Chapter Fifty-Three: One Night

Taka Bird Club, Main Hall.

The classical chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the wall sconces illuminated the ballroom in dazzling brightness. Elegant melodies flowed like water through the hall, winding gracefully amidst the guests, where gentlemen in suits and ladies in gowns danced lightly, lost in this haven far removed from the smoke and thunder of war.

Had the club not been reserved in its entirety, and had professional dancers not been disguised among the guests, Kyle’s entrance in his tailcoat would surely have provoked a stir, drawing the crowd’s fervent gaze.

Kyle—the youngest major in America’s military, the very symbol of American strength and conquest. Since the Hydra organization had been uprooted and annihilated, his name had once again become legend, spoken in every corner of Europe and America. Calling him a legend might be considered an exaggeration, but he had single-handedly shifted the tides of the European battlefield, dealing a crippling blow to Germany’s formidable military might during the war. In the eyes of American soldiers and some ardent admirers, Kyle was a true hero, his fame and prestige even eclipsing that of many generals.

While Europe remained relatively calm, back in America, his image was everywhere. In ten military recruitment films, at least six were devoted solely to him; the remaining four featured him fighting side by side with Captain Steve in wartime footage.

One could only imagine how powerful the aura of a war hero had become for Kyle.

——

Hope had dimmed, only to flicker back to life—the confident young man had kept his promise and returned.

Standing at the center of the ballroom, Carter gazed in silence as Kyle emerged from the parting crowd. For a moment, she found herself speechless.

Kyle, too, remained quiet, uncertain what to say. Finally, he drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t bring Steve back.”

The once lighthearted atmosphere instantly grew heavy.

Carter stepped closer, shaking her head. “You can’t blame yourself entirely. None of us could have foreseen what happened on that plane.”

“No, I should have foreseen some of it. I underestimated Schmidt. I thought—” Kyle’s words trailed off as Carter shook her head again, her voice soft. “Enough. It’s over.”

She extended her hand toward him, a glimmer of expectation in her beautiful eyes, her lips parting gently. “Steve asked you to take his place, to invite me for a dance. What took you so long? It’s been two weeks.”

“The sea was far. I’m late,” Kyle replied, giving a casual excuse. After a brief hesitation, he extended his hand as Howard would have, gentlemanly, and took Carter’s soft hand in his.

“You don’t know how to dance. I can teach you. Just don’t step on my shoes,” Carter said, preparing to lead him into the rhythm of the ballroom.

“That won’t be necessary.” Kyle couldn’t help but chuckle. There were few common skills in this world he hadn’t mastered, and if there were any, he could always draw a card and learn them instantly.

Especially since he possessed the green ability card “Ballroom Dancing,” which he had drawn from Carter herself, though until now, he’d never had the chance to use it.

Just then, the gentle tune in the hall faded, replaced by a brisk, passionate melody. Kyle immediately seized the initiative, guiding Carter with the flair of a professional. With exquisite control, he placed a single hand on her waist, lifting her lightly as they spun.

Carter quickly matched his steps, the hem of her red dress swirling with each turn.

A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes; she truly hadn’t expected that Kyle, so adept at battle, could also dance with such ease.

With one hand holding hers and the other at her slender waist, Kyle moved in perfect harmony with the swelling music. His athletic, flawless physique in the tailcoat easily outshone the frail gentlemen of the city’s sheltered life. Gone was the chill and violence of his black combat uniform, replaced by warmth and charm.

He and Carter, radiant and striking together, were a feast for the eyes. Their movements were sharp and energetic, seamlessly executed even with the most difficult steps, their hands and feet perfectly attuned to the music.

Unnoticed, the two had become the center of the ballroom, the admiring eyes of the crowd fixed upon them with astonished praise.

As the music ended, Kyle gently steadied Carter by the waist, bringing her to a graceful halt; she, in turn, pressed her palms lightly to his broad chest.

As if astonished by the perfection of their performance, the guests erupted in applause.

“So that’s it,” Kyle said with a shrug, withdrawing his hands.

A trace of disappointment flickered in Carter’s eyes as she slowly lowered her hands. “I never expected you could dance,” she said in wonder.

“Learned from my parents before I joined the army,” Kyle replied offhandedly. “Is there anything else you’d like to do? I happen to be free tonight.”

“Back to the front tomorrow?” Carter considered for a moment, then gathered her courage. “Well, let’s go have a drink.”

“A drink? With me?” Kyle looked at her in surprise. Wasn’t drinking something done between comrades or brothers-in-arms? Why would a man and woman drink together?

He hesitated, then asked, “You’re not really, as Steve said, fond of me, are you?”

Carter froze, avoiding his searching gaze, and waved her hand. “Of course not. You’re overthinking.”

“That’s good.” Kyle let out a breath, smiling in relief. “I knew it—Steve lied to me at the end. Even if he hadn’t said that, I would still have looked after you.”

“I don’t need you to look after me,” Carter shot him a glance, her tone cooling. “So, are we drinking or not?”

Kyle nodded. “Of course. It’s a rare chance to relax, why not?”

“Just don’t get drunk. I won’t be able to carry someone your size,” Carter snorted.

“Don’t worry. There’s no way that’ll happen,” Kyle replied dismissively. His super-soldier metabolism was four times that of a normal human—no ordinary alcohol could bring him down.

The next morning.

A gentle breeze stirred the white curtains at the window; golden sunlight poured into the room.

Kyle slowly awoke on the bed, his head still buzzing—a mild hangover from the previous night.

He had actually gotten drunk.

Lying spread-eagled under the covers, he chuckled wryly. It was a disgrace to his super-soldier reputation. He’d been so sure he couldn’t get drunk that he’d sampled every strong spirit, and by the time he realized his state, it was already too late.

Still, since he was resting, a bout of drunkenness to relieve wartime stress was hardly a problem. If he were on duty or awaiting orders, he would never have touched a drop.

“Come to think of it, Carter really had her hands full last night.”

Kyle pulled aside the covers and noticed his tailcoat was nowhere to be seen, replaced by the simple sleepwear provided by the club.

He vaguely remembered Carter, with the help of a few attendants, struggling to get him to his room, and that she had helped change his clothes.

And after that, there was nothing more.