The moment Fenrir the giant wolf fell, deafening cheers erupted from the Allied Forces headquarters on the Western Front.
Soldiers threw away their helmets, hugging each other and weeping.
The generals, who had been gasping for breath under the pressure of the "Perfect Being" on the front lines, were also excitedly slamming the tables, distributing expensive cigars and whiskey to every staff officer.
Victory!
Soldier Boy and Human Torch.
These two "gods" pushed onto pedestals by Lynn had shredded Red Skull's trump card with an almost overwhelming posture.
News of the victory flew like snowflakes to all parts of the World.
The front pages of newspapers were occupied by photos of Soldier Boy laughing wildly while standing on the wreckage of mechs, and Human Torch descending like the Sun.
The public's fanaticism was pushed to an unprecedented peak.
"The God of War and the Guardian Angel have joined forces! The end of HYDRA has arrived!"
"God bless the United States! Victory belongs to us!"
"Vanguard! Repulsor Field Grenades have changed the war!"
Countless people poured into the streets, holding high flags printed with the logos of Soldier Boy, Human Torch, and even Vanguard, frantically celebrating this hard-won victory.
In the eyes of the public, the name Lynn Morris had already been tightly bound with victory, miracles, and the future.
However, in the command center of The Pentagon, the atmosphere was completely out of sync with the revelry outside.
There were no cheers here, only deathly silence.
The Minister of Defense held a document just faxed over from Vanguard Holdings.
His fingertips trembled slightly from the force.
It was a bill.
A list of war expenses, detailed to an infuriating degree.
"Repulsor Field Grenade, model PZ-N-01, unit price: 8,500 U.S. dollars. Consumption in this battle: 312 units. Total: 2,652,000 U.S. dollars."
"Sentinel exoskeleton armor (experimental), model S-01, single combat wear and maintenance cost: 1,200,000 U.S. dollars."
"Emergency air transport logistics support, route A-7, flight mileage and risk assessment fee: 780,000 U.S. dollars."
"Soldier Boy psychological trauma assessment and post-war recovery plan (provided by Vanguard Mental Health Department): budget 450,000 U.S. dollars."
"Human Torch energy output monitoring and data analysis service fee: 998,000 U.S. dollars."
...
Every expenditure was calculated down to the cent.
The dense numbers formed an astronomical figure that made every general present feel suffocated.
The Minister of Defense only felt the World go black before his eyes.
He felt that what he was looking at wasn't a bill, but rather the scene of a commercial behemoth named "Vanguard" opening its bloody maw and greedily tearing into the corpse of the war!
"This... this is robbery!"
A general in charge of Military supplies roared, his face flushed red.
"How dare he! How dare he treat war as a business!"
"Why wouldn't he dare?"
The Minister of Defense slammed the bill onto the table.
"He made the grenades, he provided the armor, and even the user manuals for those two 'gods' are in his hands! What do we have to refute this with?"
The entire command center was deathly silent.
The generals tasted the fruits of victory for the first time, only to find them so bitter.
They had won the war, yet felt they had lost everything.
Just then, the main screen automatically lit up.
The calm, detestable face of Lynn Morris appeared before everyone.
"Generals, congratulations to you, and congratulations to us, for achieving this great victory."
"Mr. Morris."
The Minister of Defense suppressed his anger.
"Regarding this bill..."
"Ah, the bill."
Lynn acted as if he had just remembered.
"The consumption of war is always huge, isn't it? In order to maintain the operation of the production lines, and to develop more advanced weapons to deal with the next crisis, Vanguard is also under great pressure."
He tapped the table lightly.
"However, I have always believed that money is not the only way to solve problems."
"For our longer-term cooperation, and for this country to recover from the trauma of war more quickly, I have a small suggestion."
"I hope... the Military can prioritize contracting some post-war reconstruction projects, such as port repairs in Europe, expansion of MilitaryBases, and transformation of abandoned industrial zones, to the construction and engineering subsidiaries under our Vanguard."
The dagger was revealed!
What he wanted wasn't money at all!
He wanted to use the debts of war to exchange for the national interests of the coming decades!
He wanted to extend the tentacles of "Vanguard" from the War Machine to every corner of this country's future!
"You are using victory to hold the entire country hostage!"
A hot-tempered Air Force general could no longer hold back and slammed the table as he stood up.
"General, please watch your language."
"I am offering a win-win solution. Or, would you prefer to see Vanguard have to pause all production lines for Military products due to a broken capital chain? Including... the cradle system that maintains the Captain's life."
A naked threat!
The Minister of Defense closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, only endless exhaustion and compromise remained.
"The committee... needs time to discuss."
"Of course." Lynn nodded with a smile, "My patience has always been good."
...
Lynn used the fanatical public opinion brought about by this great victory to rapidly launch his next plan.
He announced through The Stars and Stripes that the "Captain America Patriotic Foundation," led by him, would issue a new round of "Victory Bonds."
This time he didn't use those ethereal patriotic slogans.
"Every Victory Bond is not just support for the country, but an investment in the future!"
"Vanguard Holdings will provide revenue guarantees for this round of bonds! The future proceeds of the bonds will be partially linked to the profits of all subsidiaries under Vanguard Holdings, including pharmaceuticals, Military industry, and future post-war reconstruction projects!"
"Buying bonds is buying victory! Buying bonds is investing in the future! Let us share the fruits of victory together with the creators of heroes and miracles—Vanguard!"
This highly inflammatory declaration ignited the entire United States.
The public's worship of "Vanguard" had reached an almost blind level.
In their eyes, investing in "Vanguard" meant investing in the omnipotent Lynn Morris, and investing in a future that was bound to be glorious.
People swarmed the banks, waving cash, frantically snapping up "Victory Bonds."
Lynn sat in his office, watching the skyrocketing bond sales on the screen, his face devoid of any expression.
He picked up the phone and dialed Dr. Horton's number.
"How is the analysis of Steve's physical data coming along?"
Dr. Horton's excited voice came from the other end of the line: "Perfect! It's simply God's masterpiece! Boss, we can start the next step at any time!"
"Very good."
Lynn hung up the phone and turned his gaze to another screen.
On the screen was the image of Steve Rogers sleeping in the "Cradle" life-support pod.
His hero, his moral benchmark, his... perfect nanny.
Now, it is time for you to wake up, my good Captain.
However, before you wake up, I have to find something for you to do first.
Lynn's gaze moved slowly, landing on the map, on the scarlet mark representing the last fortress of HYDRA.
The Alps, the Rib of the Valkyrie.
Red Skull... your Ragnarok has finished playing out.
Now, it is time for my grand finale to take the stage.
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