Chapter 77: Black in New York
Brooklyn. A dark, sketchy street.
A thin Asian boy hurried along, clutching his textbooks tightly. This alley had a nasty reputation—robberies, muggings, even assaults happened here all the time. But he had no choice. He was nearly late for his main course, and the professor of his secondary class was notoriously strict. If he missed even a minute, he could lose his full scholarship. So he took the risk and darted into the alley.
"Hey, asian monkey! Hand over your valuables, or I'll make you!"
A dark figure leapt from the shadows, jamming a knife into the boy's stomach. It was a Black man, tall and menacing, eyes wild with aggression.
The boy froze, eyes wide. "I-I only have five dollars! Take it, just please don't hurt me!"
"Don't screw with me!" the man barked. "Everyone knows you Asians always carry cash. Search him!"
He shoved the boy hard and began rifling through his pockets. After a thorough pat-down, all he found was five crumpled dollar bills and a thick stack of textbooks.
"Only five bucks? You gotta be shitting me!" he spat, kicking the textbooks down the alley. "Wasting my damn time!"
The boy didn't fight back. He just crouched down, quietly gathering his books. No matter how big the guy was, or how sharp the knife—he couldn't win. Those textbooks were insanely expensive. He'd spend everything he had to replace them if he had to.
"You little shit. You really gonna pick those up?" the mugger snapped, then stomped down hard on the boy's hand as he reached for a book. The sadistic look in his eyes made it clear—he was enjoying this.
"Pick it up, huh? Try it again, I dare you!"