The rain in Sunset Park had stopped. Water dripped steadily from the supermarket’s awning, forming a thin curtain.

Inside Fuwang Fresh Supermarket, the air was a mix of the reek of seafood and the scent of spices. Wang Haoran stood with his hands up, his legs trembling uncontrollably, his youthful face etched with terror.

"Trick or treat!"

The leader, a burly man in a black skull mask, roared as he pressed the heavy barrel of a Glock 17 hard against Wang Haoran’s forehead. "Don’t try anything funny, kid. Get the money out!"

Wang Haoran’s illusions about the United States of America had been completely shattered, and he was filled with an indescribable regret.

Before, with his father, Wang Qiang, handling the work, their family of three had lived in a Chinese community in Flushing. The crime and robbery rates in the area weren’t low, but as long as they didn’t go out at night, they were generally fine.

It was a classic case of out of sight, out of mind. If you didn’t see it, it might as well not exist.

Classmates from all over the world, cheap food at the supermarket, affordable electronics after currency conversion... Wang Haoran had even gone shooting with his friends a few times. Back then, he thought the United States of America was a truly wonderful country.

His father used to work two jobs. One was an official gig as a night watchman at a construction site, and the other was working for a Chinese Foreman during the day. Combined, he could earn 400 USD a day—that was almost 3,000 yuan. Plus, working for another Chinese person had its perks; he could get paid via a certain app, then find someone nearby for a private currency exchange, allowing him to avoid paying taxes altogether.

And since they had just arrived from China, they were very frugal with their living expenses. Even with Wang Haoran’s mother not working, they lived comfortably.

But everything changed when Wang Qiang broke his leg and was hospitalized.

Wang Qiang had thought that private health insurance from the ACA marketplace, at 650 USD a month, was too expensive. He also saw that none of the other Chinese people around him had insurance, and he’d heard them say that healthcare in the United States of America was free. So, he hadn’t been willing to spend the money. The result was a mountain of medical bills, which set off an avalanche of problems.

When their lease was up, their landlord refused to renew.

The hospital turned the bill over to a collection agency. A lawyer soon sent a demand letter, and his credit score plummeted shortly after.

With his ruined credit score, all their other expenses—car insurance, premiums, and more—skyrocketed.

They were forced to move out of their relatively safe neighborhood in Flushing and into a basement. Their neighbors changed from hardworking second-generation immigrants to junkies and drug dealers with pockets full of all sorts of new designer drugs.

To help make ends meet, Wang Haoran found a job at a Chinese-owned fresh supermarket. He just never expected to get robbed less than two weeks into the job.

"Money! Hurry up! Don’t make me say it a third time, you yellow-skinned monkey!"

Under the black skull mask, the robber’s breathing grew heavy. The hammer on the Glock 17 was already cocked, and the crisp metallic CLICK echoed jarringly behind the narrow checkout counter.

The owner of this supermarket was a harsh man. If the store was robbed on Wang Haoran’s watch, he would be fired no matter what.

He reached for the cash register drawer with a trembling hand. He was moving too slowly. Sweat trickled from the corner of his eye, and the sting made him instinctively shut it.

Just then, the sensor on the automatic door chimed, playing a cheerful greeting in the Minnan dialect: "DING DONG! Wishing you wealth and prosperity!"

The robber spun around, aiming his gun at the door.

Standing in the doorway was a tall man. He wore a dark gray Nike hoodie, faded jeans, and a pair of mud-caked sneakers.

He had a cheap Spider-Man mask on his head. The web lines were drawn crookedly, and there was even a hole in one of the white eye-pieces.

"Good evening," he said, looking completely relaxed. "Did I walk onto the wrong set?"

"Shut up, asshole!" the robber roared. "You wanna die? Get out!"

"Hello, I’m Spider-Man," he said, as if suddenly realizing something. "Are you guys filming a cop movie? What scene are you on? Should I wait until you’re done before I start?"

He glanced up and noticed the surveillance camera above, its small light blinking faintly.

"What—what the fuck are you talking about?" the robber threatened, waving his gun. "Get lost! Or I’ll shoot."

"Whoa, hehehe, don’t get so worked up," Li Wei said, taking a seemingly casual step forward with his hands spread in a gesture of innocence. "We’re all wearing masks, aren’t we? In a way, you could say we’re colleagues."

"Colleagues, my ass!" The robber shoved the gun directly against Li Wei’s forehead. "Take one more step and I’ll shoot."

"Is that a Glock 17?" Li Wei asked, looking at the gun pressed to his forehead. "Nice. Same model the New York Police Department uses. Chambered in 9mm, stable, reliable, medium stopping power."

The man’s voice sounded vaguely familiar to Wang Haoran, but he was so scared he was about to piss his pants and was in no state to think about it.

"Come on, man," Li Wei said with a sigh, completely unfazed by the gun at his head. "We’re all about diverse narratives these days. You can’t use those kinds of racist words. All that ’ching chong’ and ’yellow-skinned monkey’ stuff... you should really avoid it. Don’t you know how offensive that is? It’s like me calling you a n****r." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"What the fuck did you just say?!?"

Enraged, the robber jammed the muzzle of the gun hard against the Spider-Man mask, trying to force him down with the pressure.