Nationwide Fame

A little over a month later.

New York, Brooklyn, Elm Street.

The winter pedestrian streets gradually became bustling under the morning sun. Christmas had just passed, and the New Year was fast approaching. Despite being in the midst of World War II, New York, a major economic city, had not been touched by the smoke of war at all.

In the winter morning, people wrapped in overcoats hurried along the streets, busy with their work and livelihoods.

From time to time, one could see children in hooded jackets, clutching stacks of black and white newspapers, weaving through the crowded streets and shouting:

"Latest New York Times! Major Kyle and Lieutenant Steve have once again led their troops to annihilate a German fortress base!"

"Wall Street Journal! Two great American Heroes achieve brilliant victories again, pushing back the German front lines by twenty miles due to insufficient resource supply!"

"Victorious in every battle, the iron-blooded officer who turned the tide of the war, today he will explain the glorious path of the One-Man Army—Major Kyle!"

Newspapers from this period primarily focused on reporting battlefield victories. Once published, they would be snapped up by the public.

Indeed, the red-cheeked newspaper boy, his face flushed from the cold, had sold two stacks of Times newspapers in just half an hour on the wind-swept streets.

It was clear that even if World War II didn't outwardly affect New York, it was enough to make people worry about the American troops on the front lines, hoping and praying for a swift end to the war.

"Could I have one, please?" a blonde girl wearing a purple scarf asked with a smile, waving gently to a newspaper boy running down the street.

The boy immediately jogged over, took the change, and handed the last newspaper he had to the girl's shopping basket.

He widened his eyes, looking at the girl's delicate, angel-like face, and couldn't help but praise, "Big sister, you're so pretty."

"You have a sweet mouth." The blonde girl's beautiful eyes curved into a smile, her warm expression seeming to melt the surrounding snow. This caused many passing gentlemen on the street to bump into lampposts.

"Time to go home." Lucy exhaled a breath of cold air, gracefully carrying the groceries and newspaper in her basket, and began to walk home.

"Home," as it was called, was actually the house Kyle used to live in. Located at 199 Elm Street, it was a classic European-style duplex villa with a balcony garden.

Lucy took off her boots and entered. The house had a heater, and the temperature was much warmer than outside. So, she took off her padded coat, revealing her alluring figure that her sweater couldn't quite conceal.

After placing the basket on the table, Lucy, shedding her earlier elegance and composure, excitedly took out several newspapers from the basket, smoothing them out on the tabletop.

The newspapers had headlines and photo sections, and the main photos on the headlines of these papers were strikingly similar: either a stern young man holding a round shield and rallying troops, or a cool young man in a black combat suit wielding a long sword and charging towards the enemy.

Below the newspaper photos were detailed biographical annotations.

'Steve Rogers, 23 years old, Captain America, Lieutenant Officer.'

(Captain Steve's first battle was a joint deep infiltration into enemy territory with Major Kyle, where they destroyed a factory base, rescued five hundred American soldiers held captive, and successfully broke through.

He calls himself Captain America and always charges to the front with his shield, leading his team of soldiers to capture five German factory bases in one month, minimizing friendly casualties.

He is a patriot, a Super Soldier, and the embodiment of American justice!)

Lucy quickly skimmed through Steve's profile, her beautiful eyes then eagerly falling on the other, longer and more detailed profile.

'Kyle Dorf, 23 years old, the youngest Major Officer in history.'

Upon seeing this, Lucy revealed a sweet smile of satisfaction, her lips parting slightly as she read Kyle's subsequent biographical details aloud:

"Major Kyle is the youngest recipient of the Major rank in American history. In his first counterattack operation, facing a ten-to-one disadvantage in numbers, he infiltrated an enemy base, annihilated the German commander and main troop forces, and successfully seized the opportunity to turn the tide of the front-line battle.

To date, all campaigns led by Major Kyle have ended in complete victory, often with extraordinary feats of fighting a squad of enemies alone. According to incomplete statistics, the number of enemy kills attributed to him has exceeded ten thousand, making him a true One-Man Army!

He is a hero symbolizing American strength! He is a war fanatic feared by the German Army, nicknamed 'Devil' and 'Dicide' (translated as Demon and God of Slaughter).

Latest news: The President of the United States has awarded Major Kyle the Medal of Honor."

She finished reading in one breath, her face flushing with happiness. Although such widely publicized and praiseworthy reports about Kyle would appear frequently in the newspapers during this period, she would buy them every time and pore over them day after day.

"Just a few months ago, he was just a rookie breaking into enemy bases, and now he's a Major Officer so quickly. And a hero symbolizing American strength, hmph!"

Lucy pouted her delicate lips. She felt immense pressure. Not just in New York City, but young women all over America were infatuated with the cool young men in the newspapers.

After all, some movie theaters in major cities would occasionally screen propaganda films of combat operations from the front lines.

And Kyle and Steve had become like the protagonists in these war documentaries over the past few months. Their perfect figures charging into battle and fighting bravely, their formidable individual strength of fighting many alone, and their young, handsome faces were all on display.

A single gesture of them raising their arms to command or looking at the camera on the screen was enough to elicit fervent screams from lovesick girls.

"No matter what, Kyle was the first one I got to know."

"Little Lucy, you need to cheer up. There's no reason you should lose to those other women."

Lucy silently encouraged herself, curling up on the sofa, much like a wife waiting for her husband's return. Finally, she muttered with a hint of melancholy, "The New Year is coming soon, I wonder when Kyle will be back..."

At this moment, hundreds of miles away from New York, in the glacial mountains behind enemy lines.

Below, a rugged train track stretched from the side of a snow-capped mountain into the distance. Snow-capped peaks surrounded them, the wind was sharp, and snowflakes drifted down.

On the summit of one of these snow-capped mountains, a team of about a dozen American soldiers, clad in overcoats, lay in ambush, listening to intelligence from a rear base via monitoring equipment.

Fury stated with certainty, "It has been confirmed. The train passing through will have an important figure from the Hydra organization, a newly appointed middle-aged German scientist—Warner Turs."

"Alright, let's get on the train. This time we're just capturing a prisoner, so we don't need too many people," Kyle said quickly, looking at Steve beside him.

Steve nodded. "Just me, you, and Bucky. The three of us are skilled in individual combat. No matter how many guards are on the train, we won't be afraid."

"OK." Kyle nodded in agreement. In fact, he wouldn't be afraid of danger even if he went alone.

Kyle, Steve, and Bucky.

The three of them prepared themselves, standing shoulder to shoulder at the edge of the windswept summit, looking down at the hundreds of meters drop, patiently waiting for the enemy train to arrive.