I am a quality captain in American comics

"Damn it, why did you come here to buy a piece of land where birds don't poop? Don't tell me you're really going to grow watermelons and cotton."

Old John stared at Steve, the warning in his eyes unmistakable.

"How could I really grow cotton? I'm lying to you. I planned to grow some watermelons and raise some chickens. Real chickens, not the kind that stand in an alley."

"Damn, why are you doing this? Is it because of racism?"

"My friend, you know, I have never discriminated against a specific race. To be honest, after I returned to this world.

I have carefully read all the racial discrimination you mentioned, and to be honest, I am very disappointed.

Because you are just using this as an excuse to prevent others from entering the industry where you can make profits, or to prevent others from obtaining the privileges that only you can obtain.

This isn’t white people discriminating against you at all, it’s you fucking riding on white people and trying your best to talk about political correctness.

Come on, you don’t care about politics at all. That’s what the Jews say to gain privileges. "

Steve clearly had a lot to say.

“Damn, what you are talking about as racial discrimination is completely different from what Martin Luther King said, he wanted equal rights.

Do you know what equal rights is?

It's me fucking building a farm, my hired workers, and I'm not going to give them preferential treatment or demean them because they're black.

Because he and I are equal, damn it!

I was obviously doing the least racist thing, but you saw that farmer constantly putting the blame on me for profit.

Even you, you think I'm really being racist. "

Steve fiercely pulled out a cigar from his pocket, lit it and glared at him.

"God, why should I discriminate against you? My former comrades in the Howling Commandos were black like you, and I gave my back to him.

Did I build a toilet specifically for black people in San Diego?

The only thing I did was prepare to give black farmers a job with equal pay for equal work, and you jumped up and called me racist?

Damn it! "

Old John was so retorted by Steve that he didn't know how to speak.

"Sorry, Steve."

He hesitated for a long time and finally said sorry to Steve.

Even he has to admit that the current black demands are not an affirmative movement at all, but a privilege movement.

This is completely over the limit.

"Hey, you know what? No need to be sorry. My old friend, I think we've all been alive long enough to know why those white chicks don't hang out in black neighborhoods at night.

Damn, what those bastards did was so uncivilized. You know what I'm talking about, do you think in this kind of social understanding, black people can get fucking equal rights?

You guys will always be looked at differently, damn it. "

After Steve said this, he turned around and walked out. The look on Old John's face was a little tangled.

······

Things went smoothly on the farm and Steve moved in three days later.

Now that he is considered a wealthy man, he is destined not to live in a place like Hell's Kitchen forever.

In essence, he is an animal that hates living in groups. In his soul, neither Steve nor Zhang Beijiang likes city life very much.

As for Old John's house, he has no intention of selling it, after all, for most people in Longguo.

Having an apartment in the city and a home in the village is the standard for a winner in life.

"Hi, Principal, I heard you settled in Brooklyn?"

“You know, where I come from, it’s always reassuring to come back to my hometown.

I love walking down the streets of my memory. God, New York changes so fast. I have to relearn New York every week. "

Steve smiled and greeted Barney, who was lying on the chair with a cigar in his hand.

"Haha, you're right. Unfortunately, I've been away since I was very young, so I can't remember where my hometown is. To me, it's the same everywhere. I miss the barbecue in Texas."

"I still miss the baby seal meat in autumn a little bit. To be honest, it is delicious with mushroom sauce."

The moment Gunnar spoke, Steve frowned.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know the Norwegians had the same diet as the Inuit. I always thought the only people who ate marine mammals were the Japanese, you know they like to eat anything that has a bigger heart than they do."

"Oh, I thought you only discriminated against black people."

"Look at what you said, I am anti-human."

Steve smiled and took out a cigar from the other party's table and lit it for himself.

"Damn it, Stark gave this to me, it's very expensive!"

Barney watched the other party lighting a cigar with a lighter and couldn't help but frowned.

"Steve, can you smoke a cigar?"

"I don't know how. Hey, what makes you think that a soldier like me can smoke a cigar? Besides, doesn't this thing just need to be lit?"

Steve looked at Barney confused, who took out a box of long-handled matches.

"Matches made from cedar wood have no smell when lit."

Steve moved forward a little surprised, but there was no difference at all after lighting it.

"I said, are you sure this thing is better than a lighter?"

Steve didn't quite believe it and shook his head.

"To be honest, I don't really believe it. Anyway, this is what Stark said. I think he should be better than me in terms of enjoyment."

"Who knows?" Steve shrugged and looked up at the monitor. "By the way, are these boys still peaceful during the days when I'm not around?"