American comics: This guy is crazy.

Chapter 40: Captain America Before He Became Captain America

"Hello, I am Howard Stark, in charge of mechanical engineering."

"Hello, I am Abraham Erskine, in charge of bioengineering."

"Hello, I'm Allen, and I'm in charge of cleaning."

Allen crossed his arms, his right hand holding Howard's left hand and his left hand holding Dr. Erskine's right hand.

The two men had very strange expressions. They had heard that an expert with a mental problem was coming, but they didn't expect that they would be unable to keep up with his speech as soon as he started talking.

Wilson pointed to his head, noting, "There's something wrong with him here."

The two nodded in agreement.

Those who are at the top in their respective fields should let their true abilities speak for themselves.

It's okay for experts and PhDs to be a little crazy, as long as they have insights on the same issues and can help each other.

If it's all show and no substance, it will eventually be kicked out of S.H.I.E.L.D.

After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't keep idle people around.

"Dr. Allen, we are exploring a project to enhance the limits of human physical capabilities. I wonder if you have any opinions?" Dr. Erskine asked casually.

This disheveled old man is the person in charge of developing the super serum.

Howard could only assist from the sidelines, helping to build a device that could fuse serum.

"If you don't have enough strength, make up for it with equipment. A rocket launcher in the left hand, a Gatling gun in the right, and a shout of 'Hurrah!' and you won't be afraid of Thanos," Allen said with utmost seriousness.

"Sorry, I'm busy."

Dr. Erskine's expression changed, and he turned to go to his work area.

He was not only slovenly, but also had an eccentric personality.

Howard reassured him, "Dr. Erskine only likes to deal with experts with whom he shares a common language."

"It's just super soldier serum, anyone can do the same thing."

Allen looked disdainful, but couldn't help clenching his arms. Suddenly, a bold idea popped into his mind.

"You even know how to develop serum?"

Howard's eyes lit up, and he thought about finding out more about Allen.

"If I simmer it for a while, I can cook a whole pot."

Alchemists don't have potion-making skills.

The potion is just a foul-smelling, thick soup that an old witch boils in a pot with spices.

This is how Allen understood it.

Howard frowned, wondering if the other party had misunderstood. He kindly reminded him, "In a month, high-ranking military officials will visit. As long as you can produce results, you can obtain substantial financial support."

"That was specially prepared for me."

Allen said confidently, "I'll show them something really awesome then."

After familiarizing with colleagues, I moved to my designated work area.

There are many tools on display; they can be brought to you if needed.

Wilson's eyes lit up as he looked at the rows of precision miniature lathes.

"Allen, the precision lathes provided by S.H.I.E.L.D. are more than two levels higher than those of the Soviet Union."

Wilson stroked the machine and couldn't help but sigh, "No wonder America is technically superior. The experts here not only have theoretical knowledge, but also corresponding practical skills."

However, Allen showed no interest whatsoever and sat listlessly in his chair.

"Allen, what should we do first?"

Having confirmed Allen's true abilities, Wilson dared not presume to teach him any more tricks and hoped to see even more advanced inventions and creations.

"Slacking off".

"Slacking off?"

Allen said in a serious tone, "If you don't slack off at work, does it even count as working?"

"..."

That makes so much sense, I'm speechless.

In an instant, Wilson's enthusiasm for work vanished, and Allen slumped onto the sofa.

"It must be fun slacking off at work, right?" Allen asked, showing his front teeth.

"Mmm, that feels great."

Wilson readily admitted that at his age, he had never really enjoyed life.

"Ah Sen, it's lunchtime. Take a look at the cafeteria food."

"OK."

From that day forward, S.H.I.E.L.D. gained two more idle individuals.

Arrive at work on time, drink coffee, and lie on the sofa waiting for dinner.

When Howard asked, Allen replied that he was designing a new weapon.

Wilson naturally replied, "I'm just an assistant, what can I do?"

Less than three days later, Colonel Chester Phillips, one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D., brought a short, thin young man.

"He is Steve Rogers, my chosen super soldier."

Carter, Howard, Erskine, Allen, Wilson, and others looked at the thin and shy future Captain America.

Colonel Phillips' decision was immediately met with opposition.

Dr. Erskine said seriously, "Colonel, you are playing with his life. He is so small and thin that he cannot withstand the serum at all. He will most likely die from genetic collapse."

He is an expert in the field of biology, and no one is qualified to give him pointers.

"I value Steve's personal character; he dares to stand up to authority and is willing to make sacrifices. He is the most suitable candidate," Colonel Phillips said firmly.

Even when faced with the towering figure, Steve did not give up the fight.

Steve shielded his teammates by pressing down on a grenade with his own body, willingly making a sacrifice.

Based on these two points alone, Colonel Phillips concluded that he was the future Captain America.

"Boss, I support you."

Allen walked up to Steve, shook his hand, and said, "Hey old Deng, where's your 'kib'?"

"..."

Steve paused for a moment, then realized: "You mean Bucky? He's training in the military."

"Forget about your dick, old man, I promise I'll make you a muscular hunk with a great ass."

"..."

Steve's shy personality made him somewhat at a loss when facing Allen.

The crowd naturally ignored Allen; they were the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D., and had already decided in their hearts to give him another month of observation, or to kick him out after he had freeloaded.

The argument was quite heated.

Ultimately, Colonel Phillips used his power to decide on the candidates for super soldiers.

A lot happened in those three days.

S.H.I.E.L.D. began arranging the serum enhancement program.

Soviet and Hydra agents infiltrating America have already made secret contact with Allen.

Allen, who was eager to become a triple agent, readily accepted the invitation and brought back a small telegraph machine that could transmit information between the two factions.

Allen directly revealed the serum project.

The unusually quiet Allen is brewing an even bigger prank.

Life is either about making a scene or preparing to make a scene.

Day four, before the super soldier experiment begins.

"Old Deng, don't be afraid, everyone has a first time."

Allen pointed at the machine and comforted him, "If you lie in there, it will malfunction and you'll be cremated in no time."

Steve's previously calm heart immediately turned uneasy.

The instrument is like a pharaoh's pipe, connected to numerous electrical wires. I'm really worried about electric leakage or fire; if that happens, there will be no way to escape.

Allen pointed at Howard, who was adjusting and checking the equipment, and said, "Trust Howard's skills. If there's a problem, he'll bury the machine and the person behind it, ensuring there's no way to prove anything."

"Can you put it in a better way?"

Steve looked miserable, and even considered quitting.

Unfortunately, it was too late. With high-ranking military officials and representatives from all walks of life present to observe, he had no choice but to accept the situation. Moreover, Colonel Phillips would definitely force him into the instrument.

"On the bright side, once the serum takes effect, the asymmetry in breast size and the fact that one side of your buttocks might be rounder than the other are not major problems. I know Dr. Chelsea from the Assassin's Creed; she can add some silicone padding so that it's impossible to tell you've had work done."

"You're really good at comforting people."

Steve: o(╥﹏╥)o

(End of this chapter)