"It's not Hoover's avatar, is it?"

Thinking of this, Colin couldn't help but shook his head and swept away the terrible scene that appeared in his mind.

No, I don't allow such a thing to happen!

Not to mention what kind of ability it would be to keep the mark of Hoover's avatar, it would be difficult for Colin to accept this just by thinking about the pattern on the back of his hand every day in the future.

So, we must find a way to change all this.

Of course, theoretically speaking, the anti-world also has the conditions to gain [faith]. However, considering the difficulty of the entire acquisition process, Colin decided to focus on the "Messenger" in the positive world.

With such a firm thought, he closed his eyes.

With the pull of consciousness, we returned to that era of Great Depression.

...

"Huh~"

New York in December is cold.

Fighting against the cold wind that whistled in the early morning, Colin walked out of the house.

"It's so cold."

The strong wind swept with snowflakes and kept beating Colin's face, wrapping her thick coat tightly on her body to try to resist the invasion of the cold wind. However, the cold wind blew from all directions continued to drill into his bones as if there was no gap, trying to extinguish the last trace of temperature in his body and freeze.

Putting his frozen hands to his mouth to keep warm, Colin walked on the thin snow on the ground and walked towards the street where the messenger newspaper was located.

The sudden cooling has made it more difficult for people in the Great Depression era.

As Colin walked along the way, he saw more than one vagabond. They were curled up in the corner, covered in thin, translucent blankets, and some even just piles of newspapers, looking at the pedestrians passing by, with their eyes numb and despair. This may be the last day they lived in this world.

Going down the street, Colin saw the long queue in front of the small factory.

Even on such cold days, there are still many people queuing in front of the factory gate. In order to compete for a cheap job, dozens or hundreds of people would rather tremble in the howling cold wind than miss this slim "opportunity".

This small factory, Colin knew, was engaged in the ship-related business, and occasionally received commissions from the shipyard to recruit some simple labor workers.

However, such commissions are not common, so these figures often come in line, return in disappointment, and waste their time in vain.

But even so, there are still a large number of figures gathering in front of the factory every morning.

“…Someone came out!”

"Does there be a job today..."

"Choose me, choose me, I only have the most basic salary!"

"I, I can do two jobs by myself, as long as I can give food."

In the past, the final notification received by the crowds lined up in front of these factories is often disappointed responses.

However, today, the situation seems a little different.

From the factory, a middle-aged man wrapped in a camel-colored suit walked out. He swept the long line at the door with a cold look, then turned around and posted a piece of paper with the announcement of "recruitment" on the cold wall of the factory.
Chapter completed!