How should Fury handle this? He wasn't the one being proposed to!
"This Steve…" Fury muttered, slightly helpless. Captain America was abnormal, yes, but he wasn't breaking any rules.
Falling in love was normal. But proposing to the Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.—the head of agents? That was something else entirely.
"You figure it out. S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel also get marriage leave." Fury had no choice. Anger Captain, and his Avengers plans could be ruined.
Besides, if Hill married Steve, she could monitor him better—an added bonus. Fury snorted at his own cleverness. Brilliant.
Hill's eyes sparkled. She looked at Steve—not exactly in love yet, but she wasn't opposed.
After last night and this morning's experiences… perhaps having a husband like him wouldn't be bad.
Both working at S.H.I.E.L.D., watching out for each other—it made sense.
"I do!" Hill said, reaching for the bouquet of roses. Her cheeks flushed, her elegant nose accentuated her beauty—the ice mountain thawed, revealing breathtaking radiance.
Steve slid the ring onto her finger. "Hill, I'll treat you well my whole life. I will make you happy!"
"Steve, I will stay with you until we are old," Hill replied, smiling. Whether it was duty or genuine feeling, only she knew.
Next came buying a car and a house.
With Hill's authorization, the procedures were quickly completed.
The car was a brand-new Mercedes-Benz, and the house a villa in a wealthy district. Price? Ten million.
Normally, it would have cost one hundred million—but a Deputy Director's authority made things easier.
Having Hill as a wife was a relief!
That night, in Brooklyn—Night Rose nightclub.
Steve was a resident here, and decades had passed—things had changed. Nightlife meant nightclubs. Alone? Fishing for women. With a partner? A date.
Loud music roared, neon lights flashed, and spotlights rotated wildly. Men and women on the dance floor moved freely, shedding daytime masks in the dim lights.
Hill, a bit unaccustomed, didn't want to refuse her fiancé's invitation. She followed Steve onto the floor.
She disliked the noise, but seeing him twist and move to the music, hands drumming and eyes closed, she couldn't help but smile.
A graceful, short-haired beauty moved closer, subtly avoiding wandering hands on the floor. She approached Steve, noticing Hill's gaze—and smiled.
The two nodded in silent agreement.
Natasha Romanoff—Black Widow.
Steve seemed unaware, simply dancing with abandon. Could he dance? No. Did it matter at a nightclub? Also no.
Twist and turn. Formality wasn't required—happiness was.
In a distant booth, Fury and Coulson watched, gradually engrossed.
Steve's tall, muscular frame attracted women on the dance floor.
Many leaned against him, intentionally or not, creating ambiguity.
Fury sipped his drink, black lines forming on his forehead. "Coulson, don't you think Captain is… strange?"
"That's what happens after being single for decades," Coulson said, a devoted Captain America fanboy.
As Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., he collected Captain America memorabilia. Seeing his idol in person—even under these circumstances—was thrilling.
Steve's "good impression halo" worked. In the dim light, women experienced in romance immediately recognized his potential.
Strong, handsome, and confident—definitely not a pushover.
Hill, displeased, moved closer to shield her fiancé. Even with a work-related aura, Steve's charm was undeniable, and her feelings deepened.
"Ding! Modern Life mission complete. Reward: Tarot Qi Gong."
A surge of knowledge flooded Steve's mind. Fainting was almost possible—but the Super Soldier Serum had strengthened his body and brain.
Otherwise, learning tactical command and combat techniques so quickly would be impossible.
Tarot Qi Gong allowed practitioners to generate Qi—internal energy requiring continuous cultivation.
Qi could enhance physical fitness, turning ordinary people into Super Soldiers. Combined with a Super Soldier's abilities, the effect was exponential.
"Hey buddy, you're dancing great!"
A man in sunglasses twisted nearby, laughing and flirting.
Hill leaned toward Steve's ear. "Husband, that's Tony Stark, Chairman of Stark Industries, Howard's son."
Iron Man… at a nightclub?
Steve was dumbfounded. He had met the future Iron Man at a nightclub?
"Oh, haha, I'm new to this. Buddy, you're dancing well too—have fun!"
Tony shrugged. As a playboy, he'd interacted with many women. A nightclub visit was completely normal.
No wonder Fury and Coulson were here—they were surveilling Tony.
Steve had read news and surfed the web. Tony's identity as Iron Man had never been public.
Suddenly, the fire sprinkler above them activated.
A crimson liquid gushed out, drenching the crowd.
The stage's sound engineer grabbed the microphone, wearing a bikini, and jumped, shouting, "Oh! Hunting time has begun! Let's get wild!"
Shouts filled the air as men and women twisted even more wildly. Many raised their mouths, tasting the liquid.
Steve immediately pulled Hill off the dance floor. He smelled something wrong.
Hill also noticed—a faint, metallic smell in the air.
Looking up, she realized the fire pipe was spraying… blood?