Is it difficult to get a driver's license in the Federation?
Not really.
Compared to getting a driver's license in the Eastern Country, which requires passing tests like reverse parking, hill starts, and right-angle turns, the difficulty of obtaining a driver's license in the Federation is outrageous.
To put it bluntly,as long as you can shift gears, turn, and brake, you can get a driver's license.
Of course,first you need a car, because in the Federation, you need to provide your own vehicle to get a driver's license, and the examiner will sit in your car and observe your driving habits and proficiency to determine if you pass.
So at the entrance of the Manhattan Department of Motor Vehicles, Gwen, who was waiting at the door, saw a yellow Corolla turning around in the distance, her eyes lit up, and she quickly went to greet it.
Hawke unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car.
The examiner in charge of his test also got out of the passenger seat.
Gwen walked to Hawke's side, looked at the examiner writing and drawing on the test record, and asked in a low voice.
"How was it?"
"Should be fine,"
Hawke replied softly.
He wasn't entirely sure, because when he turned around on 19th Avenue, he encountered a hippie who ran a red light.
Hawke braked briefly.
Actually, he'd rather floor the gas and send the hippie flying.
But he hesitated.
However, he glanced at the examiner's eyes, and it seemed the examiner would rather see him run the hippie.
Hawke wasn't sure if it was just his imagination.
Just as Hawke and Gwen were talking quietly, the white, bearded examiner who had been scribbling on the assessment record finally stopped writing and looked up at Hawke.
"Mr. Hawke."
"Hello."
"Those who follow the rules should yield to those who don't."
"…"
Sure enough.
Hawke thought to himself, then met the examiner's eyes, who seemed somewhat regretful for not running the little black man away, and nodded heavily: "I understand."
The examiner, seeing the meaning in Hawke's eyes, smiled slightly and handed the assessment record to Hawke.
"Congratulations, Mr. Hawke."
"Thank you."
Hawke's eyes lit up as he took his test record from the examiner.
With this paper, he could exchange it for his own driver's license at the Manhattan Department of Motor Vehicles next door.
However, Gwen was clearly more enthusiastic about this than him.
Don't ask.
The answer is that everyone else's boyfriends drive their girlfriends out for fun.
So if others have it, she wants it too.
And so,when Hawke and Gwen came out of the Department of Motor Vehicles behind them, Gwen couldn't wait to give up the driver's seat to Hawke, who had just received his license and hadn't even had a chance to enjoy it yet.
Before Hawke got his license, she drove him.
Now that Hawke has a license, why is she still driving? Wasn't Hawke's driving test a waste?
Gwen said righteously.
Hawke was speechless.
After Hawke opened the door and got back in the car, Gwen was already seated in the passenger seat, her seatbelt fastened, smiling at Hawke as he entered.
"Let's go, driver."
"..."
Hawke's lips twitched.
He looked at Gwen, who was clearly happier than him to have gotten her license, but he didn't reply. Instead, he fastened his seatbelt and pulled the car away from the side of the road.
"Where to?"
"Didn't you say to St. Mark's Basilica?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go then."
"Okay."
Hawke didn't say anything more and drove off.
"Hiss."
"Today seems to be the last day of the holiday."
Sitting in the passenger seat, Gwen, who was about to take out her phone to take a picture of Hawke's driver's license, looked at the date and couldn't help but blink.
Winter break always seems shorter than summer break.
It feels like I haven't done anything this winter break, but it's gone in the blink of an eye.
Almost half a month has passed since I picked Hawk up from the airport outside New York that evening.
Hawk returned on December 27th.
Now it's January 7th.
But not January 7th, 2012, but January 7th, 2013.
Seven days ago, Hawk and Gwen both turned eighteen, officially reaching the legal marriage age in New York City.
Unfortunately, neither of them dared to go.
Gwen might dare.
Hawk didn't.
He was afraid that the moment he and Gwen stepped out of City Hall, George the Sharpshooter Stacy would appear and shoot him eight times in the back.
Of course, Hawk wouldn't die, but George might.
So to avoid such a tragedy, Hawk didn't elope with Gwen and get married on the day he officially turned eighteen seven days ago.
Half an hour later.
St. Mark's Church.
Located near Second Avenue in Manhattan, St. Mark's Church, built in 1799, is a historic church and a famous New York City landmark.
However, Hawke wasn't there to visit the church; he was there to help his sister move.
They could no longer live at Calvin Cemetery.
Almost two weeks had passed since the military's disturbance at Calvin Cemetery, and it remained a mess.
Shattered tombstones were everywhere.
The protesters were endless.
It was too noisy.
Besides Hawke had already decided to move his sister Anna when he came back that day.
After all, he had money now.
And Gwen lived in Manhattan, and NYU was in Manhattan too, so he would have to move there sooner or later.
There was no reason for him to move to Manhattan himself and leave his sister in Queens.
So these past few days, Hawke had been searching online for cemeteries in Manhattan.
And here he was.
He found St. Mark's Church Cemetery.
Although St. Mark's Church Cemetery was small, it was relatively quiet and shaded by trees.
New York City's first mayor was buried here.
So it was a nice place.
Unfortunately, like Trinity Church Cemetery, St. Mark's Church Cemetery, due to limited space and to prevent those buried side-by-side from being buried side-by-side, basically no longer accepted new burials.
But this was New York City.
A New York City where money paves the way, and rules give way.
"Ding!"
"Thank you for your generous donation, Mr. Hawke, God bless you."
"I hope He will bless my sister."
"He will."
The smiling priest stood in an open space in the cemetery, holding a POS machine in one hand and shaking hands warmly with Hawke in the other.
After Hawke arranged a time with the priest to go to Calvin Cemetery the next day, he left the church with Gwen.
The priest watched Hawke and Gwen get into the car and drive away with a warm smile.
Gwen looked at the priest still standing at the church entrance, smiling and waving, through the rearview mirror, and couldn't help but twitch her lips.
"That priest is so enthusiastic."
"He must be enthusiastic, and he has to be."
Hawke, who had chosen a new home for his sister, was in a good mood and laughed, saying, "Believe it or not, if I donate five million dollars, this priest would dare to tear down the tomb of the first mayor of New York and give it to my sister."
Faith?
Gone long ago.
Ever since the Vatican set an example by liking little boys, what faith is there left to speak of?
God has long since taken his heavenly dimension and run away.
Gwen chuckled at Hawke's words, then, remembering she was a believer, playfully punched him with her little fist.
"Don't talk nonsense, God will hear you."
"Didn't you say you'd go to hell with me last time?"
Hawke glanced at Gwen and said with a smile, "What, regretting it?"
Gwen rolled her eyes, turned to Hawke, and said seriously, "I will go to hell with you, but I will also drag you from hell to heaven."
Hawke glanced at Gwen, said nothing, and simply shrugged.
He thought for a moment, deciding not to tell her the cruel truth that while there might be a heaven dimension in this world, Earth certainly didn't, and that death meant only going to hell.
Seeing Hawke's silence, Gwen didn't mind, smiled, and turned her gaze back to the car.
Then Gwen blinked, slightly startled as she watched Hawke drive the car into the neighborhood near the church.
"What are you doing here?"
"Buying a house."
Hawke glanced at a middle-aged woman in a sales skirt standing in front of a house for sale, pulling his car over to the side of the road.
He looked at Gwen, who seemed somewhat surprised, in the passenger seat.
His sister had moved, and he was sure he would too.
And now was a good time to buy a house.
Because of the Battle of New York last year, New York City, especially Manhattan, saw a decline in housing prices.
By the end of the year, Manhattan house prices had fallen by about 30%. Although prices continued to fall at the beginning of this year, the rate of decline had slowed significantly, and he estimated that prices would rebound within three months.
The house Hawke was looking at was a typical American house.
There were large lawns on both sides of the entrance, with anti-slip flagstones paving from the house entrance to the roadside.
To the right of the house was a garage that could fit two cars.
The garage was connected to the living room on the first floor.
Next to the garage was a storage room for lawnmower tools.
Hmm.
The exterior somewhat resembled the white house in "Mr. & Mrs. Smith."
But the house Hawke had his eye on had an orange exterior.
The interior wasn't just large, it was incredibly spacious.
A huge, open-plan living area.
A fully equipped kitchen with a large island.
A very spacious master bedroom with a walk-in closet.
A luxurious master bathroom.
Hawke followed the agent around the three-story house, then returned to the spacious living room on the first floor with its enormous fireplace.
Gwen stared intently at the fireplace, her mind filled with images of a snowy day, a fireplace burning brightly, and the two of them snuggling together under a rug as they drifted off to sleep.
Hawke glanced at Gwen's expression and looked at the agent.
"How much?"
"As agreed on the phone, twelve million dollars in a lump sum."
"Okay."
Hawke nodded at the price, then took out his Stark Bank card and handed it to the agent.
"Swipe the card!"
"..."
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