I became a son-in-law in the United States

Chapter 84 Little Brother

In the room, Hemingway was wrapped in bandages, and blood was still wet at the corner of his mouth, but this did not stop him from admiring Luther.

Yes, it's admiration, not any other emotion.

For someone like Hemingway, even if you write better articles than him or win more Nobel Prizes, he might not be convinced, because back then the Nobel Prizes were not very prestigious, and that became even more so later.

Judges tend to award prizes to their favorite authors, which has little to do with the quality of the work.

In Hemingway's eyes, there were many good writers who were more deserving of the Nobel Prize than those clowns.

But boxing is different.

Every punch lands hard, it's close combat, there's no way to dodge or pull any tricks; it's all about strength and skill, a true test of raw power.

A young man who is good-looking, has amazing boxing skills, and can maintain restraint in a duel is definitely not an ordinary person.

Just now in the third round, if Luther's last punch had been an uppercut instead of a straight punch, given the force of that punch and the opening he exposed, he would have lost at least two front teeth, and might even have suffered a concussion.

But he didn't. He was very gentlemanly and stopped there, simply pushing Hemingway away with a straight punch.

Even so, the strong man was exhausted and injured, so he couldn't stand up.

So at this moment, Hemingway felt nothing but admiration for Luther.

The others sighed in admiration upon seeing this.

"I thought they would fight like this to the death until one of them completely fell."

"Looks like this guy isn't as savage as we thought."

"He's clearly a writer, but he likes boxing. What a weirdo."

"That's because you don't understand. Only those who love and are obsessed with this sport know the charm of boxing."

"But I really didn't realize that Luther was so skilled. Even a strong man like Hemingway couldn't beat him."

"That's right, don't you guys even look at this? Whose brother-in-law is this? I'm really worried that my sister can't handle such a big guy, he's too fierce."

"I could tell back at the bar that unless someone has been training for years, it would be impossible to take down three young men in one go."

"What a fantastic match!! But I hope this never happens again."

After they finished speaking, seeing that Luther and Hemingway no longer harbored any hostility, they all went to get to work.

The New Youth Club currently has a clear division of labor. Luther is the navigator, responsible for standing at the bow and guiding the direction. Where the New Youth ship will ultimately sail depends entirely on how Luther guides it.

Sam and Hemingway formed a team, along with several other new editors, who were responsible for editing the content of each issue of the newspaper to ensure the club's influence and attract more readers and audiences.

Among these readers and audiences, more and more young people are becoming curious about the organization, and quite a few are asking about it every day.

Learning from the previous experience, the New Youth organization didn't immediately make statements like "overthrow xxx," but instead positioned itself as an organization fighting for the rights of young people and eliminating discrimination and injustice. In this era, although such slogans were unpopular and secretly ridiculed, it wasn't really a problem, after all, slaves had been freed for over a hundred years.

In this way, the new youth could effectively evade government scrutiny and be treated simply as a larger fraternity, which was exactly the effect Luther wanted.

As for Tony, he has the widest network of connections, and the Italian mafia has a presence in many parts of the United States. He and Daniel are a perfect team, and they can be in charge of the newspaper's distribution channels and sales.

Finally, there's Jim Green, whose job is the most numerous and varied: providing logistical support to the club, including funding and all necessary conditions.

Putting everything else aside, this villa was provided by Jim and served as an initial clubhouse for the new generation of young people.

After everyone left, Luther made them another cup of coffee, and the two moved to the balcony from the room.

Before us stretched a dense forest that seemed to stretch endlessly, with towering trees that blocked out the sun. Even in the sweltering summer, the area remained cool enough.

Hemingway took a sip of coffee, looked at the distant scenery, and smiled as he said:

"In this situation, I really want to find a woman and have sex with her on the treetop."

"........."

He finished speaking with an awkward smile, "Unfortunately, I can't anymore. That damn shrapnel not only injured my leg but also my spine. As a man, the only part of me that should be hard can't get hard anymore."

Luther nodded in understanding. He had indeed heard about this, but he wasn't sure if it was the cause of Hemingway's eccentricities. He figured it must have had some influence.

At the age of thirty, both men and women have high sexual desires. If the husband loses his sexual ability due to injury at this time, divorce is normal.

"Ernest," Luther called him by his first name, smiling slowly, "Don't blame yourself. In my eyes, whether you can get an erection or not, you are America's number one tough guy, you are a real man."

"Is that so! Haha!" Hemingway took another sip.

"But Mr. Luther, I still have the same question. Can you explain it to me honestly? Of course, if you don't want to, then forget it."

Luther waved his hand and then slowly explained:

"You believe that people should uphold the truth and fight for it, even if it means death, right?"

"That's right, I'm ready anytime," Hemingway said.

"But have you ever thought that if you do that, you'll instantly become their target? They'll ostracize you, target you, and if you still don't obey, they wouldn't hesitate to send you a bullet, or even run you over with their car."

"I told you, I'm ready!"

"But what happens after you die? Will anything change? If nothing does, what's the point of your death? It'll just provide your rivals with a laughingstock. When they're drunk, they'll get together and say, 'Look, that idiot actually went looking for death. I slaughtered him like a pig. He thought he'd become famous, but nobody actually knows who he is.'"

"I..." Hemingway was speechless for a moment.

Yes, he's not the kind of person who's afraid of death, but he wants to die a glorious death. If he were shot in the back, he would die with regrets.

Luther paused again, then continued, "Fighting for justice is good; there's nothing better in the world. But as I said before, fighting also requires method and strategy. If you rush in recklessly like you do, nothing will change except for one more corpse in the morgue."

"But Luther, what method are you talking about?"

"It's very simple. Just keep a low profile, hide yourself as much as possible, and grow stronger slowly. When we, the new youth, become a disciplined and idealistic organization, we will naturally become an undeniable force in this country. Only then will the people see our struggles against those politicians, and only then will your bloodshed have meaning."

Hemingway agreed with Luther's views, but he still couldn't resist his instinctive impulses.

"But Luther, we are right, we have the truth..."

"Ernest," Luther stood up, shook his head, and said, "remember, what you possess is not the truth, but merely a self-righteous illusion. Truth lies only within range; only the winners are worthy to speak of truth."

Upon hearing this, Hemingway was stunned for a moment, momentarily lost in thought.

He sat there, gazing at the forest before him, repeatedly pondering Luther's words.

"Truth... lies only within... its range..."