The Death Knell

This journey is actually not that far. Pennsylvania is just south of New York State. Philadelphia is 155 kilometers away from New York City. However, there is no highway yet. The faster way to get there is to take a train, which usually takes about four hours.

It was war time, and military trains transporting supplies had the highest priority. The train he took had to give way to almost all trains he encountered, so that by the time Steve arrived in Philadelphia, it was already the morning of the next day.

However, along the way, Steve couldn't sleep at all. He was filled with excitement and anticipation for the military camp. He just stared at the dark night outside the car window, his eyes turning red.

When he arrived at the Philadelphia train station, there was indeed a vehicle arranged by the military. He only needed to show his notice, then boarded a truck and waited to go to the military camp.

As expected, the carriage was full of tall, muscular men with hormonal auras. He was the only one who boarded the carriage with the help of the pick-up soldier, which made him somewhat embarrassed.

But the others just glanced at him without saying anything. Only a guy who looked like a bulldog spat at him with disdain in his eyes.

The car drove away quickly, and the car was still relatively empty. Including him, there seemed to be only about twenty new recruits this time.

The carriage covered by green canvas could not see the surrounding scenery at all, and could only see the yellow dirt road behind it. Some grass was sprouting on the roadside, and the branches were sprouting green.

Shaking and bumping, Steve felt like he was sitting on a small boat in a storm. After a while, his face turned livid, as if something couldn't be suppressed and was about to come out of his body!

"Wow!!!"

He used his last willpower to lie down at the back of the car, and like a rocket booster, he sprayed yesterday's dinner onto the road behind.

That is, instant noodles and some other things, and this obviously will not leave a good impression on his comrades.

"Hey man!"

"Uh... ugh."

"Disgusting."

Although none of these people spoke, Steve could see what they wanted to express from their expressions.

It was enough to get a consumptive ghost to join the army with them, but now this person seemed to be dying in the car. Seeing a dead man before he even went to the battlefield was not a good sign.

The person who spat at him before immediately started shouting.

"Damn it, I thought I was joining the US military, why is there such a waste!"

The contempt on his face became more obvious. He just liked to bully people. In the past, he often made fun of people who were thinner than him.

He is tall and strong, with muscles on his face, like a bulldog. He got an 1a rating on his own in the military recruitment and was selected by the Strategic Science Corps.

"Hey, that's enough. We will all be comrades-in-arms. In fact, on the battlefield, your target is much bigger than him."

At this time, a deep voice came from the darkness inside the carriage, and it seemed that there was no one there.

Bulldog turned his head and looked around, finally making out the outline of a person in the darkness, and spat again.

"What? You want to stand up for him, nigga? You can call me Master Hotch, and as long as you lick my boots and give me your black ass, I'll let him go, haha."

The people around were obviously suppressing laughter. They were used to it. If this was not the army, black people would have sat at the end of the car and could not sit on an equal footing with white people.

But only the military can see this kind of excitement, right?

"Want to play with my black ass? It depends on whether you have the ability..."

The black man in the carriage stood up. He was not as tall as Hodge, nor as strong, but his expression was calm, as if nothing could ever cause him to have emotional fluctuations.

In the bumpy carriage, he walked up to Hodge as if walking on flat ground and looked at him condescendingly.

"What the hell..."

Before Hotch could get angry, the black man suddenly raised his knee and hit him hard on the chin. The huge force caused the back of his head to hit the fence of the car. Hotch rolled his eyes and hiccupped. Fainted.

The people in the car who were laughing and watching the excitement suddenly became quiet, and only the sound of Steve's retching could be heard, as the scenery behind the car quickly swept backwards.

The black man touched his curly short hair and looked around at the people in the carriage. He patted the non-existent dust on his pants and asked lightly.

"Who else is interested in my skin color... or my ass?"

Naturally, no one would answer him. The lightning-fast attack just now proved that he was a ruthless character who was not easy to mess with.

The people in the car were all civilians before, and it was completely impossible to beat such an obviously well-trained person. Although they were very unhappy with the black man showing off his power, they could only suppress their displeasure in their hearts.

"Good, we're done."

The black man walked towards Steve at the end of the car. Steve was lying on the fender at the back of the car, breathing with his eyes closed.

He didn't even dare to open his eyes, he was so dizzy now.

"How's it going, man, are you okay?"

The black man squatted next to him, reached out and patted Steve on the shoulder. He turned his head slightly. After all, the smell of vomit was not very good.

"I'm fine. Thank you. I heard you speak for me just now."

Steve spoke intermittently, and showed a smile that was uglier than crying.

The black man tilted his head indifferently. A villain like Hotch was nothing to him. This little man was discriminated against because of his body, and he himself was discriminated against because of his skin color.

They both suffer from the same problem.

The black man leaned closer and lowered his voice, almost blending in with the roar of the truck engine.

"If you want to beat him up on the battlefield, count me in."

"What? No, I wouldn't do that."

Steve was shocked because it was too extreme to shoot right behind his comrades.

He turned his head and looked at the black man behind him with wide eyes.

The black man's face remained expressionless, as if he had said nothing just now.

"It's just a joke. Look, if I scare you, you won't feel motion sickness anymore?"

It was true that he no longer felt motion sickness, but Steve couldn't tell whether he was really joking or not, after all, he had no intention of laughing at all.

I hope it's a joke...

"Uh, okay, I don't really understand jokes on the battlefield. Anyway, thank you." Steve got up from the floor of the carriage and returned to his seat, and the black man naturally sat next to him. .

This black man was wearing old clothes, and it could be seen that his family background was not very good, but he sat upright, as if he was wearing the highest-end dress.

Steve was full of curiosity about him. He rubbed his palms on his clothes and stretched them out towards the black man.

"My name is Steve and I'm from Brooklyn."

The black man stretched out his palm and shook it slightly: "New Yorker? You are lucky, I don't know where my home is, but fortunately I still have a name, I am Nick Fury."