Chapter Nineteen: The Battle Ends

During the final phase of the raid, Kyle had already exceeded the limits of his body—having lost a great deal of blood from a gunshot wound and enduring prolonged, intense combat. The moment he relaxed, he quickly slipped into unconsciousness.

Fury ordered several soldiers to carry Kyle and the rescued girl back to the temporary camp for emergency treatment, while he led the remaining ninety-some troops to continue the raid.

Thanks to the massive explosion Kyle had triggered, the large base was left in ruins; not only were its defensive mechanisms obliterated, but all organizational systems were riddled with holes. Hundreds of surviving German soldiers, deprived of their commanders’ guidance, had intended to rescue their wounded from the blast zone. However, when a fully armed, well-rested American unit intervened, they crumbled immediately.

The battle raged from deep night until five in the morning, and only when the sky began to pale with dawn did Fury finally finish “clearing” the base. Even though it was a one-sided slaughter, twenty-seven American soldiers were lost.

Yet the results were extraordinary—combined with Kyle’s individual feats, their unit’s raid eliminated approximately 1,020 German soldiers stationed there, and they seized complete control of the enemy’s major military base.

It was the most spectacular victory the American forces had achieved since the start of the war!

Of course, Kyle was utterly unaware of any of this, for his unconsciousness lasted a full week. When he finally awoke, it was the morning of the eighth day.

Kyle opened his eyes to find himself lying in a large, white hospital bed. His left shoulder was bandaged all the way down to his waist, his wrist connected to an IV drip, and various medical instruments attached to his bare torso.

All this for a single gunshot wound? Wasn’t that a bit excessive?

Kyle smiled wryly, realizing he must have been out for a long time. After all, during his period of unconsciousness, his mind had been trapped in the card space.

Now, however, he felt vigorous and energetic; his body seemed to be nearly fully recovered.

He tore off the IV and the probes, pressed his hand to the wound on his left shoulder, and felt a faint twinge of pain. He leaned back comfortably against the headboard.

Both bedside tables were piled high with fresh flowers and fruit. A gentle breeze stirred the gauzy curtains, and through the window he could see blue skies and grassy woodland. The outside world was peaceful and serene.

“Where have they taken me?” Kyle wondered, bewildered. This was clearly not a frontline combat zone or a training base.

But it didn’t matter. Wherever he was, the important thing was that he was alive and healthy.

Kyle, ever adaptable, felt a pang of hunger. He grabbed an apple from the table and began munching, the crisp bites soothing his appetite.

Just as he reached for a third apple, the door to the ward abruptly opened. With the apple still in hand, Kyle instinctively looked up.

What he saw took his breath away.

Standing before him was a girl with the face of an angel—large, clear blue eyes, tender pink lips, and radiant golden hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. She wore a sky-blue dress that reached her knees, her slender, fair arms exposed to the air. Her youthful figure hinted at graceful curves.

She was the second stunningly beautiful Western woman Kyle had encountered since his rebirth—the first being Carter at the training base, whose allure was mature and cool. This girl, however, possessed an adorable and enchanting charm.

Seeing Kyle with an apple in his mouth, the girl froze, then suddenly called out excitedly like a rabbit, “Doctor, doctor! Kyle is awake!”

“So it’s her,” Kyle thought, startled. The familiar voice revealed her identity: she was the girl he had rescued from the German base.

He hadn’t recognized her before—the darkness that night had obscured her features, and at the time she was pale and weak, her body bound and battered. Compared to her appearance now, the difference was striking.

“No, no, you shouldn’t eat apples like that—you need to peel them first!” After alerting the doctor, the girl quickly returned to the ward and snatched half the apple from Kyle’s hand.

“How are you here…” Kyle began, then realized he’d asked the wrong question and quickly corrected himself, “Um, where am I?”

The girl replied, “We’re in the First Military Hospital of America, in New York. You were stabilized at the temporary camp on the front lines, then flown here by helicopter for recovery.”

“I see.” Kyle nodded thoughtfully.

“You don’t realize—the bullet didn’t just hit your left shoulder; it missed your heart by only a few centimeters. You really scared me during the rescue. Luckily, you’re remarkably strong.” She said this as she leaned closer to Kyle, reaching to adjust his white bandages.

“What are you doing?” Kyle asked, surprised. At this proximity, he could faintly smell the fragrance of her golden hair.

“I’m helping you change your bandages. My parents are doctors and nurses—I’m good at this sort of thing.” As she spoke, a shadow of sorrow crossed her pretty face.

Kyle understood immediately. As a prisoner, her family and friends from her hometown had likely been killed by invading German troops.

Sensing the atmosphere becoming heavy, Kyle forced himself to find a topic, “Well, I never expected… you’d be so good at taking care of people.”

“Of course. You have to understand that what you rescued from the enemy base wasn’t just a bundle of supplies.”

The girl stuck out her pink tongue, and perhaps she was recalling being tied to Kyle’s back that night—her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Besides, I have a name—Lucy Jane. Just call me Lucy.”

“Alright,” Kyle replied with a smile, letting Lucy gently and skillfully replace his bandages.

Soon, the attending doctor, who was also the deputy director, hurried into the ward to check Kyle’s injuries.

“Doctor, how is he?” Lucy asked, a bit nervously.

“He’s fine,” the doctor said with a smile, adjusting his glasses as he addressed Kyle. “It’s incredible—a normal person would need a month to recover from such wounds, but you’re nearly healed in just a week. In three more days, you can be formally discharged.”

“Three more days?” Kyle shrugged helplessly. What others saw as peak physical condition, he regarded as woefully insufficient.

The doctor, satisfied that Kyle’s injuries were no longer a concern, left the ward, pausing at the door to add, “By the way, an officer asked me to notify him when you woke up. I’ve already called him, so he should be here soon to visit you.”

An officer coming to visit?

Kyle scratched his head; it wasn’t hard to guess. He knew fewer than ten officers, and only one or two were close to him.

Not long after, the officer knocked and entered the ward. Kyle wore a look of complete certainty, but he feigned surprise and asked, “Officer Joseph, what brings you here?”

Indeed, the visitor was none other than Joseph, the hand-to-hand combat instructor from the training base who had let Kyle draw several green physique cards.

“You rascal, why wouldn’t I come!” Joseph laughed heartily, but seeing Lucy in the room, he coughed and composed himself, adopting a stern demeanor. “Ah, so you have family here?”

Lucy, peeling apples, lowered her head shyly and did not protest.