"My name is Duke, and I'm a dentist." Duke put on the padlock and said, "You have always been the captain. When I was in school, your photo was printed in the history books. There is a special exhibition hall for you in the New York Museum. You crushed the ambitions of the Communists and stopped the Axis powers from conquering the world. You are the symbol of this country and the hero of the world."
Steve was surprised: "Is that me? I don't remember being so great. I can't do these things. Victory is due to the unremitting efforts of everyone and cannot be attributed to one person. And are you really a dentist? I thought you were an alien."
Duke ignored Steve's complaints and continued, "That's how you are promoted in books. Some people have deified you and made you into a spirit and a belief."
Steve was speechless and a little confused: "Why me, there are so many heroes?"
"Because your story is the most legendary, or maybe because you are dead. Dead beliefs can only be admired by people, but living ones may even run for president...that's probably it." Duke's sharp words were like a sharp knife, picking up the bloody reality.
Steve suddenly felt inexplicably irritated after hearing this, and he felt a sense of frustration, but he didn't know who to vent it on. Hearing that he had become a unique hero, he was a little happy, but behind the hero was a game of interests, which reminded him of his life in the song and dance troupe, when he was also a symbol.
"Hey, Dr. Duke! This is our third meeting tonight. Are you sure you don't want to consider buying some laundry detergent?" Salesman Gold popped out from the corner and greeted happily: "Wow! What happened to your front door? Did SWAT come to your house for counter-terrorism?"
"Just call me Steve. I'm not the captain anymore." Steve's words seemed to hint at something.
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"That's really tragic." Duke said with sympathy. What's the difference between alcohol that doesn't make you drunk and mineral water?
To put it bluntly, he is just a soldier who only knows how to fight, and he has no other skills except following orders.
"Maybe you should see a psychiatrist. I know a few good ones and I can introduce them to you. Of course, their fees are very high and are charged by the hour. But don't worry, I think at your age, you will have a lot of retirement pay and pension to receive." Duke said with an extremely strange expression: "They owe you a lot of wages, maybe they will compensate you with a house. The land in New York is very expensive now, and it's not bad to have a house. You just took a nap, and when you wake up you can work 50 years less, which is actually not bad..."
After a long time, Steve came out, his eyes were red and swollen, he was staggering, and his body was more hunched. After the continuous blows, even if his spirit was strong, he couldn't bear it.
Steve's situation is a little better than theirs, but not much better. When you wake up, humans have entered the era of space colonization. How would you feel? No identity, no relatives or friends, no one knows who you are... Laughter and joy have nothing to do with them. The warmth and coldness of human feelings are only loneliness. This is not the human world, this is hell!
Just when Duke was about to say something, Steve suddenly walked into a studio. On the poster in front of the door was a headshot of a beauty in military uniform. It was his girlfriend Peggy Carter.
The former hero is now just a confused tramp with no place to go.
Steve didn't say anything. Gold got angry first. He pointed at himself and said, "Doctor, I'm not a street thug. I'm a gangster."
The two walked out of the museum. Steve walked on the street and asked out of the blue, "Dr. Duke, if I go to the police station, aren't you afraid of exposing your identity?"
Duke: “It’s fucking!”
"The New York Police Precinct is right across the street. You can go there and identify yourself, and someone will pick you up shortly."
"The real underworld?" Gold was stunned.
"Understood, Captain."
"Hey, new face! Would you like some laundry detergent?" Gold turned to look at Steve, looked him up and down, shook his head and said nothing more. A professional salesman must have a sharp eye. Gold could tell at a glance that Steve's coat didn't fit him, he was either stolen or borrowed, and the pants on his legs were old-fashioned, even the old grandfathers in the park wore more fashionable ones.
"It's Steve..."
"What do you think?" Duke asked.
Steve smiled bitterly: "My cells are immune to alcohol and toxins. I can't get drunk."
The guard turned on the lights in the museum, the radio and the phantom lights, and led the two to the Captain America exhibition hall. Steve quietly looked at the descriptions of him, ignoring the boasts and praises, and looked at the other exhibitions without saying a word. There were his good friend Bucky, and there were also the Howling Commandos... Reminiscing about the memories in his mind, Steve was silent for a long time.
Poor bastard without a dime! Gold cursed inwardly.
"Forget it, as long as you're happy." Steve gave up helplessly. He wanted to punch Duke in the face, but was afraid of the pain.
Gold's funny look amused Steve. Captain America looked at the gangster in front of him with a smile. He could feel that the other party's character was not bad. At most, he had gone astray and was far from the underworld.
"I...I don't know either." Steve looked at his exhibition hall blankly. This world only had memories of him, and he himself was redundant.
Steve rolled his eyes and didn't believe Duke's lies. He could feel that Duke did something to the guard, but it was too secretive for him to notice.
"Don't listen to his nonsense. His name is Gold, and he's a gangster on this street. The laundry detergent is Hexine, and with your superhuman physique, it's okay to eat it as a meal." Duke explained.
He has been sleeping for 70 years and is out of touch with the world. His thoughts are still stuck in the past 70 years. He is out of tune with the world, both in terms of cognitive convenience and psychological level. He doesn't even know what laundry detergent is. He has no friends and no family. Everything is blank. He stands on the other side of the world and wants to fit in but has no idea where to start.
"I'm just a soldier who has passed his prime. This society doesn't need me anymore." Steve laughed bitterly and sat down in his chair. What he saw and heard in the museum clearly and accurately told him that he was just a thing of the past. In this information and technological age, there was no ship that could carry him... well, there was no place for him to use his skills.
Duke didn't enter the exhibition hall, but stood outside the door against the wall. There was a sad story inside, and he didn't want to comfort an emotionally hurt old man.
"What about people like me who smoke and play cards, swear all the time, go out to sell laundry detergent in the middle of the night, and have the nerve to talk to others even if there aren't a few holes in my clothes?" Gold suddenly felt that what Duke said made sense, so he humbly asked for advice. He wanted to know his own position.
After bidding farewell to the dejected Gold, Duke took Steve on a walk on the streets of Brooklyn. At four in the morning, New York was brightly lit, and people were constantly coming and going on the busy main streets. The colorful neon lights were reflected on Steve's face, making him look pale and weak.
"Okay, Captain."
"How did you do it?" Steve asked curiously. At first the guard's attitude was very tough, but after Duke said a few words of nonsense, the other party's attitude changed drastically, and he smiled so hard that wrinkles appeared on his face.
Steve was speechless. He couldn't accept pensions and the like. He was only in his twenties. He still had fifty years to buy a house. How expensive was the house price in New York now?
"Dr. Duke, I have a request for you." Steve was silent all the way, and finally made up his mind.
"Gold, do you know what the real underworld is?" Duke felt it necessary to explain it to the idiot in front of him, so that he would not be caught by the police one day without knowing what he did wrong.
"Washing powder?" Steve felt impressed. Salesmen these days are too hardworking, going out late at night to expand business.
Lonely, fearful, confused, at a loss... Duke saw countless negative emotions in Steve's eyes, which surprised him. Is this still the fearless Captain America? Where is his confidence and tenacity? Duke thought of the masterpiece he had seen before, the movie "The Shawshank Redemption", in which an old man who had been in prison for fifty years could not overcome his fear of reality after being released from prison, and hanged himself in a small hotel, with a smile on his face before his death. Similarly, there is a novel "The Legend of 1900" that tells a similar plot.
Duke didn't say anything, but patted Steve on the shoulder and said, "Captain, do you want to go to the bar for a drink?"
"I'm good at communicating with others. This is the charm of language! Life doesn't have so many quarrels. Sometimes people just lack a little understanding of each other." Duke said sincerely, and fed the captain a bowl of chicken soup.
The two of them walked around for a long time, and Duke took Steve to the museum by subway. The museum was naturally closed in the middle of the night, but this did not bother Duke. He said something friendly to the guard at the door, and the guard greeted the two of them with a smile as if he was serving his boss.
"The mafia are philanthropists who drive tens of millions of luxury cars, wear designer suits, hold important social positions, have dozens of women, are surrounded by a group of bodyguards, have a great reputation in front of others, are highly educated, well-educated, and well-mannered, and are often praised by major media. Well... and every time they do good deeds, they will be photographed by reporters." Duke spoke without stopping, speaking at a rapid pace.
Steve's face twitched and he gave a wry smile: "You have to be kidding...right?"
"No, I will erase your memory before I leave, and no one will know that I saved you." Duke shrugged, indicating that these were not a problem.
Steve is not a fool. On the contrary, the super soldier serum has given him an incomparable clear mind. His IQ is higher than most people, but he looks a little dull because he is out of touch with society. He can feel that Duke is extraordinary, but such a powerful person is hiding in a small clinic on the streets of New York. No matter from which angle, it is too suspicious.
Duke didn't reply, and the two walked quietly until the morning sun rose and they returned to the clinic. Steve turned and looked at the alleyway where he had been beaten.
“There are so many, I don’t know how to describe it.”
Gold: “…”
"What is laundry detergent?" Steve looked at Duke, keeping in mind the good habit of asking when he doesn't understand something.
"I don't want to contact the country's people now, so forget it!" Steve sighed dejectedly: "I used to be able to devote myself to serving the country, but now it's different. The times don't need me anymore."
"Let me make it clear first, I won't take you in. At most I'll treat you to breakfast, and then you can go wherever you want." Seeing that Steve was hesitant to speak, Duke spoke first.
"It's not that..." Steve was speechless and adjusted his tone: "I want to meet Peggy, can you help me?"
"Huh? Why do you think I can help you?"
"My intuition tells me that you can." Steve said nostalgically, "She is the only thing I have in this world... I still owe her a dance. Fortunately, I still have a chance to make it up to her, otherwise I really don't know what the meaning of living is."
Thanks to the book friends 'Apple of All Flavors', 'Helpless Waiting for Failure', 'Love the Second Dimension 10032', '魘嘯', 'Bell's Heart', 'The Ninth Generation Chinese Dictionary', '何Z相离', '拔驴麦走', '书友150306215947582', '书友1616272648', '书友1210328334' for their rewards (end of this chapter)