By the time Rogers survived the first mutation, it was already evening.

Luke opened the camp tent and came in with a bowl of cereal with a lot of glucose.

"Are you awake? The transformation was successful."

This was the first thing Rogers heard when he opened his eyes and regained consciousness.

He got up with difficulty and left the thickened, reinforced high back chair.

While rubbing his hands with traces of strangulation, he moved his stiff limbs.

"Are you sure it worked? I don't feel the slightest change."

Wearing only one pair of underpants and bare upper body, Rogers expressed his doubts.

He used to receive serum injection. At least he turned into a big muscle bully from a small man.

It can be said that great intuitive changes have taken place from the inside to the outside, which can be seen at a glance.

However, the first variation of such a painful process seems to have no obvious impact on yourself.

"Stephanie said that if you are still alive, it means that the transformation has been successful."

Luke shrugged and handed Rogers the bowl of cereal. He gloated and said, "your food in the next few days is glucose in addition to nutrient solution. Enjoy it."

"What about you?"

Rogers drank the bad cereal with a spoon and looked at Luke standing aside.

The latter smacked his mouth and said, "Cheese Steak and roast chicken. I refused Stephanie's invitation to eat English food and chose a fairly good restaurant for dinner with Carter."

Rogers, who was carrying cereal porridge, immediately felt dull. He was not a vegetarian. He had no interest in the thick porridge mixed with glucose.

"Can't I eat meat?"

The captain of the United States made a serious request.

"How can you make up for your daily consumption by eating only this?"

Luke shook his head and explained, "I'll give you some bags of nutrient solution later. You'll have to undergo a mutation in about three hours. She's afraid you'll spit out all the food in your stomach."

"If you want to try other foods, I recommend some famous British dishes and look up at the stars - you will think glucose cereal porridge is a delicacy."

Hearing Luke's words, Rogers immediately remembered the fish's eyes.

He quickly shook his head and refused the seemingly kind offer.

That thing is definitely for people to eat, not some kind of thriller masterpiece of art?

Rogers drank the porridge in a few mouthfuls and asked, "can I take a bath?"

The severe pain of the first mutation made him sweat a lot and almost condensed into salt.

"This should be no problem. Stephanie just said, don't exercise hard and eat too much food."

Luke smiled. The feeling of using Captain America as an experimental mouse seemed very interesting.

"In fact, you are no different from usual. The transformation of 'Walden's blood' can only be seen after at least three variations."

Rogers doesn't understand. Like Luke, he is not a learning bully.

The former doesn't have this learning talent, while the latter can move his hand and don't use his brain - it feels more and more superhuman.

Luke thought silently.

"By the way, is the transformation plan going well?"

Rogers, who ran outside the tent to take a shower, asked loudly.

Because Stephanie thought he had "warship class" potential, he also had an exclusive tent and didn't mix with the soldiers.

"The first mutation eliminated 141 people."

Luke gave a specific number and sighed: "nearly half of them had rejection and died. The remaining half still couldn't bear the pain and hurt themselves... In a word, it's not optimistic."

This result directly smashed the good idea that the Allied high-level regarded "Walden's blood" as an important technology and thought it could be vigorously promoted.

The extremely low success rate, coupled with the cost of cultivating red spar, is really a little worthless.

You know, "tank class" soldiers still can't beat a bazooka rocket, or the accurate shooting of snipers.

Only by creating "warship class" soldiers can we reap rich returns.

This is equivalent to ten consecutive strokes. The blue sky and white clouds are a loss. Only when they flash purple and appear golden light can they be counted back.

Those "tank class" can't meet the military, and "warship class" can.

But the latter's shipment rate is appalling low enough to make any European emperor despair.

"Next, there are two variations. If you succeed, you have the hope to become a 'tank level' soldier."

Luke sat in the tent. He estimated that 20 people would be lucky if they survived three mutations - but considering that they were all a group of Europeans, there might be miracles.

As for Rogers?

If he managed to survive twenty-four variations, it would be a rare card with golden light.

"So, Rogers, come on."

Luke spoke sarcastically. He didn't suffer anyway.

Dr. Zola has been placed in the project team of "Walden's blood". Even if he wants to be transformed, it will be later.

……

……

Three hours later, Rogers received a second mutation.

This time, Stephanie adjusted the dose of "Walden's blood", doubled her backhand, and almost let the captain of the United States die on the spot.

Luke looked at Rogers with red skin and burst veins. He couldn't help sighing: "the poor rely on variation, the rich rely on technology - it's more reliable to bring their own plug-ins after thinking about it."

Taking advantage of his divergent thinking, he summarized all the heroes in Marvel world and found that he was still the most salty fish of Superman in the next studio. He didn't have to do anything else, just bask in the sun.

If you have trouble using your head, throw it to Batman.

If you want to cut people, give it to wonder woman.

In case of a crisis of sacrificing heaven, send flash

"Sure enough, being a leader is the easiest."

Luke thought half jokingly.

The second mutation tossed for more than two hours. When the transformation process was over, Rogers leaned on the high back chair as if he had been fished out of the water. The two pectorals fluctuated continuously, and looked at the peak on the side of the ridge. It was a very hot scenery.

"Are you okay?"

Asked Luke, who had stayed up all night without going to bed.

For him, the rest brought by sleep is actually dispensable.

If you like, you can stay awake for weeks.

"Thinking of 22 more mutations, I want to hit my head against the wall."

Rogers was powerless and looked loveless.

The medical profession divides pain into many levels, the lowest is mosquito bite, and there is almost no feeling.

It is said that the highest is similar to the delivery of pregnant women, which is simply unbearable.

For the captain of the United States, his pain may be above this.

Even if the transformation process is not strictly put together with the delivery of pregnant women, it makes people's scalp numb just thinking about it 24 times.

"I feel like I'm about to collapse."

Rogers looked at Luke and said hoarsely, "how many people are left this time?"

"Eighty two."

Luke took another bowl of glucose cereal and said with pity in his eyes, "this is your breakfast."

Outside the tent, the sky has turned white.

At the end of the night, only 82 people were able to survive the transformation of "Walden's blood".

This is also a qualified receptor!

"It's very difficult to mass produce."

Luke shook his head.

In this way, Berlin can issue three "warship class" rare cards at one time, which is really full of European spirit.

I don't know whether the allies can make other "warship class" besides Rogers.

It's also European. It's unreasonable to have bad luck.

"Brigadier general Carville, I have bad news."

Just as Lux's mood fluctuated, Stephanie in a white coat hurried in.

"Berlin has launched an attack. All three 'warships' are out!"