Plan

When he learned that he could live for more than two hundred years, there was never a moment when Han Lin hated the fact that his life was so long so much: "Why are you making me live this long when I'm such a good guy? Didn't they say that the good don't live long?"

Originally wanting to rely on this physical condition in this World War II era to make a little war fortune, marry one or two tall foreign women, have four or five children, and peacefully live out the rest of his life, Han Lin lay lifelessly on the wooden bed in Steve's guest room. The day's experiences had left him mentally exhausted, and he slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next day, as the sky was growing bright, Han Lin woke up with a start. He looked around and realized that yesterday had not been a dream, so he could only shake his head and sigh softly: It seems I need to plan carefully on how to survive in this dangerous world.

According to the system, joining the army is the fastest way to improve one's strength, so should I go with Steve? Although the guy has the protagonist halo, as a transmigrated poor loser, shouldn't I take a detour in front of a protagonist who is forever in danger?

But how am I going to get my hands on the Super Soldier Serum if I don't follow him? To survive, I can only try my best to improve myself. If possible, based on the Blacklight Virus, I think I can use the Super Soldier Serum to further strengthen my body. In that case, I'll just have to wait for the conscription at Tomorrow's Future Expo. Before that, I need to make myself a legal citizen, or I won't even be able to get onto the battlefield.

Feeling that it was necessary to eat something, Han Lin walked out of the room to see if there was anything to eat. He had eaten some potatoes and vegetable leaves last night, and his body's current energy replenishment from these foods couldn't keep up at all. He looked into the empty kitchen, where there was only a bag of flour and not even a single egg.

Fine, I can only make some unleavened steamed buns. I'll go out later and see when Howard Stark is starting his expo.

When Han Lin finished making the steamed buns and stir-fried some shredded potatoes, Steve also got up and said to Han Lin with some shame: "Sorry, Lin, I was really too tired yesterday. Isn't it too impolite to let a guest cook?"

"It's fine. Come and eat together now. You probably haven't had Xia Kingdom food before, right? I have some things to ask you in a bit."

After eating, Han Lin stopped Steve: "Do you know how much time is left before Howard Stark opens his expo?"

Steve looked at Han Lin with a puzzled face: "There are still 7 days left. Don't you know? Did you really arrive in the United States yesterday? Then how come your English is spoken so well?"

Han Lin muttered inwardly: I just transmigrated from another world yesterday, heaven knows how many days are left. As for English, a college student like me who hasn't even passed the fourth-level exam—how do I know my English could get this good? I'm not going to tell you that I'm speaking Chinese and it somehow turns into English when I say it out loud. But Han Lin didn't dwell on it too much, because he knew very well how bizarre this world was: the whole universe spoke English, so having a little perk on our side was understandable. With a week left, Han Lin wasn't in such a rush anymore.

"This is not the point, Steve. I need a legal identity right now. Can you help me get one? The kind with a clean family background that can let me enlist." Han Lin asked what he wanted to know.

Steve: "You want to enlist? That makes it tricky. I'll see if I can find an old Xia Kingdom couple so that you can have an official identity. I'll take you over to Old Joey's place in a bit; he's always helping me make fake draft cards, so if you ask him, he should know."

"Then let's finish eating and head over quickly."

Walking through New York in 1942, Han Lin felt a bit dazed. Having never even stepped out of his country's gates, this was his first time coming here. Everything was so surreal, yet everything was so real that it was hard to accept.

Walking and looking along the way, they came to a grocery store in Queens. Han Lin poked his head in and looked inside. A slovenly old man sat in a rocking chair with his eyes half-closed, as if he had fallen asleep or was just watching the shop.

"Old Joey, are you asleep?" Steve shouted.

Half-asleep Old Joey was startled by the shout. Raising his eyes and seeing that it was Steve, who often looked for him, he grumbled: "I said there is nothing wrong with the draft cards I make! You failing so many times is your own problem!"

Steve lost face: "Shut up, Old Joey! I'm not here for a draft card this time." As he spoke, he pointed at Han Lin: "Is there a way to get him a legal identity, the kind that can let him enlist?"

Old Joey abruptly stood up. Seeing that there were no pedestrians on the street outside, Old Joey let out a breath of relief, closed the shop door, and then sat back down. He raised his eyes to look at Han Lin: "Jap or Xia Kingdom person?"

"Xia Kingdom person," Han Lin immediately replied.

"Hard to handle. There are already few Xia Kingdom people, and they can be checked almost instantly." Old Joey looked at Han Lin with some worry and said.

"No way? Isn't there any possibility at all?" Han Lin asked with some disappointment.

"It's not entirely impossible, unless some big shot vouches for you. That way you can get a legal identity. Moreover, your business cannot go through me—I can't handle it. It can only be handled through that big shot." Old Joey spilled everything.

This left Han Lin somewhat absent-minded: What on earth should I do? How can I get a legal identity and join the training for that Strategic Scientific Reserve thing with Steve?

Just as Han Lin was wondering what to do, Old Joey spoke up again: "I know Howard Stark is checking into the Waldorf Hotel tomorrow night. You can try starting from this angle, if you have the ability!"

Han Lin's eyes suddenly lit up; this was a good path: "Howard Stark... As for how to impress him, it depends on this mouth of mine."

Leaving Old Joey's shop with Steve, they walked through the yet-fully-developed neighborhoods of New York toward 49th Street.

Spanning the entire block from 49th to 50th Street and standing 42 stories high, it was the world's first skyscraper hotel and also the tallest and largest hotel in the world at the time. The Waldorf Hotel was checked into by some of the richest people in the world—period. Howard Stark's checking in was only to be expected. What Han Lin needed was to go and scout the path tonight to see if he could enter the hotel as an ordinary person. If not, he would only have to use a disreputable method to go in and see that playboy's old man, and besides, he was also a playboy.

New York at dusk did not yet have the prosperity of later generations, but the Waldorf Hotel was brightly lit, casting a brilliant glow across two blocks. Han Lin wore his own washed jeans and white T-shirt; although they were cheap goods in later generations, it was World War II now, and the Third Industrial Revolution had not yet begun. The assembly-line clothes on his back were a level or two higher for this era than ordinary attire.

The bellhop looked at this plainly dressed Asian and didn't dare to stop him. The attire was simple, but the material was very exquisite, so he merely sent someone to inform the lobby manager before returning to his post. After all, Han Lin had come from the 21st century; even if he hadn't been to luxurious places, he had surfed the internet. Without showing any stage fright, he watched the lobby manager in white gloves stand before him and ask calmly: "Hello, how can I help you?"

Han Lin also brought out his own set of rhetoric: "I am the resident manager for the Great Xia Kingdom prince in the US. In a couple of days, my master is coming to the US for a study tour, and I heard that the best suite here was booked for a week by someone named Howard Stark. I wonder if this is true?" Although these words sounded a bit strange coming from a young man like Han Lin, his attire and indifferent attitude left the lobby manager speechless.

The lobby manager hadn't expected the young man before him to have such a big backing, so he immediately changed his attitude: "Sorry, sir, that is indeed the case, but we still have two similar rooms. I wonder if that gentleman would mind?"

"I wonder if I might meet this Mr. Stark? My master is also very fond of technology, so he hopes to meet with him this time he comes."

"This..." The lobby manager hesitated for a moment before speaking: "Mr. Stark hasn't arrived in New York yet; he will officially check in tomorrow. You can come to our hotel tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock. I will check with Mr. Stark before arranging a meeting for you. Do you think that's alright?"

A trace of a smile appeared on Han Lin's cold face. He nodded slowly and then turned to leave. The lobby manager followed closely behind Han Lin step by step, respectfully sending him into a taxi and paying the fare. A small taxi fare could be exchanged for the appreciation of a country's overseas personnel; who knew, it might bring him some unexpected returns.