Chapter 4864

After Mephisto entered, he was just as impolite, sitting down squarely and then giving those generals a sidelong glance: "What do you want from me?"

Before the general could even speak, Mephisto wanted to say first: "Can't you guys get down to some real work? By real work I don't mean going somewhere to arrest some poor sap for execution, or building a few more U. S. bases somewhere. Have you guys even thought about Xinggang? China just launched another starship. What about you?"

The ones who most wanted to cover his mouth weren't the generals, but Steve, because Shiler's surprised tone came through the earpiece again: "Were you like that when you were young, Steve?"

"I'm really too lazy to argue with you guys." Mephisto said, "You don't really think the movie's huge success has anything to do with your profound insights, do you? That's as ridiculous as you claiming the Soviet Union's collapse was your achievement. You have time to gather here and talk nonsense, but no time to find a reliable supplier for those helmets of yours that break at the slightest tap. Truly unreasonable..."

Steve's lips twitched; he really wanted Mephisto to shut up. Of course, he didn't disagree with Mephisto's words—the problem was this guy's imitation was just too spot-on.

When Steve Rogers was young, he was a hot-headed youth, and Bucky knew that best. Even before he'd undergone the enhancement, he was daily concerned with national affairs, voicing his opinions on the political and military situation, regardless of whether anyone listened.

And Steve's current silence is golden, and not entirely because he's cautious, but as his age and experience have grown, he's realized his political talent isn't actually that great, and many of his views aren't very mature. Now that his status is high, if he rashly voiced an opinion, it might stir up public discourse, so he tries as much as possible to avoid speaking publicly.

Meanwhile, Mephisto has no such reservations—he truly says whatever he wants, pointing at the land, invigorating the text. Five generals with over twenty stars between them were dressed down by him like dogs.

Listening to him spout madness there, Steve couldn't help but press his temples. He whispered to Shiler: "This is Mephisto's opinion, not mine. Just hear it out and be done with it."

"Don't you think what he says makes sense?" Shiler said, "I'm certain this absolutely isn't coming from Mephisto's identity. He's immersed in role-playing your younger self, clearly speaking in Captain America's tone."

"Does it make sense?" Steve doubted, "It feels like empty talk to me. Whether a starship can be launched or not isn't for the military to decide—there's also NASA and the federal government..."

"You just don't get it. Sometimes whether a slogan is shouted correctly matters more than whether it can be implemented. Looks like he's blaming the military for inaction, causing the starship launch delay, but actually, he's getting these generals to blast the federal government and NASA for inaction."

"What's the use of that?"

"For military funding." Shiler said, "As long as we can pin the blame on the federal government and NASA's inaction causing delays, we can pressure them to roll the starship construction costs into the military budget, letting the military take charge of this."

Steve sucked in a breath of cold air: "That would be a total disaster! This can't happen!"

"It won't succeed anyway." Shiler said, "Those two sides aren't pushovers, especially with NASA backed by Stark Industries and S. H. I. E. L. D. How would they let the military have its way?"

"Then why do it?"

"By lure of profit." Shiler continued, "Filming the movie is to promote the military, and promoting the military is to get military funding. If we could directly take the starship's budget as military funds, who would still care about the movie? Filming costs money, but directly seizing the starship's budget brings in money. Who would refuse imminent cash?"

Steve had a sudden realization: "Oh, that's how it is."

As expected, those few generals had already begun beaming, exchanging glances. Mephisto pretended not to notice, still ranting there. In the end, the generals pretended to be impatient and drove him out, and along with him came Steve.

Stepping outside, Mephisto changed expression, fully resuming his devilish demeanor. Steve watched him make that face with his own features, feeling his eyes sting, and turned away not to look.

"What did they want you for?" Mephisto asked.

"Oh, I get it." Steve hadn't even finished speaking when Mephisto asked and answered himself, "They're not trying to get you to film a sequel, are they? Their calculations are pretty good. You'd better not agree to them."

Steve had no intention of agreeing anyway, but he insisted on pressing further, wanting to see what excuse this devil could come up with: "Why? I'm the real Captain America."

"I won't bother with those obvious points." Mephisto said, "After all, you can figure it out yourself—they don't truly want you to act, they just want to use you to manipulate me. The key point is, you can't stop them from altering the script, and the film will end up a mess. You might not care about your own life being slandered, but what about your comrades? Those brave warriors who fought and died on the front lines? Do you want to watch them become stepping stones for these people's power grabs, portrayed in the film as cowardly, sneaky villains who cling to life?"

Steve's face changed instantly. But soon he realized, Mephisto was indeed formidable, able to precisely grasp human weaknesses.

Actually, regarding how others interpret him, Steve no longer cares much. Especially concerning war-related parts, he clearly understands what war gave him outweighs what he sacrificed in it.

Those truly brave warriors who fought and killed the enemy all died on the battlefield, and the lucky survivors are plagued by illness and injury. Meanwhile, I, who clearly made no major contribution, have reaped vast fame. In midnight dreams years later, he too has felt guilty.

Steve absolutely cannot accept anyone slandering his comrades. Whether it's former teammates who fought shoulder-to-shoulder with him, or those he never met who died in the Normandy landings or other brutal frontlines.

If God stands with him, then He made Steve Rogers survive and gave him his mission: to speak for those who can no longer speak due to sacrifice, to stand up and protect them. The widow of a great nation cannot be, but he will forever be the most faithful widower of that war's fallen souls.

Mephisto keenly caught this point, laid out conditions Steve couldn't refuse, and let him see why the devil is a devil—because he's skilled enough at bewitching hearts.

With that reason, Steve could under no circumstances participate in this film series again. For he knows he might truly be unable to stop these people from altering the script, nor deliver that lifelike performance. Even if not for himself, but for the equally richly crafted, moving supporting characters in the film, he can only let Mephisto play the role well.

Steve patted Mephisto's shoulder, sighed, and left. On the way back, he told Shiler: "I'm afraid I really don't have such talent. I can't instantly spot their weaknesses. This really feels like a superpower, doesn't it?"

"No doubt, it is a superpower." Shiler told Steve, "I said Mephisto doesn't need superpowers meaning he won't slap someone into a wall so hard they can't be pried loose, but I didn't say he doesn't use mind-reading."

"Too bad the soldier serum didn't grant me this ability." Steve felt some regret, "They should really study it more."

"It's not that simple." Shiler continued, "Just reading thoughts and ideas isn't enough. Even if you could see all memories, you'd still need the ability to summarize and refine, to analyze the other's personality, to grasp their weakness. This isn't something any serum can achieve."

"But..." Shiler drew out a long vowel, "there isn't no solution, depending on whether you want to do it this way."

Steve was about to refuse, but Shiler didn't give him the chance, immediately saying: "I also believe America will get better, but it matters whose hands it improves through. You represent the sacrificed generation—more sacrifice means more right to change. Your labor, youth, and life only bought a rotting corpse. You are the most entitled to weep, mourn, bury it, and let it be reborn."

Steve fell silent, beginning to reflect, as if recalling many past things. The dock laborers hurrying past their Brooklyn doorstep, soldiers laughing and joking in the army, the old woman waiting at her doorstep for her child's return...

As long as history's river keeps flowing downstream, every generation is a sacrificed one. The difference is merely whether we pile up the previous generation's bones to stand on, avoiding the rush of the torrent, building nation and civilization, or casually dump them in the mud, letting this generation also rot in the dirt until no usable bones remain, swallowed by history's flood, leaving not a trace.

Steve Rogers is a transverse bone left from America's golden age, yet they always treat him like a fishbone stuck in the throat rather than this nation's backbone. Must we, after watching other remnants be swept away by the current, still willingly lie down, be buried in silt, and watch generation after generation of descendants, finding no foothold in the chaos, drown helplessly?

Steve's mood grew heavy, so he sought out his good brother. This time not Bucky, but Nick. They are contemporaries, sharing much common ground on this.

"You know, I'll always support you." Nick said, "I've never believed Captain America is powerless to change; you're just unwilling to do it. You have an avoidance mindset, feeling unequal to the task, but we both know that's not true."

"You think I'm too humble?" Steve took a sip of beer and asked.

"He isn't." Shiler said in his earpiece, "He's saying you lack self-confidence. Lack of confidence and humility are two different things."

"War's impact on you far exceeds your imagination." Nick turned to look at him, patting his wrist with his hand, "War makes one feel excessively insignificant. When you're lying in the trench, hearing shells scream overhead and the cries of those around you, you feel utterly useless, incapable of anything. Sacrifice and death are too heavy; those who bear them always feel they'll be crushed under the weight—quite normal, really."

"Do you think even after bearing these, I can still do something?"

"He thinks that because you bear these burdens, you should all the more act." Shiler added, "Some things are burdens when carried on the back, but when held in hand, they become invincible weapons."

"If you've known this world since the war began, then your lifelong pursuit is to make everyone's sacrifice more meaningful." Nick braced his hand on the bar, turned sideways to look at Steve, "We're all striving for this, each doing our part. If you truly act, you'll find this is the best way to remember—weeping and complaining never are."

"I've never started." Steve said, "I know full well what I've already done doesn't even count as effort. Due to lack of confidence, I've delayed many things I should have begun."

"You don't need to lack confidence." Shiler said again, "You still have me. As long as you don't take off the earpiece, we share one brain. Don't you believe me?"

"I haven't asked you for help—I just trust you too much. Can you restrain yourself a bit? I'm begging you."

"I promise to be as painless as possible." Shiler laughed, "At least you and those who truly want to make this country better will be painless."