Hero Returns

In May 1944, near the end of World War II, the United States dropped two experimental nuclear bombs on the Tokyo region of Japan!

These weapons, capable of altering the course of the world war and deterring the destruction of every nation, made their first appearance on Earth. Their indiscriminate, carpet-like explosions and inhumane radiation far surpassed any natural disaster or viral plague seen before!

The entire world was shaken!

Already forced toward surrender by Kyle, Japan wasted no more time after the nuclear strike and announced its unconditional surrender to the world within a day of the bombing!

Japan’s withdrawal from the Asian front also meant that World War II in the history of Marvel Earth had finally come to an end.

People across the world rejoiced. The long-awaited era of peace had finally arrived.

Every street and alley in American cities was decorated with lights and banners, fireworks bursting everywhere. The celebrations were more than ten times grander than Christmas, and most civilians celebrated without sleep for three days and three nights.

Yet during that time, they had certainly not forgotten the greatest contributor to world peace—War Hero Kyle!

After World War II ended, countless people waited expectantly and patiently for three days, but the New York military still gave no sign of Kyle’s return.

Countless reporters seeking interviews were turned away from the White House and military bases, forbidden from asking about the matter. Amid their excitement and joy, the public finally sensed that something was wrong.

"Why hasn’t General Kyle returned yet?"

"Even if the transport fighter was delayed, it should have reached the Americas by now, right?"

"God, why hasn’t our Superhero returned…?"

"Where is General Chester? Isn’t the military going to give us an explanation?"

From the elderly to young children, Americans waited and hoped every day. Within just a few days, the topic of postwar peace had been overshadowed by "Hero Kyle Has Not Returned," while other countries watched and discussed it as well.

The senior American officials felt they could no longer keep it from the public and were preparing to devise an excuse, but just then, an intelligence report began spreading from an unknown source.

"When the American military dropped two nuclear bombs on Tokyo, Japan, Major General Kyle was still fighting there. No one sent a transport fighter to contact or retrieve him in advance!"

As soon as the news began circulating in New York, senior American officials realized something was wrong and tried to suppress it. Yet they had still underestimated the public’s intense attention toward anything related to Kyle.

In less than half a day, the news exploded across the American mainland like a massive nuclear bomb. While countless civilians remained half-doubtful, an enormous uproar erupted.

"My God, if that’s true, then Major General Kyle couldn’t have…"

"A War Hero can’t be killed! How could he die at the hands of his own people?!"

"His own people? I’m afraid the nation’s higher-ups never considered him one of their own."

"The White House hasn’t made a statement. Could they be tacitly admitting it?"

"This matter must be explained to us civilians!"

On the morning of the second day after the news spread, countless emotional civilians flooded into major cities such as New York and Washington. Local groups organized themselves, holding signs of all sizes as they marched through the streets, paralyzing traffic throughout the cities. The sea of people surrounded the White House in Washington and the New York military base so tightly that not even water could pass through.

Senior American officials panicked and immediately mobilized city police and military personnel to maintain order and quell the massive unrest. But they discovered that many soldiers and police officers had taken temporary leave, while some had simply resigned, put on bright jackets, raised questioning signs, and joined the marches.

Only then did the senior American officials fully realize just how great the influence of Kyle alone was.

As the War Hero who had ended World War II and ushered in world peace, his prestige had undoubtedly reached a terrifying peak that even gods would avoid. With such disgraceful news emerging at this moment, how could countless civilians not rage in fury?

At the top floor of Stark Industries, Howard, dressed like a refined gentleman, leaned against the balcony railing and looked down at the densely packed crowd on the streets below. He silently lit a cigarette.

"The strength of mortals, rivaling the gods—you really did it. But why did you leave and never return, just like Steve?"

"I had even thought that when I had a child someday, I would definitely make you the child’s godfather."

"Even our promise to drink ourselves senseless after the war, create Artificial Intelligence, develop new energy elements, and build a business empire of weapons and technology… are you going to break all those promises too?"

Howard muttered to himself, letting out heavy sighs as he lowered his head and smoked in silence. The smoke he exhaled drifted away with the wind.

Beep— Just then, the phone in his suit pocket rang.

"How annoying." Howard irritably stubbed out his cigarette, then suddenly froze for half a second at the sound of the ringing.

Wait. Who else could be calling him now, besides that person?

Howard jolted, fumbling to pull the old-fashioned phone from his pocket. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, he answered it with slightly trembling fingers.

"Howard?" Kyle’s usual cool voice came through the phone.

"Kyle, it really is you!" Howard burst into laughter, his eyes slightly damp as he forcefully kissed the old-fashioned phone.

"Whoa, don’t be so disgusting. Go get horny around your bunny girls." Kyle spoke with a shudder of revulsion. After only two weeks apart, this old gentleman had become increasingly improper.

"Wasn’t I just excited, buddy?" Howard said, both irritated and saddened. "The war’s been over for more than a week, and you still hadn’t returned. I thought you’d really gotten hit by one of those nuclear bombs!"

Kyle said, "Sorry, but I really did get hit by one."

Howard said, "…"

He hesitated for a moment before asking tentatively, "Kyle, are you a man or a ghost right now?"

"Bullshit. You’re a scientific talent—why do you believe in ghosts and gods? I’m already outside Central City in New York. There are too many people, and traffic is completely paralyzed, so I can’t get in. Send that private aircraft of yours to pick me up." Kyle replied irritably.

The last time Kyle had briefly discussed the concept and structure of helicopters with Howard, he had learned before heading to Japan that Howard had already begun modifying the framework of a small transport fighter, creating the first compact and convenient half-helicopter for personal use.

It had to be said that having a technological genius for a friend, someone with brilliant and forward-thinking ideas as well as maxed-out practical skills, showed its advantages perfectly at times like this.

"New York traffic is paralyzed because civilians caused all this for you." Howard grumbled into the phone. Knowing that Kyle had returned safely, all his earlier gloom and sorrow vanished without a trace.

Howard laughed. "I heard that the new president, the senators, and the military higher-ups have been forced by the unprecedented marchers to gather at the White House plaza in Washington. They’re about to hold a press conference and publicly provide an explanation."

"That intelligence report was…" Kyle had barely begun speaking when Howard understood what he wanted to ask. Smiling, he said, "That’s right. Nick Fury and I deliberately spread that intelligence report. We wanted to use the power of the people to pressure the senior American officials and seek justice for you!"

Warmth filled Kyle’s heart. After a brief pause, he said coldly into the phone, "Fly the helicopter over and take me straight to the White House plaza. It’s time to clean up some little rats who like playing dirty tricks behind the scenes."

Now that he had returned, why did he need justice? In this world, whoever had the bigger fist made the rules!