Nanny-Type Talent

On the top-floor balcony of a luxury hotel.

Kyle looked directly at Logan and said thoughtfully, "Since we’re on the same side, I’ll be straightforward. I still have one test assignment for you. Only once you complete it will you truly count as a member of the Karl family."

"What assignment? Whether you want me to assassinate enemy officers or infiltrate foreign territory to obtain intelligence, neither would be a problem." Logan answered with cold confidence.

"The assignment is simple." A hint of amusement flickered in Kyle’s eyes as he said softly, "I’ll provide enough funding for you to rent a large manor outside New York by yourself. Then, under the name of fostering them, choose ten children between eight and ten years old from any orphanage in America and adopt them. Boys or girls, it doesn’t matter, as long as they’re healthy."

"Adopt ten children… me?" Logan’s mouth fell open as he stared blankly at the utterly serious Kyle.

Kyle nodded. "That’s right. It’s still wartime, and orphanages are so full of children who have lost their families that they can barely fit them all. Bribe the director a little. Forget ten children—even adopting twenty wouldn’t be difficult. Then have Howard help you hire a few nannies to handle three meals a day and clean the manor. Wouldn’t that settle it?"

"That’s not the problem. How am I supposed to adopt children?" Logan shook his head, his scalp tingling as he pointed at his cold, weathered face.

Look at this roguish villain’s face, then look at this physique and these abilities. He was clearly built for combat, so why was he being given a nanny-type assignment?

Kyle asked in return, "Why do you think you can’t do it?"

"I only know how to kill and fight. I don’t know anything about taking care of children. Give me another test assignment." Logan’s attitude was firm. He was a lone wolf, always hiding the sharpness of his claws. How could those hands gently guide and teach children?

"Logan, wouldn’t that make you the same as before?" Kyle smiled. "You lived alone for so many years, carrying hatred and malice by yourself. Burning, killing, plundering, scheming, murdering for loot, and then licking your wounds at night."

"When you killed Sabretooth in Germany, didn’t you say you wanted to cast aside that lonely, miserable life and become your true self again? If you don’t even dare accept this assignment and want to keep shutting yourself off while distancing yourself from others, then you’ll never return to who you were at the beginning. You’ll gradually become a second Sabretooth!"

Logan shuddered from head to toe after hearing that. His brows drew tightly together, and both hands gripped the iron balcony railing as he fell into thought.

After several minutes of silence, he finally relented. "I understand. I accept this test assignment."

"Good." Kyle quietly let out a breath. It truly had not been easy to persuade Logan to agree to take care of children.

This test assignment could both ease Logan’s excessive wariness toward others and lay an early foundation for the forces he would command in the future. It was killing two birds with one stone.

Besides, who said Uncle Wolf didn’t have a hidden talent for childcare?

Logan sighed softly. "I can’t guarantee I’ll do well, but I’ll do my best."

"Don’t worry. You only need to be the owner of the manor and let the adopted children live there. Nannies and cleaners can handle daily life, while Howard can hire professional tutors to teach them academic subjects. As for combat skills, we can talk about that later." Kyle reassured him. He only had one Super Agent Ability Card at the moment and could not grant abilities to enough people all at once.

Without someone who already possessed the Super Agent ability, he could not continuously draw blue ability cards and grant them to others.

Many things would still have to wait until after World War II ended before they could be planned and acted upon.

One night passed.

After resting in their separate rooms, the two did not meet up again and went their separate ways directly that morning.

Logan headed alone to Stark Industries Tower to collect the revised identification documents Howard had arranged for him, then began figuring out how to carry out the test assignment they had discussed the night before.

Kyle, meanwhile, thought that it was rare for him to return to New York during the war. Since General Chester had not yet sent soldiers with any orders, he happened to have time to see how Lucy, who was temporarily staying at his home, was doing.

Clicking his leather shoes as he strolled along the bustling modern streets, Kyle used the symbiotic Venom to make minor changes to his appearance. He wore a brand-new gentleman’s suit, a broad-brimmed hat that cast his face in shadow, and a pair of sunglasses.

He moved through the flowing crowds on the sidewalk like that, and no one recognized him.

Even if someone saw him and found him familiar, no one would dare believe that the War Hero they had seen on cinema screens and in countless newspapers would pass right before their eyes, so vividly woven into everyday life like an ordinary gentleman.

"Major General Kyle led more than two million Allied troops in the complete conquest of Germany and arrived at an American military base last night!"

Newsboys ran back and forth along the pedestrian streets from time to time, their cries of promotion passing by Kyle and making him lower the brim of his hat.

If he were recognized in the street, he would probably have to use his climbing ability to escape up a nearby building.

Kyle secretly sighed. He could no longer clearly say whether becoming famous as the first Superhero was a good thing or a bad thing. Still, from training a few soldiers to reaching this point today, his original goal had never been solely for the sake of others.

The greater the ability, the greater the responsibility? He should first take care of himself and seize control of his own life and fate!

That was why he had never been a true Superhero in the strict sense.

As he walked through the lively, bustling streets, Kyle suddenly stopped. He keenly sensed that something was off in the surroundings.

The various pedestrians around him still hurried past, yet they seemed like projected three-dimensional images, utterly devoid of life.

The cries of newsboys, the sounds of cars moving and honking, the trivial chatter of passersby—all those sounds seemed to pass through layers of spatial barriers and could not reach where he stood.

Before long, even their figures began to fade away in a hazy blur.

America, the American continent, even the entire world of Earth—only Kyle remained, standing silently alone on an empty New York street.

"Magic?" Kyle murmured. It was as though he had been transferred into another deserted space, yet the bizarre scene that had suddenly unfolded did not make him panic.

Panic was meaningless. The more one found oneself trapped in a situation beyond one’s control, the more calmly one had to think and face it.

"Not bad for the youngest major general since America’s founding…" An emotionless, somewhat androgynous female voice came lightly from behind him.

Kyle turned around calmly and saw that the speaker was a young woman in plain white robes with a shaved head.

"General Kyle. Allow me to briefly introduce myself. My name is ‘Ancient One,’ and I am a sorcerer," the woman said.