I am a quality captain in American comics

"Hey! Guys, I have an announcement! I'm going home to visit my family! Damn Brooklyn! I haven't been back in years.

Bless me! "

"Oh! Damn it! I knew it! You really are from Brooklyn! You bad ass!"

There were curses and the sound of glasses clinking in the bar.

"Watch out for the little bastards, they don't know the heights of the sky like we do!"

The wine glasses in the bar jingled, and curses and blessings were mixed together.

Steve smiled. Only at this moment did he feel that there was no difference between this place and Harbin.

·····

Brooklyn was originally a village founded by six Dutchmen and later served as a farm for a period of time.

In the last century, the population here was fairly homogeneous.

There were no blacks, no Asians, no Indians, not even many white people other than the Dutch.

It was once known as the criminal paradise of the entire New York, and its status was like Mexico to the United States.

Brooklyn is not only the back garden of New York, but also hosts a large number of basic industries, resulting in low quality of personnel.

Big Mike's statement that you are a damn racist is not groundless, it can only be regarded as some stereotypes at best.

No one knows how many vegetables New Yorkers eat in a day, but all the land in Brooklyn is used for agriculture.

Steve had never thought that there could be a farm so close to New York, and he would be lying if he said he didn't regret it.

"Hello, you don't look like one of us here."

The old white man wearing a cowboy hat stood behind Steve, carrying a lever rifle and riding an old black horse.

Typical old cowboy.

Steve looked up at him, the man's back was to the sun so Steve narrowed his eyes.

"I'm from here, but I haven't been back for too long, as you know, it's been more than half a century."

"Haha, I like your talkative personality. But I'm sure I haven't seen you, because I've never seen you here.

I lived here half a century ago. "

"That's really a sad thing. I am indeed born and raised here, but now you see, I am a foreigner."

Steve shrugged, with an indescribably sad look on his face.

Of course he had experienced this.

The hometown you left is filled with new people. When you return home again and look at the old house that has long since collapsed, you will be a foreigner at that moment.

"Okay, I like your personality, tell me what exactly are you here for?"

The old cowboy turned over and dismounted. The old horse was very obedient and stood behind him so docilely.

"Just going home to take a look. To be honest, I came back from the war and didn't know what I should do. I want to find something for myself. Do you have any farms for sale at low prices?

I might need a piece, but nothing too big. "

Steve looked around, thought for a while and said.

"You know, I've been an oil worker for a long time and I still have some money."

"Huh? Did I hear you correctly? Few young people are willing to run farms now. I thought you would all choose to work in big cities."

"How did you know that I am a young man? I said I left here more than half a century ago. If you really count my age, I should be over ninety."

Steve insisted on his age, mainly because he didn't want to be called a child by this unfortunate guy.

"If you really want to buy a farm, I know where to buy one. Come with me. I don't think you look like you have done farm work. Are you confident that you can do it well?

By the way, do you have so much money as an oil worker? "

"I guess so. I'm in the exploration business. I'm mainly responsible for discovering oil and calling for support. You know, I've always thought of myself as a true oil devil."

Steve's words made the old cowboy raise his eyebrows.

"Hahahaha, damn oil worker, you are obviously a soldier!"

"At best, they can only be regarded as security personnel of the oil company. By the way, can your farms here hire black people? The kind I pay, you know I can't do everything myself."

The old white guy scratched his hair and looked at Steve with a complicated expression.

"Well, my friend, whoever you hire has to pay. It's a matter of principle, and may I ask what you plan on ordering like this?"

"Watermelon, cotton, and then some chickens. You know I love fried chicken."

The old cowboy's eyebrows jumped to the brim of his hat. He stared at Steve's handsome face like a Greek sculpture, his face full of surprise and uncertainty.

He suspected that the bastard was a real redneck scumbag, but he had no proof.

"Why would you want to hire black people to do this?"

"Huh? Isn't this their ancestral craft? Are you going to tell me that white people are better at picking cotton than black people? They have been picking cotton for so many years!

Oh, get rid of your stereotypes, I'll pay you. Give them lots of money and hire them with real money.

Can you please stop being so sensitive in your damn mind? Oh my God, you are like an animal that has been overdosed on galactagogues. "

Steve's words were ugly, but the old white cowboy didn't know how to refute them.

If you give money, is it still considered racial discrimination?

It seems that what Steve said makes sense. Among all races and even nationalities in the United States, only these black brothers seem to be better at this.

It can even be said to be famous.

"Damn it, you'd better not get yourself in trouble. I'll be honest, even in Texas, the KKK wouldn't dare to go that far."

"Come on, I'm a man who was baptized by the military. How could I be racist?"

Steve looked at the other party seriously, and the latter had a helpless look on his face.

But he still nodded with difficulty.

No matter what, this kid doesn't look like that kind of idiot.

Even if he is really that kind of idiot, it is he who dies and not himself.

······

"Damn it, where's Principal Steve? Alexei is fighting with Wayne again!"

"I can't get through to him."

Old John could only shrug helplessly in the face of Christmas's complaints. He looked at Christmas and said with some doubts.

"With all due respect, can you beat Alexei or Wayne?"

Old John's words made Christmas slap his forehead, "Oh, shit, I almost forgot about this. I can do it directly, right?"

"Of course, my friend, as long as you don't cause him any permanent harm. For example, kill him or castrate him. It's clearly written in the school rules. What are you waiting for?

If it were a little later, Alexey might really be beaten to death by Wayne. "