I was acting crazy in North America, and all the crazy people there took it seriously.

Chapter 87 The New Myth of Black People - Wakanda (Bonus Chapter for 500 Monthly Tickets)

As expected, there was no place for Black people in the games played by white people.

As the night deepened, Hughie Dylan, rejected by Arkham Academy, returned to his hotel room, contemplating whether to simply smash the white man's game.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw a dark figure sitting in the room, and an instinctive sense of danger made all his muscles tense up instantly!

He swiftly reached for the revolver hidden at his waist, his eyes instantly becoming as alert as a cheetah.

light is on.

It was a white man—that was Hughie’s first reaction, and his vigilance instantly rose to its peak.

In the dead of night, something eerie appeared in his room… Was it the police? The KKK? Or something worse?
His finger was already on the cold trigger.

"Relax, child."

Han Solo's voice was calm, without a trace of threat.

—In Irish territory, it wouldn't be difficult for Logan to find out Hughie's whereabouts.

“I have no interest in white people’s tricks. Get out!” Hughie said coldly.

Han Solo seemed to chuckle softly.

He didn't stand up or make any threatening gestures; he simply raised his right hand slightly, fingers slightly spread, towards the empty space between the two of them.

The next moment, Hughie's pupils suddenly contracted, and his heart almost stopped beating!

The air on the previously empty ground seemed to distort slightly!
The next second, a row of sturdy oak barrels appeared out of thin air!

The whole process was silent, as if the barrel had always been there.

This scene terrified Hughie so much that he almost lost his mind!
His hand holding the gun trembled violently, and his mind went blank!
Is this... magic? Sorcery? Or is he hallucinating?
What was happening before his eyes was beyond the sum of all his past knowledge.

"God!"

“God has nothing to do with this, child.” Han Solo withdrew his hand, his voice still calm.

For a Black man like Hughie, with a strong will, who has seen bloodshed and is full of distrust of the white world, ordinary words and inducements are meaningless; he must first be intimidated by a force that is absolutely incomprehensible.

Then, you can start to deceive people.

Han Solo revealed to him a mysterious world he had never known before: "The world you are familiar with is just the surface. In the shadows where the light cannot reach, there lies a dark world that you cannot even imagine."

"I am a Jedi who has mastered the ultimate power of the universe—the Dark Force!"

"We control the order of the dark world!"

Hughie held his breath, feeling as if his worldview had been shaken like never before.

Han Solo didn't use the "Chosen One" trick like he used to fool Al Capone, because Hughie's pursuit was completely different, and in some ways, it could be described as sublime.

Well, it's impossible not to lie; those using pseudonyms are just deceitful.

"Han Solo" abruptly changed the subject, his tone becoming deep and wistful, as if recalling an old friend:

"Seeing you, son, your anger, your resentment, your pursuit... reminds me of an old friend, a black Jedi!"

"He spent his whole life searching for a legend, a legend about the lost homeland of your Black community—the holy city of Wakanda!"

"Black people...have Jedi Knights too? The Holy City...Wakanda?!"

These words were like something out of a fairy tale; Hughie, as a Black man, had never even heard of them.

But the sight of something being created out of thin air just now made it impossible for him not to believe it.

“Of course there are Black Jedi Knights!” Han Solo declared solemnly. “Before the Dark Force, all beings are equal; it is the most just force in the world!”

“And Wakanda,”

His voice became distant and magical, as if painting a magnificent epic scroll—

"Legend has it that in the distant, unrecorded prehistoric era, there was not ignorance, but a brilliant civilization." "The great sages of this civilization established the glorious holy city of Wakanda in the heart of what you call Africa!"

"There, wisdom and power flow like rivers; there is no hunger, no oppression, no distinction between races."

"It was under Wakanda's protection and guidance that early humans had the courage and strength to leave Africa and spread throughout the world, scattering the seeds of civilization and the wisdom of the universe across the globe!"

Han Solo's voice turned low. "However, Wakanda disappeared sometime in the past."

"It is hidden in the mists of history and the folds of time, leaving only fragmented legends and prophecies revealed by the dark forces—"

He paused, his gaze fixed intently on Hughie, each word striking his heart like a hammer blow:

"When Wakanda reappears in the world, the Holy Light will shine upon all mankind! All the Black people scattered throughout the world who have suffered will, like rivers flowing into the sea, reunite under the same banner and build a free and open great nation!"

"The myriad races of the world will, as in prehistoric times, unite closely around the Black community, abandoning hatred and division, and ultimately building a harmonious world where all beings are equal!"

The powerful voice echoed in layers.

Hughie's body was trembling slightly.

Did humans originate in Africa?

Are Black people, who are generally considered an inferior race, the ancestors of all races?

Will Black people regain the glory of their ancestors and unite the human race?
If it weren't for some extraordinary force supporting him, Hughie would never have believed it!
But the barrels are still there, and the darkness... the Force is right here!

Therefore, that prophecy will surely come true!
He seemed to see the lost glory of his African ancestors, the holy light that pierced through the endless darkness, the future where all his black brothers could hold their heads high, and even the ultimate blueprint for all mankind!

It was a future for Black people that he had never dared to imagine. Overwhelmed by excitement and a sense of mission, his eyes involuntarily welled up with tears.

"How...how can we find Wakanda?"

Han Solo sighed deeply, “My old friend, who devoted his entire life to traversing countless mountains and rivers, ultimately left behind only one sentence—the Holy City will only appear when the black people themselves truly awaken.”

"Awakening?" Hughie repeated blankly, "What is...awakening?"

Han Solo's gaze suddenly sharpened like a knife, and his words lashed at Hughie's heart like a whip: "A race that only knows how to kneel and be a slave to others can never be called awakened!"

These words were extremely harsh, and his face instantly flushed red with shame and anger.

But he held back, because he knew that the mysterious man before him was telling a cruel truth.

"Then... may I ask, Your Excellency, how can we stand up?"

"No race can rise up without bloodshed." Han Solo's voice was solemn and dignified.

"I'm not afraid to die!" Hughie practically roared, his blood boiling in his chest, his eyes burning with the light of a martyr.

Even if Han Solo were to send him to the White House alone right now, he would not hesitate.

"Please tell me, what should I do? Where should I start?"

However, Han Solo was not pointing in the direction of Washington.

He slowly raised his hand and pointed to the row of oak barrels that stood out abruptly between the two of them.

“First,” the mysterious man said in a profound and enigmatic tone, “you must learn how to sell wine.”

Hugh: "...Huh?"

……

　Hey, hand over your monthly passes right now! I'm going to use them to support Black Americans!!!
　　-

　　Also, regarding the length of the ensemble cast and the main characters, let me clarify.

　　Actually, you can tell from the title that as the word count increases, a group portrait is inevitable. We should have faith in Americans; madness really is contagious.

　　But the main character won't disappear into the background, because don't underestimate the submissiveness of the Americans; if no one sets fires, they really won't dare to do so most of the time.

　　The author aims to emphasize the main characters when arson is necessary, and the ensemble cast when the crazy Americans join in. However, sometimes when writing gets carried away, the focus might shift. Please feel free to point out any issues. Thank you again for your support!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)