Chapter 9 Luke Cage
"Phew~ It's finally done..." Colin sighed with relief, gazing at the densely filled manuscript paper on his desk. He casually organized the papers and stowed them away in a drawer, feeling a weight lifted from his heart, yet also a tinge of confusion and uncertainty.
"I've done everything in my power. Now, all I can do is let time take its course. Hopefully, things will go smoothly," he murmured to himself silently.
Colin switched off the desk lamp that had been illuminating the room, grabbed his hat and coat from the rack, and stood by the door, casting a final glance at the space behind him. With a quiet sigh, he turned around, closing the door of the messenger newspaper office firmly behind him.
If he fails, this might be his last night working for the newspaper.
"I wonder if the food in 'Hooverville' is palatable..."
...
"By combining a can of pickled beef with canned peas, gelatin, lemon juice, and vinegar, one can create a simple and satisfying dish. It's effortless to make and can easily meet the needs of a large family. The best part is that these ingredients are easily available and affordable."
Late at night, Colin sat at his desk, satiating his hunger with hard bread and carrot jam. He tuned in to the radio cooking program, "Betty Crocker Cooking School," where Betty Crocker's animated voice shared recipes for budget-friendly dishes during the Great Depression.
The Great Depression was often referred to as the 'golden age of the radio.'
Given the extensive suffering experienced by millions of Americans during that period, families who could afford a radio considered it a popular source of entertainment and news. With limited funds, the unemployed population found solace in free radio broadcasts, as going out to watch movies or shows required money.
As radios became more widespread, a plethora of radio programs emerged.
During this era, radio content catered to various age groups, captivating the elderly, women, and even children with dedicated drama programs.
While Colin listened to the radio program, which described food resembling a culinary art during the dark times, he savored the last bite of bread and sipped homemade lemon juice from his side. The mild citrus flavor of the lemon juice brought a gentle sweetness and sourness, soothing Colin's unsettled stomach. Touching his abdomen, he absentmindedly switched the radio to another channel.
In an instant, vibrant swing music filled the room.
Enthralled by the lively music, Colin swiftly finished his meal, captivated by the melodies that gradually took hold of him. He lost track of time, feeling as though the radio had already changed tunes once. Eventually, overcome by drowsiness, he turned off the radio.
"What's meant to be will be," he muttered, switching off the desk lamp and settling onto his bed. He repeated the phrase silently in his mind before closing his eyes.
….
In the next moment, his consciousness seemed to be pulled by an invisible force, descending into another dimension. Enveloped by countless green lights, he found himself in a narrow alley, opening his eyes.
Suppressing the pain from his now-stopped bleeding wound, Colin mustered the strength to move and leaned against the grimy alley wall, gasping for breath.
"This is simply... awful."
Colin lowered his head and glanced at the spot where he had been shot. Trembling, he reached out with a shaky hand and unbuttoned his shirt, allowing the faint light to reveal the condition of his wound.
There was some good news - the wound had stopped bleeding. It seemed that during his transition between two worlds, some form of protection had prevented him from immediately succumbing to excessive blood loss.
However, the bad news was that this protection hadn't fully healed his wounds. It only prevented him from quickly dying.
Right now, the most important thing was to call an ambulance.
Colin wondered if his accidental insurance from the Daily Bugle would cover this situation.
The pain from his wound interrupted Colin's thoughts. He gritted his teeth and searched his own shirt pocket with his bloodied arm.
"No way?!"
But the empty pocket only made Colin's already pale face look even more distressed.
Those robbers hadn't even spared his phone.
This was a life-threatening situation, and there was no time for deep contemplation.
Supporting his wound with one hand, Colin leaned against the wall and struggled to stand up, staggering towards the alley exit.
He hoped to encounter a kind-hearted person who could help him call an ambulance.
Silently praying in his heart, Colin gradually moved toward the mouth of the alley.
Suddenly, urgent footsteps echoed from the other side of the alley.
Someone was approaching!
Hearing the footsteps, a glimmer of hope flickered in Colin's heart, and he quickly pleaded for help.
"Please, help me! I've been shot, please..."
But before Colin could finish his plea, his expression froze in an instant.
The figure that appeared from the other side of the alley was none other than the two black men who had shot at him.
How did they come back?
"What the hell!"
Not only Colin, but even both men were surprised by the scene unfolding before them.
They saw Colin standing up again in the alley.
Both of them cursed and instinctively aimed their guns at him, seemingly intending to finish what they had started.
Who knew if getting shot again would send him back to the other world?
Facing the dark barrels in front of him, Colin couldn't help but entertain such thoughts.
A muffled gunshot broke the silence.
But Colin didn't feel the expected pain coursing through his body.
"What?!"
Instead, a broad back stood before Colin, shielding him.
"Are you alright, buddy?"
Taking a step forward, lifting his feet off the ground, the person turned his head to glance at Colin behind him and asked.
"Luke... Luke Cage!"
"Power Man!"
Both men in the alley instinctively shouted the newcomer's name.
"Now that you know who I am, please cooperate and don't resist unnecessarily," Luke Cage said, turning his gaze back to the two black men. He twisted his neck, producing a distinct cracking sound, and curled his lips slightly, speaking in a deep voice.
Even without making a move, Luke Cage's presence exerted immense pressure on the two robbers.
In a panic, one of the gunmen yelled and aimed his weapon at Luke Cage, pulling the trigger, and firing multiple shots.
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