Ten thousand dollars in 1938 was an absurd amount of money.
To put it simply, it was enough to marry fifty wives or buy a three-story, two-hundred-square-meter villa.
The purchasing power was terrifying. With deflation in full swing, prices had dropped across the board as merchants scrambled to recover capital.
No wonder Ryden felt like he was floating.
Ten thousand dollars might have been pocket change to a true capitalist, but to him, it was the first pot of gold he had earned with his own hands.
And that wasn't even counting the document tucked safely in his pocket.
Ten percent.
That piece of paper was priceless. Without lifting a finger, those ten points would eventually turn from thousands into millions, or even billions.
Thinking of that, Ryden suddenly remembered something.
He headed to a nearby commercial street and went on a shopping spree, buying women's clothes in bulk. If it looked good, he bought it. Cosmetics too.
He planned to give them to the gorgeous goddess of the school, Teacher Dia.
What young man didn't have a crush?
Especially when it was a beautiful, single teacher. It would be a disservice to one's school years not to daydream at least a little.
He had to admit, things really were cheap.
He bought a mountain of items for just eight hundred dollars, and they even included home delivery.
When he returned, Aunt Sarah stared at the pile in stunned silence.
Ryden simply smiled and said nothing.
He moved most of the items into his room, then handed over more than a dozen bags to Aunt Sarah, his gaze naturally drifting over her impressive figure.
"Aunt Sarah, these are for you. I hope you like them. I noticed your clothes were pretty old, and since I made some money today, I bought a few things to celebrate."
Sarah opened the bags.
Inside were women's clothes. Even undergarments. Shoes. Cosmetics.
She covered her mouth in shock.
"Master Ryden... what... why did you suddenly buy so many things? These are too expensive. I can't accept them. I've seen these before-some of these dresses cost dozens of dollars! I really can't take them. Getting this job was already a blessing from God!!!"
A woman capable of raising Steve Rogers into a person of such character wasn't someone who coveted small advantages.
She wouldn't steal. She wouldn't snatch. If something didn't belong to her, she didn't want it.
As she said, this high-paying job was already a huge blessing, even without days off.
Two hundred dollars a month was a dream position people would fight over.
Sarah shook her head, refusing the gifts while patiently advising him.
"Master Ryden, I appreciate the thought, but I really can't accept these. You're still a student. You shouldn't spend money recklessly. High school and college will cost a lot later."
There was something natural about her demeanor. Even when scolding someone, she remained gentle and elegant.
No wonder she could raise someone like Steve.
Like mother, like son.
"Aunt Sarah, don't you know what I did this afternoon?" Ryden said calmly. "Just put the things away and make a nice dinner. I'll tell you everything then. You'll definitely praise me."
His lips curled into a smug smile.
He deserved to show off a little. After all, he was doing pretty well now. A complete turnaround from being a useless salted fish.
Sarah wanted to insist, but seeing him head back into the yard to exercise, she was left holding the bags.
In the end, she could only put them in her room for the time being.
She made up her mind. If the young master couldn't give her a reasonable explanation, she wouldn't accept them no matter what.
There was also a strange feeling lingering in her chest.
She had seen the undergarments.
If it were just dresses or pants, that would be one thing. But this felt... too intimate.
America was open-minded, but that openness usually applied only to people who were very close.
Did the young master have some kind of intention?
Sarah shook her head, hoping she was just overthinking it.
She knew her place. She couldn't compare to young, beautiful girls. Her child was older than the young master. And frankly speaking, she was a widow.
Ryden had no idea what Aunt Sarah was thinking.
If he did, he would've been shocked by how vivid a woman's imagination could be.
There was no hidden meaning. It was just convenient one-stop shopping, from hats to shoes, and he picked whatever looked right.
There were even more items in his room.
Those were for Teacher Dia.
"Hey, you bastard! You're finally back. I thought you were going to blow up the house again!" Terrence yawned as he stepped out of his place.
It looked like he had just woken up.
"If I were blowing up a house, it'd be yours," Ryden shot back. "Only an idiot burns his own."
"Haha! Then who blew up his own house a month ago? 'Demolition Genius'-that's you!" Terrence laughed, happily rubbing salt into the wound.
Ryden went silent and dropped into high-repetition sit-ups.
He grabbed a steel bar with both hands, engaging his core and biceps as he pulled himself up, similar to Green Arrow-style training.
"Hey, you're not that petty, are you? You're mad?" Terrence paused. "Alright, alright, my fault!"
Terrence backed down immediately.
Ryden was one of the few people who never discriminated against him because of his skin color.
In truth, Ryden wasn't white either. He was just clean-cut.
Not exactly handsome, but comfortable to look at.
His skin was fair, and since his mother was a native Californian, he rarely faced discrimination.
Unless he said something, who would guess he was Asian?
Plus, with his constant fires and explosions, even school bullies avoided him. Nobody wanted to mess with a certified madman.
Scientists were all lunatics in the eyes of normal people.
"I'm not mad. You're overthinking it," Ryden said evenly. "Do me a favor. Ask Aunt Laura and Sister Sherry to come over for dinner. I hired a housekeeper. Her cooking's good."
He paused, then grinned.
"I've got good news to share."
Ryden couldn't stop himself from showing off again.
That side of him only came out in front of close friends.
Showing off to strangers just earned you a punch.
"Whoa! You actually hired a housekeeper? And you're treating us to dinner?" Terrence stared. "Unbelievable. Did you rob a bank, or did you blow something up again and need a loan? Sorry, but the 'landlord' has no spare grain."
Once he caught a hint of gossip, Terrence immediately entered full trash-talk mode. His mouth was only second to Deadpool's.
"You'll find out at dinner," Ryden said confidently. "I told you. I was definitely going to achieve something."
That smug expression made him look incredibly punchable.
"Fine. If there's food, I'm in. It's rare you treat anyone to dinner," Terrence said.
Still, he trusted Ryden.
Just like last time. Ryden had casually mentioned payment, and Terrence hadn't taken it seriously. Yet Ryden had handed him a full dollar without hesitation.
Business was business. Favors were favors.
His credit was solid.
His character, on the other hand, was a little dirty. Unscrupulous. A real jerk.
Inviting Terrence's family wasn't for any hidden motive.
Over the past month, they had taken good care of him.
People weren't made of stone. He felt something for them.
Besides...
Looking at Aunt Laura's impressive figure was a pretty good bonus, wasn't it?
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