Card Draw Ability

Ability cards, available to draw?

Was this the golden finger I had gained by transmigrating into another body...

Lu Ming did not dwell on it. He immediately drew the Basic English Mastery from the young man beside him.

It was merely a thought. After the three-second draw time ended, the young man's words became clearly understandable to him. "Are you really okay? You look awful. Do you want to go back to the military infirmary and get checked out?"

"Uh, I'm fine. I just hadn't fully woken up yet." Lu Ming tried replying. English rolled off his tongue as naturally as his native language, even carrying the local accent.

"As long as you're okay." The young man sighed in relief, handed him a cup of water and some medicine, and said with a smile, "You should take the medicine first."

Lu Ming nodded, swallowed the pills, and took several gulps of water before letting out a breath. "Whew, I feel alive again. By the way, my head is still a little dizzy. I want to confirm something with you. Where am I?"

Seeing Lu Ming's serious expression, the young man froze in surprise for a moment before quickly treating it as a joke and laughing. "Kyle, did you knock yourself silly? This is an American military Training Base."

"Kyle, military Training Base?" Lu Ming pondered this. He knew that the original owner of this body was named Kyle, and he silently accepted Kyle as his new name.

From this day onward, there would be no more Lu Ming. There would only be the brand-new Kyle.

After all, no matter how cruel reality was, life had to go on.

The young man continued, "Yeah, the Training Base. We're recruits, and we've only been here for one day. Maybe it was also because the weather was too hot. You got heatstroke and passed out during the high-intensity running drills."

Heatstroke. It looked like this body was in pretty poor condition.

Kyle grumbled inwardly. Then, as if he had suddenly remembered something, he hurriedly placed both hands on the young man's thin shoulders and anxiously asked, "Right, one more question. Have you ever heard of the 'Avengers'? This is very important. Tell me quickly."

Confirming whether this was the Marvel universe was his top priority.

"Kyle, stop shaking me so hard." The young man rolled his eyes. His malnourished, frail body nearly seemed ready to fall apart from the shaking.

Only after Kyle stopped did he catch his breath and answer, "I really don't know this... whatever Alliance you're talking about. What is it?"

"You don't know..." Kyle frowned, then quickly seemed to remember something and widened his eyes. "Wait, what time is it now? I mean the year, month, and day."

"Kyle, did you really hit your head?" the young man asked in astonishment.

"Tell me."

"It's September 1943."

"1943... So it really is during World War II..." Kyle fell silent. Even if this was the Marvel universe, the Avengers did not exist during World War II.

Right, there was still one iconic figure.

"One last question." Kyle took a deep breath and asked with nervous anticipation, "Is there someone named 'Steve' in this training camp?"

"Steve?" The young man's expression turned strange.

"Yes, Steve Rogers." Kyle quickly confirmed it. During World War II in the Marvel universe, there was the earliest hero to appear among the Avengers.

Captain America. He should also have been Marvel's earliest superhero.

"Kyle, what are you talking about? You and I both know that person." The young man blinked. Under Kyle's puzzled gaze, he pointed at his own nose and said with a smile, "I'm Steve Rogers."

Upon hearing that, Kyle's eyes widened in shock as he examined the young man before him from head to toe once more.

Compared to ordinary young men, he was thin and small. He had simple blond hair and a face that looked weak but still possessed a sense of righteousness. Well, no wonder he had seemed somewhat familiar. Wasn't this Captain America himself before he received the Super Soldier Serum?

Since Steve was here, then this truly was the Marvel universe.

Kyle had no mood to bother with the living idol before him. He did not know whether he felt happy or afraid. The thought of being able to come into contact with the black technology of superheroes who had once only existed in movies thrilled him. Yet the thought of Marvel's powerful villains gave him a headache.

Still, this was Marvel during World War II. Whether he even had the fate to survive until the twenty-first century was uncertain, so worrying about Thanos's snap was far too early.

Besides, Captain America himself was right beside him. That counted as having a powerful backer, didn't it? (Even a mosquito leg was still a leg.)

Thinking of this, Kyle's gaze toward Steve changed, making Steve shudder. He unconsciously took half a step back.

"Right." Steve seemed to recall something important and said worriedly, "Captain Brant asked me to tell you that once you woke up, he wanted you to go see him."

"Oh, the officer in charge of training recruits?" Kyle nodded. He had watched the first Captain America movie and still had some impression of the training officer character.

Before Steve became Captain America, his frail body had caused the officer and his fellow trainees to target him at every turn.

Perhaps the original owner of this body had caused trouble. As a recruit, passing out from heatstroke on the first day of training had probably left the officer with a very bad impression.

Kyle thought for a moment, then calmly said, "I don't really remember how to get to the officer's office. Take me there."

"Sure, follow me." Steve nodded.

Steve led Kyle out of the barracks dormitory, and the two walked along the internal roads of the base.

The sunlight outside was dazzling. On the massive training grounds, groups of young soldiers wearing only white undershirts, their sturdy arms exposed, ran beneath shouted commands.

"Hey, look. Isn't that Kyle and Steve?"

"Getting heatstroke on the first day of training. What a pretty boy."

"One pretty boy and one scrawny runt. Those two really make a pair."

A squad of recruits ran past them while whistling. They were clearly fellow trainees from the same dormitory.

"Kyle, don't pay attention to them." Steve turned back to comfort him, only to see not the slightest resentment on Kyle's face, but instead a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

Naturally, Kyle did not care about those recruits. To someone like him, who possessed the golden finger of Card Draw Ability, only Steve beside him, who would soon become Captain America, was qualified to be his comrade.

On the way to the officer's office, Kyle continuously tested his Card Draw Ability.

Very quickly, he came to a few conclusions:

First, as long as someone was within three meters of him, he could obtain information on the cards they possessed.

For now, the categories were simply divided into Item Cards and Ability Cards. Item Cards could not be drawn, while Ability Cards could be copied and drawn freely.

Ability Cards represented a person's skills and capabilities. Common skills such as Basic English and driving were White Cards. Those that had reached a certain level of professional mastery, such as English Mastery and Pistol Mastery, became Green Cards.

"Green Ability Cards can also be drawn, but they take longer than White Cards..." Kyle was still exploring his Card Draw Ability when Steve suddenly patted his shoulder in reminder and led him toward a room.

"Reporting, sir! Soldier Steve has brought Kyle here!"

"Uh, Soldier Kyle, reporting!"

Kyle followed Steve. The two stood at the office entrance and gave standard military salutes.

"Come in!" At the sound of a stern, steady voice, the two walked into the office side by side. The interior was as simple and neat as the rest of the military camp, with only a desk in the center.

A middle-aged man in an officer's uniform sat behind the desk. He was apparently Captain Brant. Besides him, a female agent in a short-skirted military uniform stood beside the desk, holding a stack of documents.

"Soldier, how is your body?" Captain Brant looked at Kyle coldly. Kyle immediately replied, "Reporting, sir, I have fully recovered and can resume training immediately."

"Oh?" Captain Brant frowned and said evenly, "There's no need for training. You can go back and pack your things. Someone will take you home tomorrow morning."

Steve's expression changed slightly. Those words were undoubtedly a death sentence for Kyle's career as a soldier.

The female agent said nothing, lowering her head to record something in the documents.

Only Kyle, the person involved, remained calm, as if this had nothing to do with him. He said steadily, "Reporting, sir, I insist on staying and continuing my training as a soldier."

Captain Brant snorted. "Training? What training? You got heatstroke and passed out on your first day. Your willpower is utterly pathetic. You're simply disgracing the American military!"

"Tell me, what qualifications and abilities do you have to become a soldier who protects his country?" At this point, Captain Brant's gaze swept over Steve. Clearly, he was scolding Steve along with Kyle.

Facing the question, Kyle took a deep breath, stepped forward, and answered confidently, "Give me one chance, and I will show you my abilities and qualifications."

With that one step, Kyle entered within three meters of Captain Brant. As he concentrated, more than thirty White and Green Cards of varying shades appeared before his eyes.

Good lord. As expected of an officer who trained recruits. He had nine Green Cards alone!

Pistol Mastery, Rifle Mastery, Military Auxiliary Equipment Mastery, Military Boxing and Combat Mastery, Trainee Soldier Coaching Mastery...

"You certainly talk big. Tell me, how do you plan to prove yourself?" Captain Brant gave a cold laugh. When someone with talent said such things, it could be called confidence. When someone without talent said them, it was arrogance.

What talent could a recruit who had gotten heatstroke and passed out just from running on his first day of training possibly possess?

The female agent beside the desk also shook her head inwardly. Her impression of Kyle worsened. Although the soldier before her could rank in the top three of the entire training camp in terms of looks, his willpower and self-awareness were not even comparable to Steve's.

"If you don't believe me, sir, how about you compete with me, a soldier?" After looking over Captain Brant's cards, Kyle felt even more confident. He calmly said, "If I win, I will remain in the camp. If I lose, there will be no need for you to dismiss me. I'll pack my things and leave on my own."

"Compete? You? Don't tell me you want to play cards or flip coins or something?" Captain Brant looked at him as if he were an idiot.

"Of course not. I want to compete with Captain Brant in the abilities of a soldier!" Kyle said, taking a deep breath.

"Enough! Soldier, don't be so presumptuous!" Captain Brant slammed his hand on the desk and rose to his feet. Slightly angered, he said, "What right do you have to compete with me? This is an insult to an officer. I could have you brought before a military court!"

Kyle knew he had no way back, so he could only persist. "I have no intention of insulting you, sir. I am serious. I want to use this opportunity to demonstrate my abilities as a soldier."

"You!" Captain Brant was about to say something when the female agent beside him interjected, "Soldier, what do you want to compete with Captain Brant in?"

"Marksmanship—any kind of gun." Kyle answered decisively.

The female agent stared directly into Kyle's eyes, as though trying to find something on his face. Finally, she said, "I think he should be given a chance," then returned to her previous silence.

"You want to compete with me in marksmanship. I don't know whether you're overly confident or simply giving up on yourself." Captain Brant sneered, silently sat back down, and said, "Fine. I'll let you go home fully convinced. Five o'clock this afternoon, at the shooting range. We'll compete in fifty-meter rifle targets."

"Alright." Kyle secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was going as expected. His attention now shifted to the female agent.

She could interrupt an officer, so this female agent seemed to have quite the background. He wondered whether she had any Ability Cards that might be useful later.

Kyle acted the moment he thought of it. His mind immediately focused on the female agent, and in the next instant, he was nearly dumbfounded.

Far more than the officer's thirty-plus cards, over seventy Ability Cards appeared from the female agent's body. The interwoven White and Green Cards nearly obscured her mature, shapely figure entirely.

Psychology Mastery, Medical Rescue Mastery, Morse Code Mastery, Assassination Mastery, True Rifle Mastery, Etiquette Mastery...

There were no fewer than twenty Green Ability Cards alone!

And among them was a card even deeper and greener than an ordinary Green Card, dazzlingly radiant...

"Since this is a wager, could we have this agent act as a witness? It would be best to have written proof." Kyle suggested with a smile. At a moment like this, he was naturally not trying to flirt.

After all, drawing a Green Ability Card required three minutes, and the draw only worked within one meter.

Yet his appearance of having victory already in hand made everyone in the office, including Steve, fall silent.

Reading Note: This book embraces Marvel's own wish-fulfillment traits of superheroes, individualism, technology, and mythology.

(In other words, some plot points would rather be exaggerated and item attributes raised in order to suit the protagonist.)