his chest feel like it was about to explode with every breath.
But he persisted. He knew that this was his only chance to get to the front lines, and no matter how difficult it was, he wasn't going to give up. Despite consistently finishing last in every task, he remained determined.
At first, his fellow soldiers didn't think much of him. He looked sickly and out of place, like someone who didn't belong in the army. But after a few days, everyone—except for Hodge—began to respect his resilience. No matter how frail his body seemed, his soul was undeniably strong.
Americans in this era still held simple, honest values, and they respected anyone who proved worthy of respect.
Steve also showed surprising ingenuity during training. One day, the drill instructor led them past a flagpole about thirty miles away from Camp Lehigh and told them no one had been able to retrieve the flag from the top in thirty years. Whoever could bring the flag down wouldn't have to run back to camp—they could ride back in the jeep with Agent Carter.
Enticed by the idea of conserving energy and getting a ride with Carter, the men swarmed the flagpole like a bunch of monkeys, scrambling to climb it.
But Steve stood back, observing the situation. Once the others had exhausted themselves, he simply removed the pin holding the flagpole in place, causing it to fall. He picked up the flag, handed it to the instructor, and said, "Thank you, sir."
Panting from exhaustion, Steve climbed into Agent Carter's jeep. His display of calmness and intelligence, despite being on the verge of collapse, impressed Carter. Not only had he done what no one else could, but he didn't gloat about it either.
These were rare and valuable traits.
Su Ming hadn't interacted with them much in the past few days. Occasionally, he would visit the camp, but he mostly kept his distance, watching from afar. Now, as the week neared its end, the moment when Captain America would emerge was drawing closer.
At dusk on the seventh day, Colonel Phillips and Dr. Erskine stood on the edge of the training field, discussing the recruits. They needed to finalize their choice.
"Why, Doctor? Why would you choose Steve? He's far too small," Phillips complained to Erskine. While it was impressive that Steve had made it through the week, he didn't seem like a soldier.
Erskine turned to look at the recruits bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Tilting his head slightly, he asked, "Who do you think we should pick?"
"Hodge. He's what a soldier should be," Phillips replied. He didn't have a bad impression of Hodge. Sure, the guy was a troublemaker, but in the military, being tough often meant you had the skills to survive.
The army was preparing for war, not a parade.
Erskine shook his head. "Hodge is a brute. I need a good man."
"But he's got courage, and courage is what's needed on the battlefield," Phillips said as he pulled a grenade from a nearby ammo box. Pulling the pin, he tossed it into the group of recruits. The small green ball bounced into their midst, and Phillips shouted, "Grenade!"
Chaos erupted as the recruits scattered, desperately searching for cover. Only Steve, however, dove onto the grenade, using his body to shield his comrades.
"Get away! Stay back!" Steve yelled.
Agent Carter, knowing it was a dud grenade, watched Steve with admiration. Though small, he had more courage than anyone else.
She had grown increasingly fond of Steve. Despite his size, his soul was enormous. She fully supported Erskine's decision—Steve was the right choice.
The grenade didn't explode. It was a fake, meant for training.
Meanwhile, Hodge, who Phillips had praised as the most courageous, had hidden behind cover and only peeked out when it was clear the danger had passed. The incident left Phillips feeling embarrassed, as if he had been slapped in the face.
"He's still too small," Phillips muttered.
Erskine gave him a teasing look. Even someone as tough-skinned as Phillips felt his cheeks flush. Unable to come up with a better response, he hurried away.
In two days, the experiment would take place. Until then, Steve would rest while the team prepared for the procedure.
That evening, the barracks were eerily empty. Steve was the only one left. His success meant that everyone else had failed. They had been sent to other combat units or reassigned within the Strategic Scientific Reserve. The harsh reality of war was reflected even in the barracks—there was no choice, only survival of the fittest.
Outside, shadows moved in the moonlight, but Steve remained at his desk, absorbed in a book.
Dr. Erskine appeared at the door, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Mind if I come in?"
"Of course not," Steve said with a smile, closing his book and gesturing for the doctor to enter.
Steve didn't know much about the experiment he was about to undergo, only that they'd inject him with something that would make him stronger.
Dr. Erskine strode over and set the glasses down on Steve's trunk. "Having trouble sleeping?"
"I guess... I'm a little nervous," Steve admitted with a sheepish grin.
The doctor sat down on the bed across from him. Though the room was brightly lit, Erskine's expression was far from relaxed. "So am I," he confessed.
Steve clasped his hands together, resting them between his knees as he leaned forward slightly. He studied the doctor's face, noting the lines and creases left by the years.
"I've always had one question... Why me?"
Erskine hesitated, adjusting his glasses as if lost in thought. His other hand nervously fiddled with the cork of the wine bottle.
"I think that's what's really keeping you up at night," Erskine said with a sigh, raising his eyebrows as if relieved to finally voice the truth. "The answer comes from Augsburg, my hometown."
Steve listened intently, the barracks quiet save for the sound of the doctor's voice. His emotions swirled with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and nervousness, as if someone had knocked over a spice rack in his heart.
Erskine continued, reminiscing about his past.
"Many people have forgotten, but the first country the Nazis invaded was their own. You see, after World War I, my people struggled and fought, but all they felt was weakness, insignificance."
He patted his knee as he spoke, recalling the hardships his country had endured. The people had been left starving and destitute, with England and France stripping away much of what they had.
"When they felt powerless, Hitler and his men appeared. They marched through the streets in their uniforms, brandishing their bright flags, preaching struggle and conviction... My people clung to them like a drowning man grasps at a straw."
Erskine adjusted his glasses again, the lenses showing faint scratches. The gesture was unconscious, revealing his inner turmoil despite his outward calm.
"Then, Hitler heard about my work. He wanted me to strengthen his army, but I had no interest in such a proposition. So, he turned to Hydra, led by a fanatic named Johann Schmidt."
This was the first time Steve had heard of Hydra, and his expression grew serious. He had a feeling that the Strategic Scientific Reserve had been formed specifically to combat this organization.
"Hitler and Schmidt were obsessed with mysticism. Hitler used it to inspire his followers, but for Schmidt, it wasn't just a tool—it was real. He believed that some hidden force, perhaps buried somewhere unknown, held the key to ultimate power. So when he learned of my research, he couldn't contain himself."
The room fell silent again as Erskine stared down, lost in his memories, while Steve pondered the doctor's words. He felt as though a door to a dangerous and unknown world had just opened before him, revealing that what he had previously seen was only the tip of the iceberg.