Lynn's smile was clearly discernible in the dim tent.
"Certainly, Colonel. Twisting off the heads of the German Army, that's why we're here."
Phillips' expression did not relax in the slightest.
He scrutinized the young man before him, his gaze attempting to pierce through skin and flesh to see the calculations hidden within the bones.
"Then, what are your terms, Mr. Morris?"
"He is not a soldier."
Lynn held up a finger and shook it gently.
"You cannot constrain him with military rules. Orders, discipline, schedules—these are all nonsense to him. What he needs is… satisfaction."
"Satisfaction?"
"The best food, the best liquor, the most comfortable bedding."
With every word Lynn spoke, Phillips' brow furrowed a little tighter.
"And freedom of action. Colonel, you just need to provide the target; he will decide the method of combat. If you respect him, he can create miracles for you. If you want to put a collar on him, I guarantee, he will tear the person holding the leash to shreds first."
These words made the air in the tent grow taut.
Phillips glanced at Soldier Boy, whose face was written with impatience. The dangerous aura radiating from that man caused the guards in his tent to instinctively tighten their grips on their guns.
Soldier Boy sensed that tension.
He grinned and squeezed the glass in his hand until it creaked, the crisp sound of shattering glass piercingly loud in the silent tent.
Phillips' eyelid twitched, and he remained silent for a full half-minute.
"Deal!"
He took a map from his drawer and forcefully drew a circle on it.
"Sainte-Mère-Église, a frontline communication hub for the German Army. They've converted the church in the town center into a fortress. The snipers and observation posts in the bell tower are like motherfucking vipers; they've taken out over thirty of our men in two days."
Phillips looked up, his eyes bloodshot, filled with a complex light mixed with anger and expectation.
"I want you to take it out for me."
"No problem, Colonel."
Lynn stood up.
"Also, prepare a camera for me, and make sure there's plenty of film."
"At a time like this, you're still thinking about your news?"
"I am a reporter; this is my job."
Lynn met Phillips' scrutiny calmly.
"Colonel, faith needs witnesses, and fear also needs to be spread."
"Photographs are a more effective weapon than bullets. I want every printed newspaper to become our propaganda flyer, making every officer in Berlin imagine how Soldier Boy will tear through their defensive lines before they go to sleep."
...
The jeep bumped along the muddy dirt road, mud splattering and coating the windshield.
"Just a church?"
Soldier Boy leaned against the passenger seat, boredly fiddling with his triangular shield.
"I thought there would at least be an entire armored regiment waiting for me. Boring."
"The audience is more important than the stage."
Lynn, who was driving, did not look at him.
"Soldiers need a miracle. Today, you must not only be a Destroyer, but also a savior."
The car stopped behind a makeshift bunker two kilometers from the town.
In the distance, the silhouette of Sainte-Mère-Église loomed in the rain.
Dense gunfire rang out from time to time.
A few U.S. soldiers saw them, their faces revealing an expression mixed with curiosity and awe.
Lynn pointed to a civilian house ahead that had been half-demolished by an explosion.
A medic wearing a Red Cross armband was groaning in pain, pinned under a concrete slab.
His companion was beside him, sweating profusely with anxiety, but helpless to do anything.
"Go there first."
"What?" Soldier Boy frowned. "My target is the church, not to play the damn Boy Scout."
"The church is the target, but those soldiers are the audience."
Lynn's voice lowered.
"If you charge in directly, they will only think you are a useful killing machine. But if you save people first, they will treat you like a god."
"Now, you only need to lift a hand to receive the most genuine adoration."
Soldier Boy did not retort.
He felt that the kid had a point.
Under the shocked gazes of the surrounding soldiers, he strode toward the ruins.
He merely extended one hand and effortlessly lifted the concrete slab weighing several tons, tossing it aside casually.
"Click!"
Lynn pressed the shutter at just the right moment.
In the photo, the tall "hero" held up the massive stone with one hand.
And at his feet was the medic, his face full of the relief of having survived a disaster and gratitude.
Perfect composition.
Perfect story.
On the surrounding U.S. positions, an uncontrollable burst of exclamations and cheers erupted.
"My God…"
"He did it! He actually did it!"
The rescued medic, ignoring the severe pain in his leg, struggled to say something to Soldier Boy.
His lips moved, finally coalescing into only one sentence: "Thank you… sir…"
Soldier Boy stood there, listening to those heartfelt praises and cheers.
This feeling was wonderful, completely different from the fan meet-and-greets arranged by Vought International.
Those screams were rehearsed, fake.
But these before him were from the heart, stemming from the most primal awe and gratitude.
This kind of adoration made him feel more satisfied than any PR release.
He subconsciously puffed out his chest; the aura of violence on his face dissipated a little, and he even gave an unnatural grunt toward the medic.
Lynn watched this scene, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned.
Very good, the Beast has begun to taste the sweetness of "humanity."
Having finished enjoying the adoration, Soldier Boy swept his gaze toward the towering church bell tower in the distance.
Without even needing Lynn's reminder, he charged straight toward the center of the town.
The German Army snipers on the bell tower immediately spotted him, a living target running wild in the no-man's-land.
Bullets hit Soldier Boy's body, unable to even make him pause for a second.
He did not use the door.
Under the gaze of countless eyes, Soldier Boy slammed his shoulder hard into the church's ancient stone wall!
"Boom!"
Rubble flew, and dust filled the air.
The sturdy wall was forcibly smashed open, creating a large, irregular hole.
From inside the church came the terrified screams of German Army soldiers and the futile roar of machine guns.
The next second, a German Army soldier was thrown out from the second-floor stained-glass window of the church, crashing to the ground.
Immediately after, the gunfire turned into the crisp sound of bones breaking and screams.
Finally, everything returned to silence.
When the smoke cleared.
Everyone saw a German Army flag being torn down from the top of the bell tower, fluttering as it fell.
Immediately after, Soldier Boy's silhouette appeared at the very top of the bell tower.
He stood on the edge, holding his shield, overlooking the entire battlefield.
The setting sun happened to pierce through the clouds, and the golden afterglow shone on him, casting a holy halo over him.
"Click! Click! Click!"
Lynn calmly pressed the shutter continuously, freezing this scene forever.
The entire U.S. position was first dead silent.
Then, a deafening roar of cheers erupted!
"Hurrah!!"
"God bless the United States!!"
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