Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 176: Ch.175 Sergeant Bucky

Time after time, Steve fell and got back up, but the fight was one-sided, with the thug pummeling him relentlessly.

Once again, Steve stood, licking the blood from his lips, and took up a pathetic-looking fighting stance, his posture resembling more of a "baby bird" than a boxer. He had learned this stance from watching professional fighters, but with his small frame and the pain distorting his movements, it looked anything but intimidating—just ridiculous.

The thug felt like he was bullying a child and had already lost interest. All Steve had to do was stay down, and the thug would\'ve been done with him.

"Don\'t you know when to give up?" the thug sneered, suggesting that Steve could avoid more pain by just staying down.

But Steve lunged at the thug, swinging his weak little fists, only to be knocked down again by the thug\'s massive hand, which was as large as a frying pan.

Steve crashed into the garbage cans again. The aluminum bins were already dented, but Steve grabbed a lid and held it like a shield in front of him, panting heavily.

"I could do this all day," Steve said, defiantly.

The thug raised an eyebrow, annoyed by Steve\'s stubbornness. He decided the kid needed a real beating.

As the thug grabbed the trash can lid from Steve and prepared to land another punch, someone suddenly grabbed his arm from behind.

"Maybe you should pick on someone your own size."

It was Bucky, along with Gin—and Gin\'s dozen bodyguards.

These men in black suits, with bulging pockets and hands inside their jackets, had cold, menacing expressions. They looked terrifying as they ruthlessly began to pummel the thug.

Gin cracked his neck and gestured to his men, who dragged the thug away. What they planned to do with him was unknown.

Bucky ran over to help Steve to his feet, checking him over for injuries. Seeing that Steve only had some surface wounds, Bucky began teasing his friend.

"Sometimes I think you enjoy getting beat up."

The sound of cars driving by echoed from the street, and screams came from the nearby movie theater. But Steve\'s head was filled with a dull buzzing, barely able to focus on Bucky\'s words.

He wiped the blood from his nose and straightened up, trying to sound tough. "You were late. I had him cornered at one point."

Bucky raised an eyebrow but didn\'t call out the obvious lie. Instead, he bent down and picked up a piece of paper that Steve had dropped—a rejection letter from the draft office.

"This is what, the fourth time?" Bucky unfolded the letter. It read: Steven Rogers, failed physical, classified 4F, recommended immediate hospital treatment. Bucky smirked as he read aloud. "So now you\'re from Paramus?"

Steve didn\'t respond, feeling a little ashamed for breaking the law. He just kept his head down, brushing off the trash and food scraps stuck to his clothes.

Bucky shook his head, folded the letter, and spoke seriously. "You know it\'s illegal to falsify draft information, right? And Paramus? Seriously? Your Brooklyn accent is like it\'s carved into your bones."

Steve finally looked up, wiping the last of the blood from his face, only to see Bucky standing proudly in front of him, wearing a military-green uniform.

"You passed?" Steve asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Bucky sighed. He knew his friend would feel bad about it. They had planned to go to war together, but Steve\'s body...

With a resigned sigh, Bucky said what he couldn\'t hide any longer.

"107th Infantry Regiment. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, heading out to England tomorrow morning."

The 107th had been stationed in England for over three months, enduring relentless bombardment. As the son of a fallen soldier and one of the most capable replacements, Bucky had inherited his father\'s rank and became a junior officer.

It wasn\'t just a tradition in Chinese factories that the son followed in the father\'s footsteps; even old foreign military units had similar customs.

Steve nodded absentmindedly, his mind reeling. He lowered his head, then shook it, feeling lost. His voice was filled with disappointment.

"We were supposed to go together."

The two friends stood in silence for a moment. But Bucky quickly shifted the mood. He smiled, patting Steve on the shoulder, and pulled him along, guiding him out of the alley.

"Alright, buddy. Cheer up. Tonight\'s my last night on the home front. I\'ve gotta take care of you before I go."

"Huh? What? Where are we going?" Steve asked, bewildered, noticing Gin standing at the alley\'s entrance, calmly smoking a cigar. The thug who had beaten him was nowhere in sight.

The alley smelled of garbage and car exhaust, but the scent of blood was gone.

Bucky handed Steve something. It was a set of special passes. Bucky grinned mischievously.

"We\'re going to the future."

Steve rubbed his eyes and looked closely at the event name on the passes.

"World of Tomorrow Expo."

Bucky nodded enthusiastically. "Yep. Mr. Gin came by to drop these off, but you weren\'t home, so I figured you\'d be at the movie theater. Mr. Wilson gave us VIP passes. We get backstage access and can meet all sorts of celebrities and big shots."

Gin wore his usual signature smile—the kind that could send chills down your spine. But Steve and Bucky had gotten used to it over the years. They knew that despite his frightening appearance, Mr. Gin was a kind-hearted person.

The only strange thing was that ten years ago, Mr. Wilson had looked younger than their fathers. Now, a decade later, he still looked the same—like someone their own age.

It was peculiar.

But Steve and Bucky didn\'t dwell on it. After all, the Bible said that the faithful would be blessed by God and spared from the suffering of aging.

To them, Su Ming had earned such grace. He had always cared for them and helped the citizens of New York through hard times. Of course, God would grant him eternal youth.

These were times of deep faith. When people encountered things they couldn\'t explain, they were more inclined to attribute it to divine intervention. If someone flew through the air, they wouldn\'t whip out their phones and post about it; they\'d cross themselves and thank God for the miracle.

Steve hesitated. His body ached all over. But since Bucky was leaving tomorrow, they had to spend tonight together. It didn\'t matter where they went—what mattered was that he had to say goodbye to his best friend.

Seeing Steve\'s indecision, Bucky grinned and added, "Come on, pal. I\'ve got a couple of pretty ladies lined up to join us tonight. You\'ve gotta solve that little life problem of yours. It\'s settled."