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

Luther watched as Gia walked into the school gate.

Wellesley College's entrance is not grand; two wrought-iron gates are wide open, and ivy climbs all over the gate, shining brightly green in the June sun.

Behind the main gate is a straight path leading to the teaching building. In the distance are several red brick buildings, standing quietly in the afternoon sun.

Because it was a women's academy, men were not allowed to enter, not even husbands or fathers.

Men are only allowed to enter on holidays or for special performances, upon invitation from the school.

Left with no other option, Luther could only stand outside the door and watch Gia go back.

As they walked along the path, Jia suddenly turned around, glanced at Luther, and then waved goodbye.

"Alright, the rest of the time is mine."

He plans to visit Boston later to see if there are any opportunities.

Although it was his first time in the United States, he wasn't completely unprepared; he just hoped something good might happen.

Wellesley is a typical English town with a population of about 10,000, mostly female students, wealthy locals, and school staff.

The scenery here is beautiful, with many mountains and lakes, as well as endless mountains and parks, so it's no wonder that the wealthy like to come here.

Despite this, the atmosphere in the town was tense, even filled with a faint smell of gunpowder.

The reason for this is quite simple: just one month ago, two Italian immigrants, Sacco and Fansetti, were executed.

Why?

The court suspected them of involvement in an armed robbery.

Yes, that's right, it's just a suspicion.

Without evidence or a public trial, sentencing immigrants to death based solely on suspicion is truly a uniquely American form of capitalism.

Then these two poor souls were convicted and, in a confused state, were put on the gallows, becoming a major topic of discussion in American society.

This incident sparked outrage across the United States, drawing widespread opposition from insightful individuals and triggering wave after wave of protests. The police responded swiftly, arresting numerous people, including a female professor named Hayes from Wellesley.

In the United States in 1927, racial discrimination was legal and even encouraged on some occasions.

An Onsa person who doesn't constantly spout slogans about discrimination is not a true Onsa.

That year, the Chinese Exclusion Act remained in effect. Legally, Chinese people were not considered human beings, but rather slightly more advanced animals.

The Black people weren't much better off; whenever a Black person appeared in Wellesley, the locals would be on high alert.

It's not just Black people; even families like Gia's face discrimination because of their bloodline and background.

Even a nouveau riche like Kennedy is no match for the old Wasp.

Blue-blooded nobles don't exist in 2026; they already exist now, and on a considerable scale.

Some people might ask, why don't we see these things in later generations?

Fool, by later generations these things have long been established by convention and ingrained in people's bones, so why would you need to say them?

If you don't believe me, go and look at all the presidents of the United States throughout history. Has there ever been one who wasn't a WASP?

It goes without saying who the true master of this country is.

Luther already knew all about these things before he traveled through time, and was used to them.

Fortunately, I inherited a fairly good-looking Germanic appearance, which allows me to walk freely in American society without encountering any difficulties.

He retraced his steps, walking along the tree-lined path on one side of the campus. The June weather made everything seem beautiful; the air was crisp, the breeze carried the scent of flowers, and the laughter of female students could be heard in the distance. Because of his good looks, many girls glanced in his direction, making Luther quite embarrassed.

However, the next moment, all this beauty came to an abrupt end.

Because Luther saw Chang Wei beating Lai Fu—no, it was three white men ganging up on a black man.

The black man had been knocked to the ground, his hands covering his head, curled up in the street corner.

Three white men surrounded him, kicking him repeatedly in the body, ribs, and face with their leather shoes, and blood quickly appeared.

Despite this, the other party showed no sign of stopping; on the contrary, they attacked even more fiercely and hurled even harsher insults.

"How dare you come to Wellesley? You're not welcome here. Get out!"

"This is white people's territory, this is our white people's community, and we do not welcome any guy of color."

"Silsley doesn't need someone like you. Go back to where you belong!"

"You still dare to do business in Wellesley!"

"You fucking don't know the way, do you? Don't you know the white neighborhood? Want me to show you the way?"

"His skin is so thick, it doesn't even hurt when you hit him!"

"Get back up in the tree!"

The black man glanced at one of the white men, who immediately reacted as if he had been insulted, and jumped up and stomped on him hard.

"You dare glare at me! Huh??"

Luther glanced at it, not wanting to get involved, but seeing the pitiful state of the black man, he couldn't bear to look at him.

He didn't feel anything for Black people, and even felt a little disgusted by them, but as one of his own kind, he felt a little sorry for them.

"Hey! Hey guys! Just teach them a lesson, don't kill anyone, or it'll be hard to explain to the police."

Luther casually mentioned it, which reminded the three people in front of him.

Although Black people are not considered human, they still have legal status under current US law, at least better than Chinese laborers.

If the three of them accidentally kill this guy today, things will get really complicated.

After all, the tension in Wellesley hadn't subsided yet; those two poor Italians had only been dead for a short time. If another black man were killed now, it would look bad in the public eye.

Although it won't be a life for a life, and the punishment will probably be light, it's still troublesome, isn't it?

Don't forget, white people also have jobs, lives, and they also drink and have wives. They don't want to get themselves into trouble over something like this; it's not worth it.

One of the white men glanced at Luther, then paused slightly, as if sensing a kindred spirit in the young man before him.

"Are you a soldier?"

"Yes, I fought for my country."

The white man nodded, a look of respect immediately appearing on his face, and the other two fell silent.

Although the United States in the 20s was a place of decadence and debauchery, it still held its soldiers in high esteem, with statues of soldiers found in parks and public places throughout the country.

These soldiers either expanded the country's territory or went to Europe to fight, suffering heavy casualties.

Especially after World War I, more than 400 million American soldiers returned home. Most of them received a "discharge pay" of $60, plus a train ticket home. It wasn't until 1945 that the soldiers received their proper compensation, but by then most of them had already passed away.

This is why this group is called "the heroes who are owed a debt".

When Luther came out to speak, the three of them gave him face, shook hands with him, and then turned and went to the underground bar across the street.

Luther's good mood vanished, and he was about to leave when the black man behind him suddenly rushed up, looking excited, and said:

"Sir! Please wait a moment!"