Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Red Chamber's Mission Objective

Inside the office reserved for commanding officers aboard the colossal battleship.

“Kyle, I’ve brought you all the personnel files for the medical staff you requested,” Fury said, carrying a stack of documents bound together as he entered the room and placed them on the desk.

Kyle, seated in his chair, gave a cold nod and took the files, leafing through them one by one.

Fury stood at the front of the desk, looking at Kyle with a puzzled expression. He remarked, “I thought you’d finally seen sense and wanted to take charge of your duties as a major general yourself—so why are you suddenly so interested in the ship’s medical officers?”

“I came across a rather interesting person,” Kyle replied casually, eyes narrowing slightly as he found the personnel file he was searching for.

On the file was a black-and-white portrait of the female medic he’d just encountered, her smile radiant.

Satana Caroline:

Female, age 16, height 165 cm, weight 43 kg.

Born in 1928, home at B012, Atlanta District, USA.

Current family status: single; both parents are local farm laborers.

A student at the Holy Order Medical School; applied as a volunteer for frontline support in January 1944 and became a military medic in February.

“Sixteen years old, just became a medic this month…” Kyle raised an eyebrow, tossing the file onto the desk and asked impassively, “She’s not even an adult, and only became a military medic this month—is she really allowed to join a major battle on a battleship?”

“That’s not so unusual,” Fury remarked, rubbing his bald head. “During World War II, there were exceptions to everything. There was always a shortage of medical staff, so hospitals and schools often ran recruitment drives for volunteers. Over one hundred fifty thousand American troops are involved in this operation—mostly army personnel—so every ship needs a team of medics.”

Kyle remained silent, his fingers tapping the desk as if deep in thought.

Fury, shrewd as ever, glanced at the personnel file, his voice grave. “Is there something wrong with this female medic?”

“There’s a bit of an issue, but you needn’t concern yourself. Leave it to me,” Kyle replied, issuing a secret order to Fury.

“I understand.” Fury nodded, then left the office as instructed.

Kyle stacked the files, placed them in the drawer, and a cold smile crept to his lips. “Let’s see what tricks the Soviets hope to play by sending an untrained agent here.”

Meanwhile, inside the ship’s infirmary.

“Nana, I heard you almost ran right into Major General Kyle!?”

“Hey, is it true? Is Major Kyle really as cold and handsome as the documentaries say?”

“Is that the point? Be careful, don’t cause trouble for the general next time!”

Four young nurses in white uniforms chattered animatedly, blushing as they spoke.

Satana finished bandaging her slender leg, seated on a single hospital bed, gazing through the round glass window at the deep blue sea, lost in silent contemplation.

Plan A—the bridge encounter—had ended in failure.

Recalling the incident, Satana clenched her small fist, her knuckles whitening.

My god! Is that how you treat a beautiful girl, like picking up a kitten? Normally, a man would offer a hand, wouldn’t he?

Could it be… I’m not attractive enough?

Satana instinctively touched her face. Ever since entering the Red Room, the organization had drilled into her the necessity of achieving goals by any means, with beauty and seduction being a secret weapon reserved for female agents.

No, I can’t let one failure make me doubt my looks. The main reason for failure is that the target isn’t a typical man.

Satana pondered. Her target was, after all, a butcher with thousands of enemy lives to his name—a demon of war in the eyes of his foes.

In fact, when the organization announced that her trial mission would target the American Kyle, many veteran agents turned pale, dreading that they’d be chosen.

In the end, Satana herself volunteered for the mission—though, truth be told, she had no other choice. If she didn’t target Kyle for her first assignment, she’d have to assassinate the leader of the ninja group known as “The Hand.” Compared to the latter, the former was safer for her as a native American.

“Plan A failed. I need another chance to approach the target.”

Satana was deep in thought when a somewhat flustered sailor burst into the infirmary.

“Major Kyle’s not used to ships, and he’s feeling a bit ill—” Before the sailor could finish, the nurses had already raised their hands, chiming in unison, “Let me go, please let me take care of him!”

Even a legendary single-combat hero gets seasick?

Satana hadn’t had time to react when the sailor, looking uncomfortable, said, “Major Kyle said he just met a medic named Satana and wants her to go. Who’s Satana? Come with me.”

Satana was stunned, and the other medics fixed her with envious, jealous looks.

The sailor urged, “You’re Satana, right? Grab your medical kit and come with me.”

“Oh, alright.” Satana nodded, inhaling deeply to steady herself before climbing off the bed.

No matter what, this was the perfect chance for close contact with her target!

The sailor led Satana, who carried her medical kit, to the office door and knocked. “Major Kyle, I’ve brought the medic.”

“Let her in,” came the calm voice from behind the door.

“Understood,” said the sailor, opening the door and motioning for Satana to enter.

Satana stepped slowly inside. As she entered, the sailor closed the door behind her.

Looking ahead, she saw Kyle seated in his office chair, one hand pressed to his forehead, eyes closed, his handsome face clouded, truly appearing unwell.

“General Kyle.” Satana stopped in front of the desk, trying her luck with a gentle call.

Kyle opened his eyes, gazing at Satana. “You’re here. After I came down from the deck, I felt dizzy and a bit nauseous.”

“That’s the onset of seasickness. First-time sailors often feel a little unwell. You can take some medicine to ease the symptoms,” Satana said softly, as she fetched a box of tablets from her medical kit and carefully handed him two.

“Let’s give it a try.” Kyle nodded, glanced at the pills, then took them and swallowed them with a cup of warm water.

Whenever he focused on an object, accurate information about it would automatically appear before his eyes. Thus, no matter how cleverly a poison was disguised, as long as he was on guard, he could never be tricked.

But what Satana gave him was, in fact, just ordinary seasickness tablets.