When Luke and Bucky reached the movie theater across the street, the future Captain America was getting beaten up in the alley behind it.
A punch landed on Steve Rogers's cheek with a bang, sending a sharp burst of pain through him.
Without any suspense, Rogers was knocked to the ground.
His frail build made him look especially small before the burly thug.
That was why no one in the theater had dared to step forward and stop him.
Even though the burly thug had been loudly causing a scene without regard for anyone else, nobody wanted to invite needless trouble.
Only a "fool" like Rogers would risk getting badly beaten just to step in and stop someone else's rude behavior.
Having fallen into a corner by the wall, Rogers hastily grabbed the lid of a nearby trash can and held it in front of himself as a shield.
There wasn't a trace of fear in his eyes. Instead, they gleamed with determination.
Like a brave soldier.
Unfortunately, the vast difference in size and strength couldn't be overcome by courage alone.
The burly thug swung his fist and knocked Rogers to the ground again.
But before long, the slight young man struggled back to his feet. As though he couldn't feel pain, he assumed a boxer's stance.
"I can do this all day!"
Rogers said between breaths.
His punches were slow and lacked force, easily blocked by the burly thug.
"Looks like you haven't been taught enough of a lesson!"
With a cold sneer, the thug's clenched fist made intimate contact with Rogers's nose again.
He still wanted to kick him a few times, to make this short fool who didn't know his place understand the consequences of sticking his nose into other people's business.
Bang!
A powerful force struck him from behind.
The thug let out a scream, lost his balance, and stumbled into the wall.
"What neighborhood's this bastard from, bullying my friend in Brooklyn?"
A cold voice sounded from behind him.
The thug hurriedly turned around and saw two young men.
One wore a crisp brown military uniform, while the other wore a leather jacket.
The latter was staring at him with sharp eyes.
"Luke! This kid was the one sticking his nose in! I didn't know he—"
Bang!
Without another word, Luke stepped forward and drove a punch into the thug's nose.
The man's body tipped backward before he crashed heavily onto the hard ground.
Blood gushed from his nose like water from an opened faucet.
Luke did not stop there. He raised his long leg, planted his black boot on the man's twisted face, and ground down hard.
"Ugh... Luke!"
Mud and coal dust stuck to the sole of his shoe forced their way into the thug's mouth.
Mixed with the blood spilling from his nose, it formed a strange taste.
"Get lost. If I catch you bullying my friends again, maybe I'll come paint your house."
After a moment, Luke removed his foot and spoke coldly.
His face smeared with blood, the thug fled the alley in a miserable state, without even daring to leave behind a threat.
There was no helping it. His opponent was Frank's nephew.
And he was well looked after by the Irish Mob, making him someone not to be trifled with.
"This is why I had Luke stay in Brooklyn to look after you."
Bucky, dressed in military uniform, reached down and pulled Rogers up. Helplessness was written across his face. "Sometimes I think you just like getting beaten up. Otherwise, why do you keep provoking bastards you can't beat?"
Rogers dusted off his clothes and sucked in a sharp breath.
The pain in his cheek and around his eye finally registered clearly in his brain, burning fiercely.
Earlier, buoyed by sheer courage, he had forgotten the pain in his body.
But now...
Rogers felt like he needed to see a doctor.
"You went to the recruitment office again?"
Luke picked up the enlistment form from the ground. Steve Rogers's personal information was written on it.
Only his place of residence had changed from Brooklyn, New York, to Paramus, New Jersey.
"Falsifying an enlistment form is against the law, Steve."
Luke rubbed his palm.
Fortunately, this body had been trained year-round and was quite strong, so dealing with that thug had been no problem.
He, Rogers, and Bucky had all grown up in Brooklyn.
But compared to him, the other two had much more similar experiences.
First, both of their parents had died because of the war.
Rogers's father had served in the 107th Infantry Division and had been killed by German Mustard Gas during a battle.
His mother had been a nurse in a tuberculosis ward. She had unfortunately contracted the disease and failed to pull through.
In a sense, the future Captain America fit the protagonist template of parents sacrificed for dramatic effect.
Bucky's background was much the same.
His father had also served in the 107th Infantry Division, dying in an accident during a military exercise, and he had been raised by his mother.
That was why the two young men, who had known each other since childhood, had become such close companions.
"I just wanted to do something..."
Rogers lowered his head dejectedly and coughed violently several times.
Not only was he thin and weak, but he also had mild asthma.
He often suffered from chest tightness, difficulty breathing, and similar symptoms.
Sending someone with such a physique to the battlefield would practically be murder.
That was why every time Rogers went to a recruitment office, the officer in charge of enlistment rejected him.
"You didn't have to be so... brutal just now, Luke."
Rogers looked up at his friend and spoke hesitantly.
Luke's brows drew together slightly, then relaxed as he gave a friendly smile. "I had to do it. Otherwise, more people in Brooklyn will bully you in the future, maybe even come after us."
"Luke's right. If his uncle didn't have some standing among the Irish immigrant community, we have no idea how much abuse we'd have taken from those little punks."
Bucky nodded in agreement.
He and Rogers had suffered plenty at the hands of those street punks before.
Almost every day, they repeated the same routine of being cornered against a wall and getting into street fights.
Until one day, they met Luke and became friends.
After that, they were the ones cornering other people against walls.
And in Bucky's eyes, Luke was very clever.
He had come up with a way to make money, taking advantage of the strict management at military bases and the fact that soldiers couldn't leave freely.
The three of them secretly slipped into camps and sold small goods such as cigarettes and alcohol.
Protected by their parents' old comrades, many people simply turned a blind eye and pretended not to notice.
They made quite a bit of money from that business.
Later, it drew the attention of Brooklyn's bootleggers.
Luke had been the one to proactively build good relations with the Irish immigrant community and share part of the business, allowing them to avoid that trouble.
"That works too. You can stay stateside and keep running the business. By the time I get back, maybe you'll both be filthy rich! Just like Howard Stark!"
Bucky joked.
No one knew how much longer the war would last.
For Commoners, they hoped the smoke of war would clear soon and life would return to peace.
But for others, it was a perfect opportunity to get rich.
Capitalists never let any opportunity to amass wealth slip away.
Many people knew that before America joined this world war, it had sold huge quantities of weapons and equipment to both the Axis Powers and the Allied Nations, making a fortune in the process.
That included the recently rising Stark Industries.
The main reason it had expanded so rapidly and risen to stand alongside those long-established arms conglomerates was that Howard Stark had seized the opportunity.
Not only had he used his brilliant mind and several useful inventions to win the Department of Defense's appreciation.
He had also used the enormous wealth he earned to open doors into high society, laying the foundation for a broad and strong network of connections.
In just a few decades, he had become a military-industrial tycoon of his generation.
Besides the rapidly growing Stark Industries, oil companies had also seized the opportunity.
Through neutral countries like Switzerland, they broke through Britain's blockade and shipped barrel after barrel of oil to Germany, reaping enormous profits and profiting from the national crisis.
As a multinational corporation and industrial giant, the Ford Motor Company had been even more outrageous.
It had even helped the Germans manufacture trucks as a form of covert political investment.
That was why Ford Motor Company's founder, Henry Ford, was later awarded the Grand Cross—the highest honor German Nazis bestowed upon foreigners.
This showed that capital had no allegiance.
Its sole purpose was to harvest wealth.
Even now, with America entering the war and joining the Allied Nations as the world situation grew increasingly dire, it still couldn't stop speculators from stirring with restless schemes.
"Howard Stark? I don't have a mind like his!"
Luke smiled faintly, then turned to Rogers. "Steve, if you really want to enlist, there are plenty of recruitment offices. I can go with you a few more times. We can try our luck."
"Really?"
A delighted smile appeared on Rogers's face.
Bucky had always opposed him joining the military, and the two had argued about it several times.
Luke rarely voiced an opinion, so his sudden support for Rogers's choice today made him very happy.
Bucky, standing beside them, was about to say something when he saw Luke give him a look that said, I know what I'm doing. He closed his mouth.
He knew Luke. His usually quiet friend never did anything without a reason.
"All right! Tonight is my last night in New York! Are you really planning to spend it in this alley?"
Bucky eagerly called to his two friends.
He would be heading to the battlefield tomorrow, bound for a foreign land.
He had specially arranged to meet several hot, pretty girls tonight, planning to take Luke and Rogers out for a wild time.
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