Rebirth: I am the American leader

"Hey! Damn you bastards, you better explain to me why this little brat is here!"

Steve rushed forward with the Winchester held high, just like he was fighting the Nazis in World War II.

As for those little gangsters, stop making trouble.

If you really want to talk about it, they can confidently say that although I smoke, drink and perm my hair, I am actually a good boy.

After all, these guys haven't really killed anyone yet.

At best, it's just a threat to decent women standing on the street who can't find a home, and asking them for cigarette money.

So when they saw Steve holding the Winchester like an angry bull, almost everyone raised their hands at the first moment.

Just kidding, this is Hell's Kitchen.

The police won't come in.

In other words, their death was in vain.

"Damn it, that purple-skinned dwarf eggplant! You better fucking explain to me why you are standing here, don't tell me that you are actually an adult?

You look like a child laborer in a sweatshop! "

"Please, don't kill me!"

The little boy raised his hands in fear and stared at Steve in front of him without daring to move.

Although he was not old enough to fully understand what kind of gun it was and how much kinetic energy the bullets had.

But it doesn't matter, this is free America.

It was enough for him to recognize that it was a gun.

"That's right, tell me why you are here. Aren't you supposed to go to school in that damn classroom? Isn't there anything that Hell's Kitchen High School can teach you anymore?"

"No, no! I need money very much. My mother is sick. I need money, a lot of money."

The boy looked at Steve with sincere eyes, and the latter stared at the little black bean that was as black as charcoal.

The other party's thick, mushroom-like lips showed a sad arc.

In the end, Steve couldn't bear to say anything racist to a child of this age, so he leaned down.

Staring at him, "Child, I probably understand what you mean. You are saying that your mother is sick, and then you need a lot of money, so you can only come out and sell your ass.

It's okay, there's nothing shameful about selling your ass.

All you have to do now is take me to meet your mother, trust me. I'm the new principal of Hell High School, you can call me Steve. "

Steve tried his best to make himself appear a little more qualified, but there was no way.

When he opened his mouth, he immediately called him grandson.

"No, principal, I didn't sell my ass. I couldn't sell it. They disliked me because I was a that~~"

"What's your name?"

Steve couldn't hold it in for a moment, but he hadn't forgotten his identity as the principal, so he asked him while trying not to laugh.

"My name is Kang."

Then the smile on Steve's face froze, and he looked the little brat up and down.

He put his finger on the trigger but couldn't help but move it away. He repeated this several times.

The poor little purple-skinned eggplant finally collapsed.

He looked at Steve and couldn't help crying loudly, his legs shaking so much that he could hardly stand.

"Oh, sorry, sorry. My son, I was just thinking about the war. You know me, we guys who come back from Afghanistan all have PTSD."

Steve tried to comfort the boy and finally managed to stop him from crying.

At the moment, he stared helplessly at this little kid, thinking that Kang the Conqueror seemed to have been played by a black man.

But there is no reason that the political correctness of those white-skinned vampires can affect the world, right?

If that's the case, wouldn't Spider-Man turn dark next?

Thinking of this, Steve felt his anus tighten. It wasn't that he had any opinion about Spider-Man, nor was it that he had any opinion about black people.

He is just afraid that this damn political correctness will spread in this world. In that case, his Peggy may become the Little Mermaid one day.

Just kidding, he's not Japanese, how could he raise a mermaid in the sewer?

"Okay, kid, let's go. Take us to see your mother. She has a good son. If it's not a big problem, I think he's saved."

After Steve said this, the little purple eggplant finally laughed and took Steve and Old John to a residential building.

This is the most old-fashioned apartment, completely recreating the prosperity of New York in the 1970s and 1980s.

Maybe Hell's Kitchen wasn't called Hell's Kitchen at that time, and it wasn't a place that harbored evil and evil.

But now, with the recession, home prices are falling.

More and more gangsters and lawless outlaws have flocked here, and it has naturally become a lawless area.

"I said Steve, your behavior just now seems to be a bit extreme."

Old John stared at Steve warily and said this, the latter's face looked a little embarrassed.

"Hey, this is out of my control. I'm having a hard time, you know?"

"Of course I know, but this kind of thing has to pass. You can't live in the real society with the memories of the battlefield. This is the real world."

"Damn it! This is the real world! Where I killed people! Living people!

And you know what, I was in Afghanistan playing live CS with the Taliban in skirts, and when I got back.

Because of the dogged political correctness, a nigger who had never been on the battlefield actually became my boss and awarded me a medal there.

I almost broke this bitch's nose with one punch. "

"Hey, are you talking about us?"

Old John spread his hands and stared at Steve.

He looked a little angry, as if this matter would not end well if Steve didn't give him a reasonable explanation today.

"I'm not discriminating against you! But politics be damned! You bring this damn political fight to every corner! Why don't you consider that in the past they would have shot Martin Luther King.

But now, no matter how fierce your troubles are, they won't engage in such a conspiracy?

Because you have completely mistaken the method, they are not afraid of you. "

Steve started to curse, but unexpectedly, Old John actually calmed down.

He seemed a little sad, "You're right, Martin, he is a good man. The Black Panther Party at that time was also a good group.

But someone divided us. "

Steve frowned, and after thinking about it, it seemed to make sense.

Anyway, Martin Luther King seems to be a figure from the last century. Although this old man looks okay, he may be in his eighties.

The most important point is.

Steve didn't have a detailed understanding of this kind of human geography knowledge in his previous life, otherwise he might have realized how shocking what Old John said was.