Superman

Responsible for protecting Abraham Erskine and participating in the super soldier program.

"You killed all these spies? You are very skilled."

The female officer named Peggy Carter said meaningfully.

She glanced briefly at the bodies of the spies in black. All three of them were killed by a single shot. There was no trace of trauma, and the bullets all hit vital parts.

Judging from the wound alone, this young man named Luke has good marksmanship.

And after killing the three people, the other party did not show any intense emotion of panic.

No matter how you look at it, it doesn't look like a novice.

Such an abnormal performance has every reason to make Peggy suspicious.

It's impossible to say that ordinary young people in Brooklyn can beat German spies casually?

That way, the Allies would have reached Berlin long ago, ending the war!

"Taught some self-defense techniques."

Luke replied casually.

He did learn to fight and shoot from Uncle Frank for a while.

The latter once thought about training Luke to be a gangster who cleaned houses.

The Irish gangsters are rising fast, and there's just a shortage of good lads who can do the job.

Unfortunately, Luke has little interest in this road.

Although he worked hard to learn fighting and shooting, and insisted on exercising, it was only to increase the means of self-protection.

It's not like I'm some donut head who wants to be a "gangster superstar"!

"Doctor, it's not safe here. Let's leave first."

The female officer withdrew her scrutiny, looked at Dr. Erskine, and said softly, "We will investigate all this afterwards."

"Okay. I got your name, Luke."

Dr. Erskine nodded, knowing that he was under the strict protection of the military.

I was invited by Howard Stark to participate in Tomorrow's World Expo tonight.

But after meeting him once, Dr. Erskine felt that the young and promising Mr. Stark was more like a businessman when he talked.

The enthusiasm for climbing to the top of science is far inferior to the interest in amassing wealth and chasing women.

Therefore, the two of them just exchanged a few words, and they did not talk deeply.

"Is he your friend?"

Before leaving, Erskine looked aside at Steve Rogers.

For some reason, he was very interested in this small, thin man.

Perhaps it was the conversation between the other party and the officer at the conscription station that brought back some memories deep in Erskine's heart.

As the developer of the super soldier serum, Abraham Erskine knew its dangers and the side effects it had.

I have already created a devil, and I don't want to create a second one, and more!

Therefore, Erskine has been looking for the right person to choose a "super soldier" who will not bully the weak and understand compassion.

"Yes. His name is Steve Rogers."

Luke pulled Steve over and said loudly, "My friend wants to serve his country. Although he is not strong enough, his patriotism never dies."

"I see."

Erskine turned and left thoughtfully.

The female officer also followed quickly, but before leaving, she glanced at Luke and seemed to be suspicious.

The soldiers with live ammunition stayed behind to protect the scene and clean up the mess.

"Luke, who are they?"

Steve, who survived the disaster, was a little confused, he still didn't know what happened.

"A person who can change your destiny."

Luke curled his lips and said softly.

He patted Steve's thin shoulder, and a gleam of light glowed in the depths of his eyes.

I didn't expect that I would enter the military's field of vision in this way.

I'm afraid that the next female agent named Peggy Carter will start a careful investigation of Luke.

But he is not worried, the Strategic Science Corps is doomed to gain nothing.

Their enemy is Hydra, the evil Axis powers.

And Luke has nothing to do with the so-called German spy, the killer sent by Hydra.

"What happened just now was terrible."

Steve, who couldn't understand the meaning, felt lingering fear.

The conscription station officer who had argued with him also fell in a pool of blood.

Empty eyes, lost all color.

"If you step on the battlefield, you will encounter more such things and witness more dead partners."

Luke sighed.

He'd seen Uncle Frank paint houses.

He even took care of a few gangster scum by himself.

For blood and death, has long been accustomed to.

"Do I still have a chance to set foot on the battlefield?"

Steve was a little frustrated, he'd had too many rejections.

Everyone said he couldn't do it, and thought he should stay at home.

Even good buddy Bucky is no exception.

"There will be."

Luke nodded affirmatively.

He seemed more confident than Steve himself.

"Okay, hurry up and find Bucky. I will practice it for him tonight."

Sensing Steve's puzzled gaze, Luke changed the topic and dragged the thin and small man away from the conscription station.

Chapter 6 Gangster Killer, Truck Driver

The next day, early in the morning.

Luke got up from the bed early, washed up, and continued his daily training to become bald and stronger.

Push-ups, squats, sit-ups, sunbathing

After a series of processes, the hands of the clock on the wall have already slid to [-]:[-].

"Bucky should be on board"

Luke closed the door, ready to go to Rogers.

They originally planned to send Bucky off, but Sergeant James Barnes, who was going to England, said that he didn't want his friends to see his embarrassment with weak legs.

The whole of New York last night was probably full of artillery fire.

Relying on a straight military uniform and adding a few sweet words.

A young man with strong hormones can easily pick up beautiful girls.

Perhaps, this is the benefit of serving the motherland.

"Good morning, Luke!"

The owner of the florist downstairs looked enthusiastic and said loudly: "Frank is looking for you, he looks a bit bad tempered!"

"Understood! Thank you, Uncle Dale!"

Luke stopped, changed direction, and walked towards Uncle Frank's house.

It was probably yesterday's street gangster who ran to complain to his boss, and then passed it to his uncle's ears through the Irish gangsters.

Ten minutes later, Luke deftly pulled out the key from under the doormat and opened the door.

"Uncle Frank, I brought you baked mushrooms and hash browns from Aunt Bertha's!"

Carrying a hearty and steaming breakfast, Luke walked into the living room, and saw an old man with gray hair and a somewhat stooped waist.

Only from the appearance and figure, one can vaguely see a bit of a tough and strong shadow when he was young.

"Luke! You annoying brat!"

Seeing Luke, the old man yelled angrily, "That sissy bastard Hobson ran to sue Mr. Hoffa again, saying that you beat his younger brother!"

"Even Hobson has to tell Mr. Hoffa about this kind of thing? Then why didn't he tell Mr. Hoffa that his mother died while sitting on the toilet a few days ago?"

Luke pretended to be surprised, and without stopping, he took out the plates, knives and forks from the cupboard.

"Eat it while it's hot! Aunt Bertha specially added meat to the potato pancakes!"

The old man called "Frank" sat at the table and said, "Don't try to bribe me with this! Luke, you troublesome bastard, the Italian last time Well, great taste! No matter how much you eat, you won’t get tired of it!”

Facts have proved that no one can escape the law of true fragrance!

After Frank ate that breakfast, he never mentioned anything about Hobson and his younger brother.

More of what he mentioned was getting Luke to join the burgeoning Irish gang.

"Mr. Hoffa values ​​you very much. That good idea of ​​doing business with the military barracks allowed the gang to get some obsolete firearms! Those Italians, the arrogance is not as arrogant as before!"

Frank couldn't figure out why his nephew resisted joining the gang.

An idle street gangster in Brooklyn, longing to join the gang and become its cadre.

At least that way no one will bully me anymore!

"I'm not interested! If I really want to join gangsters, I might as well go back to school!"

Luke made himself a cup of coffee and said lightly.

He knew that this was the most turbulent period in the history of the United States, as the newspaper said: "Violence, like cherry sauce pie, is an American specialty."

Since Prohibition, all kinds of gangs have sprung up like mushrooms after rain, and they keep popping up.

Most of them started out as impoverished immigrant groups, such as Irish and Italians.

Unlike the British and Germans who brought large sums of money to develop North America, their so-called "immigrants" just changed places and continued to be low-level people.

Many people can't even afford to rent a house, so they can only do the hardest and most tiring jobs.

Immigrant groups living together with each other gradually formed slums.

The "Hell's Kitchen", which was later famous in New York, was born in this way.

As a sociologist once said, poverty often breeds nationalism.

Since the Irish and Italians are both Catholics themselves, they are regarded as "barbarians" that cannot be assimilated in Christianity-dominated North America.

The ubiquitous exclusion and discrimination make life difficult for these immigrant groups.

Therefore, in order to fight against the exploitation of the foreman and the persecution of religion, the Irish and Italians spontaneously formed various violent groups.

This is the embryonic form of the American gang!

The gangs at that time were just a group of poor people, and they were not taken seriously.

Until later, a special group called "city bosses" began to emerge.

They are "professions" that emerged as the times require after the rise of industrial society. Their main responsibilities are to raise campaign funds for political party candidates and buy votes, which is what later generations call "brokers."

As we all know, the United States is a country of immigrants.