Chapter 34: Rushing the Manuscript
Author: Yue Shang Xintou
Main World, early morning.
Stepping onto the dim yellow street illuminated by the lamplights, Colin, who had cheated death, made his way to the Messenger Newspaper.
It was just past four in the morning. The sky was gray and hazy, without a trace of light. The surrounding streets were quiet, appearing exceptionally deserted.
Passing by the long benches, homeless people slept, wrapped in newspapers. white and Black people were squeezed together on a single bench, with not the slightest gap between them.
When people are so poor that they have nothing left to lose, discrimination naturally vanishes.
The impact of the Great Depression was somewhat less severe for Black people than for the white people of this era. Born into poverty, their daily lives were not drastically different from what they were already accustomed to.
When a person is poor enough, the Great Depression can no longer hurt them.
Walking past rows of homeless people wrapped in 'Hoover blankets', Colin's footsteps seemed exceptionally loud on the quiet street. The homeless people on the benches stirred and mumbled a few words, but not one was willing to open their eyes for a look. They had only just managed to escape the troubles of hunger and poverty and enter dreamland; they were unwilling to be roused from it.
After walking through the deserted streets, the rest of the way became much more familiar.
Passing through the desolate street lined with shops, Colin stopped in front of the old newspaper office on the corner, guided by the dim yellow light of the streetlamps.
He took a key from his pocket, inserted it into the lock, and with a creak of the turning handle, pushed open the heavy door of the Messenger Newspaper.
*Click!*
He pressed the switch, and the light that came on inside the newspaper office shone through the glass, illuminating the street outside.
Changing out of his coat and hat, he skillfully went to the stove, picked up some charcoal with tongs, and placed it inside, then set the kettle on top.
While waiting for the water to boil, Colin didn't stay idle.
He sat down at the desk, reached into the drawer for manuscript paper, and refilled his fountain pen with ink.
Looking at the blank drawing paper before him, he picked up his paintbrush, took a deep breath, and threw himself into intense creative work.
...
"...Perhaps you should try to meet more girls instead of clinging to that pile of comics... They won't bring you any girls..."
"But at least, they won't deceive me..."
At six in the morning, Old John and Little John appeared together at the entrance of the newspaper office.
"Did you lock the door when you left yesterday?"
Taking out his key and inserting it into the keyhole, before Old John could even turn it, the door of the newspaper office swung open easily.
Seeing this, Old John frowned and asked his son behind him.
"I remember locking it."
Staring at the open door, Little John hurriedly assured him.
"I swear!"
"Swearing to me is useless. Right now, you'd better pray that nothing is missing from the newspaper office..."
Sighing quietly, Old John spoke to the flustered Little John behind him before pushing open the door of the newspaper office with a worried expression.
The expected scene of the newspaper office having been ransacked did not appear.
On the contrary, the two saw Colin inside the newspaper office, hard at work.
"Good morning, you two."
Hearing the commotion from Old John and Little John outside the newspaper office, Colin stopped his paintbrush, looked up, and greeted the two at the door. At the same time, he reached for the cup on his desk and drained the coffee inside.
"Good morning, boss."
Seeing Colin in the newspaper office, Old John and Little John exchanged a look, then replied a bit belatedly.
"Boss, how are you...?"
Walking into the newspaper office, Old John couldn't help but ask as he looked at the scattered comic manuscripts on his desk.
"So early..."
"I was suddenly hit with some inspiration, and I came over early so I wouldn't lose it."
In response to the question, Colin obviously couldn't tell Old John and Little John about the crisis he had encountered in the Anti-World. He casually made up an excuse.
"But, from the looks of you, it seems like you came more than just 'a little' early."
Old John muttered, his gaze lingering for a moment on the coffee cup and kettle in front of Colin.
"Is that so? I wasn't paying much attention to the time."
Shaking his head, he suppressed the sleepiness that surfaced in his mind.
Colin looked at the nearly completed comic manuscript in his hands, then stood up to stretch his stiff body.
While Colin was stretching, Little John's attention was already captivated by the content of the comic manuscript before him.
Without a doubt, what lay on the table was the plot for the latest installment of the *Superman* serialized story. In this issue of the comic, a villain named the Prankster King appeared, committing crimes in a rather peculiar way.
In his debut scene in the comic, the Prankster King led his men to charge into a bank. But what he did wasn't a robbery; instead, he forced a lot of money into the bank, and even passersby were given money. Because this 'crime' was so peculiar, even Superman was helpless against it.
This was because not a single victim appeared in this 'crime,' not even the bank that was 'robbed.'
Due to the previous peculiar robbery, the Prankster King became famous. Soon after, he launched his second crime, leading his men into another bank. Only this time, his actions changed from giving money to actually robbing it.
In the comic, an unconventional villain like the Prankster King immediately captured Little John's attention.
In the newspaper office, he stared wide-eyed at the contents of the comic manuscript without blinking. It was only when the plot reached the scene of the Prankster King's second crime that he reluctantly withdrew his gaze, wanting more. It wasn't that Little John didn't want to keep reading; it was simply because the comic's content ended there.
"So what happens next? Will Superman arrive in time to stop the crime?"
"What kind of confrontation will happen between the Prankster King and Superman?"
"Does the Prankster King have a way to defeat Superman? No, that's impossible. Superman's powers are so immense, the Prankster King is definitely not his match..."
Although the plot of the *Superman* comic ended there, Little John couldn't help but start imagining the subsequent story in his mind.
The more he imagined, the deeper his respect for Colin grew.
Who could have guessed that the birth of the *Superman* comic was merely the result of a casual conversation between himself and his boss in the newspaper office back then?
...
"...At that time, my boss, Mr. Collin Roper, asked me, what are you reading? '*Dick Tracy*,' I told him... I saw Mr. Collin Roper in the newspaper office fall silent for a few minutes. Then, he told us he wanted to run a serialized comic in the newspaper, and then Superman was born. It all happened so suddenly..." —Excerpt from *1931 Superman and Me*
Author: John Walker
(end of chapter)