Chapter 22: Promotion to Corporal (2)
“I naturally believe in my abilities, but moving up the ladders with no rank to a corporal, it’s quite unexpected, colonel.” Kyle shrugged and calmed down.
“Of course, that’s a given. Becoming a corporal in three days time with no ranking would not have been possible during peacetime,” Colonel Marcos said solemnly. “But we’re at war! Kyle, you’ve been through a lot in the past few days. You’ve killer more enemies with your own hands than veterans who lived in peace for more than a decade.”
Colonel Marcos was silent for a moment before continuing. “You’ve got excellent individual combat performance, superior intelligence and analysis skills. It’s a pity to keep a gem like you washed under the rugs. Since the army has the ability to pave your path, and the army is in urgent need for talents like yours, moving up the ranks on the basis of skills is something of importance.”
“I see.” Kyle nodded.
Heroes tend to appear in troubled times. And it is precisely because of dispute periods during wartimes that organizations are able to ignore sets of laws put in stone and place them at higher ranks much quicker than normal.
“Times like this.. I like it.”
The corners of his mouth rose slightly, his blue eyes full of ambient confidence. He felt lucky to be born in this era.
Colonel Marcos smiled. “Don’t worry, we this’ll be your first time leading the troops, and because it’s an important counterattack, you won’t be going in alone.”
“That’s good. I’m afraid that I’d screw or up on my own to begin with.” Kyle breathe a sigh of relief. Now he knew the colonel was giving him a chance to exercise his skill while he had backup to support himZ
“Correspondent, go get Sergeant Fury!” Colonel Marcos shouter out of the tent.
“Sergeant Fury?” Kyle touched his chin. The name sounded oddly familiar.
Moments later, a black enlisted soldier walked into the tent. His left eye was still bandages with gauze dressed in a complete set of combat uniform—ready to go.
“It’s you, sergeant,” Kyle said, voice tinged with surprise. It was the black sergeant he met on the front lines for the first time.
“Soldier Kyle, no, Corporal Kyle, to say the least,” Sergeant Fury smiles and greeted him affectionately. He then saluted the officer, Colonel Marcos. ”Colonel, sir, I Sergeant Fury have recovered and back and ready! I’m able to carry out all plans necessary!”
“Very good.” Colonel Marcos nodded. “Kyle, this is your partner for tonight, Nick Fury. He’s been a sergeant in command for some time and has a plethora of experience in this line of field.”
Kyle blinked, suddenly in a daze hearing the name of the black sergeant.
Nick Fury? The Nick Fury? The future S.H.I.E.L.D director in the modern century!
“Take good care of me tonight, Corporal Kyle,”Sergeant Fury said.
His features was far less fierce and domineering than his future self. Right now, Nick Fury was at the prime of his age—about 25 years old.
“Yes,” Kyle replied. He calmed his nerves.
He’s in the World War era and already he’s met two great figures who’ll become great leaders in their own paths.
And to work alongside the director of S.H.I.E.L.D? How oddly interesting.
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