The President Awards the Medal, Goodbye Captain America

After settling everything, Luke spent the next few days navigating various social events.

From press conferences held at the White House to celebratory dinners hosted by different military branches, he was constantly on the go.

Everyone he met greeted him with smiles and praise, creating such a harmonious atmosphere that Luke almost had the mistaken impression that the war was already won.

According to the movie's plot, if Captain America hadn't stopped Hydra's bombing plan orchestrated by Red Skull, the Allies might not have won so smoothly.

"...It is my great honor to present this Medal of Honor, a symbol of fearless bravery, to Commodore Luke Cavill! He is a hero to the Allies, and a hero to us all!"

On the White House lawn, President Roosevelt, seated in his wheelchair, personally pinned the medal, representing the highest military honor, onto Luke's chest.

Afterward, the two men shook hands warmly and posed for a photograph.

Luke figured tomorrow's newspapers would all feature this event on their front pages.

"I'd heard you were young, but I didn't expect you to be this young! You know, at your age, I was only thinking about how to hit on the hottest girls at school!"

Following the medal ceremony, there was a luncheon at the White House. A member of the presidential staff guided President Roosevelt over to Luke.

As America's longest-serving and highly regarded leader, he knew exactly how to build rapport with people.

Throughout their conversation, the President only spoke about Luke's deceased parents, his difficult school days, and Uncle Frank, among other things.

He acted like a kind and approachable elder, rather than a powerful figure in high office.

"I merely made some insignificant contributions; I'm no different from the soldiers on the battlefield."

Luke was equally adept at delivering polite remarks.

Politicians always tended to speak indirectly, and even a statesman like Roosevelt was no exception.

"Dwight and I are both very grateful for your gift. Luke—may I call you that? I've met many outstanding young people, but you are still the most outstanding among them!"

The President finally got to the point, saying with a smile, "As a token of our gratitude, what can I do for you? This war isn't over yet, and the distribution of many... benefits is difficult to finalize. Your current position is already quite prominent, and advancing further will be challenging."

"I wish to return to the battlefield and personally bring this war to an end."

Luke stated his intention firmly, his expression showing no hint of pretense.

For him, the rank of Commodore was not enough.

The key was to seize the opportunity to rack up achievements while the war was still ongoing.

No matter how polite Roosevelt was to him now, once World War II concluded and Luke had no further value beyond his medal, the President would undoubtedly treat him like a stranger.

Oh, and if nothing unexpected happened, this President, who was in a wheelchair, might pass away from a cerebral hemorrhage before the war officially ended.

In that case, Truman, as the Vice President, would be the one worth investing in.

A series of thoughts flashed through Luke's mind.

"Uh..."

The President, who had been expecting to make a string of empty promises, was taken aback. Why wasn't this young Commodore playing by the usual rules?

He was supposed to be the one offering favors, building connections, and then reaping the rewards of loyalty and gaining a trusted confidant...

How did it turn into a righteous plea to return to the front lines?

"Then I'll contact Allied Command," the President said dryly.

Luke, watching him leave, dropped his smile.

He had set a goal long ago: not to be a mascot for the federal government.

Neither politicians nor capitalist groups could buy him.

"Who would willingly submit to being subordinate to others?"

Luke swirled the champagne in his glass, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"Commodore, sir, I'm a reporter from the Daily Bugle! May I take a picture?"

Seeing the President depart and with no accompanying staff to stop him, the young reporter quickly jogged over.

He struggled with his heavy camera, looking expectantly at Luke.

Daily Bugle?

So, this was an established newspaper?

Luke raised an eyebrow, stood up straight, and put on a friendly yet polite smile.

"Sure."

Click!

A flash of light, and the moment was captured.

The young Commodore's upright posture and handsome face would soon be spread across the world through printed newspapers.

"You don't seem too happy, Steve—oh, I should call you Captain America. Who's going to deal with those Krauts? The Stars and Stripes man with a grand vision!"

It had been a week since Luke returned to New York when he finally met up with Rogers.

The Allied Command had finally agreed to let the young commodore, who was desperate to get to the front lines, go to the battlefield.

With some time on his hands, Luke made a special trip to visit his old friend, even humming a familiar tune that was known everywhere, from the main streets to the alleyways.

Rogers, however, seemed unwilling to hear the song. He turned his head away in embarrassment and said, "Stop teasing me, Luke—or should I call you Superman? I don't like this life at all!"

Backstage at the Broadway Theater, Captain America, clad in a tight costume and holding a Stars and Stripes shield, wore a dejected expression.

Gone was the unwavering resolve and soaring spirit of before!

He had become a tool for the Senator, promoting war bonds.

His daily life consisted of cooperating with propaganda, performing on stage, and posing for photos.

He spoke the same tired lines and performed the same repetitive actions, like a machine!

"You're a hero from comic books and movies, Captain America, admired by everyone..."

Luke said, deliberately patting his friend's shoulder.

"They just need an idol! A clown on stage! You're the real hero! Oh, and congratulations, Commodore Cavill!"

Rogers shook his head, cheered himself up, and managed a smile.

His original goal in joining the army was to contribute to the war effort, just like the soldiers on the front lines.

Not to stand on stage like a clown, spouting meaningless lines and selling government bonds.

"I thought you'd like this feeling, the big star of the Broadway Theater, recognized wherever you go."

Luke said with a chuckle, hooking his arm around Rogers' neck.

"But you've changed a lot. I used to have to bend down to reach your shoulder."

Rogers turned his face away, ignoring his friend's teasing, and said wearily, "You know, the last time I went to the Caspian Training Camp in New Jersey—the place we used to go. Every soldier was talking about you, about your training experiences and your legendary deeds."

"Really! I'm so happy for you, and I'm proud of you! Luke, you deserve this honor! I wanted to tell them then that you're my friend! But I was afraid the soldiers would ask why you were on the front lines while I was hiding in the rear..."

Rogers, called "Captain America," let out a self-deprecating laugh.

He was tired of his current life, yet he couldn't rebel.

Obeying orders was a soldier's duty.

And since the Senator had obtained the military's approval, Rogers had no choice but to comply.

"Then come to Europe with me."

Luke, just like in Brooklyn, slung an arm around Rogers' shoulders and delivered the surprising good news in a casual tone.

"Europe... Really?"

It took Rogers a few seconds to react, his face filled with disbelief.

"But what about the military? The Senator won't agree!"

Soon, Rogers' eyes dimmed again.

He knew Luke wanted to help him, but it would be bad if it caused trouble.

Senator Brandt held a significant position within the Committee and had good relations with the military.

"Hey, little guy from Brooklyn, standing before you is a commodore, a hero of the Allies, a rising star honored by the President."

Luke feigned annoyance, furrowing his brow and stating his titles with mock seriousness.

In fact, before driving here, he had gone to see Senator Brandt.

Upon hearing his purpose, the arrogant Senator had readily agreed without a word.

Before Luke left, the man had even implored him not to hold a grudge, adopting a very humble posture.

This was the true nature of politicians: bullying the weak and fearing the strong, shifting with the wind!

"So, Captain America, want to go to the European front and see just how powerful Hydra really is with me!"

Upon hearing Luke's invitation, Rogers nodded vigorously, his eyes full of surprise.

He felt like his life had regained its hope!

"Thank you, Luke."

Rogers said gratefully.

"You should call me Commander."

Luke chuckled, then took Captain America's arm and led him away from the Broadway Theater.

"Let's go! Let's grab a drink! To celebrate Captain America's new life, and to celebrate our reunion!"

The two figures walked down the street, arm in arm and laughing, disappearing into the crowd.

ps: You'll vote and collect and like, right? ヾ(=ω=)o