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After returning home, Ryden went straight into his lab to modify his equipment.
Sera changed into a tight-fitting tracksuit that perfectly outlined her figure and began boxing in her room.
The siblings had completely different hobbies, so there was no luxury item like a television in the living room.
Aunt Sarah was in the kitchen, washing vegetables and cooking with practiced ease, a gentle smile always resting on her face as she did what a good wife and mother naturally would.
On the table sat a glove covered in wires and small components.
This was Ryden's lifeline.
His self-defense glove.
At the moment, it only had a simple electric shock function-for self-defense-and a basic firing mechanism that could launch small packets of lime powder from the palm.
The powder blinded enemies and created openings for escape.
He laid all the parts he'd bought across the floor and began sorting through them one by one.
"Resistor... no. Copper wire. Diode. Overload switch. Screw..."
He muttered to himself, occasionally scratching his head.
The materials were crude. Far too crude.
He really needed to find time to "steal"-no, borrow-some better parts from Howard's lab.
Thanks to Dia, Ryden had been unusually attentive in chemistry class.
It was the fusion of chemical principles with physical electronics that would let him create a revolutionary hydrogen battery.
A compact unit made from ammonium nitrate, carbon powder, copper wire, tungsten wire, and ammonium oxide in a precise, complex ratio.
This battery could store one hundred ten volts and five thousand milliamps.
Compared to a modern ten-thousand-milliamp power bank, it wasn't even worthy of holding its shoes.
But in 1938?
It was world-shaking.
Pulling this out would earn him a Nobel Prize without question.
Ryden felt frustrated.
He couldn't make real black tech.
He wanted to build an Iron Man suit, fly to Europe, beat people up, and pick up girls.
But it was impossible.
Without artificial intelligence, wearing a powered suit would just turn him into a walking statue.
Without an arc reactor, relying on voltage alone meant flying a hundred meters, losing power, and smashing into the ground like a pancake.
A very flat pancake.
Since high-tech was out of reach, he settled for "small-tech."
Something like Black Widow's shock gear would be perfect.
Speaking of Black Widow, Ryden's thoughts drifted briefly before snapping back to work.
Hmph.
For the sake of future harems and a house full of kids, work harder.
Parts were consumed one after another.
Failed scraps were tossed aside.
Small, flat iron blocks slowly took shape, each fitted with a black sliding lever on the side.
"Master Ryden, dinner is ready."
Sarah's gentle voice came from outside the lab.
Ryden lowered his goggles and removed his insulated gloves, glancing at the unfinished prototypes with a sigh.
Hard.
It was truly hard.
He turned and left the lab.
On the workbench sat a backpack-sized iron block, thick iron wires bonded inside and a small sealed box fixed in the center.
It looked like a farm millstone.
"Brother," Sera said softly, still in her tracksuit as she patted his head. "Don't bury yourself in experiments. You've done enough. Doing this stuff at home is dangerous. Your sister doesn't want anything to happen to you again."
She looked at him seriously.
"Promise me you won't do anything stupid, okay?"
Ryden dodged her wandering hand and sat down.
"Relax. I know what I'm doing," he replied. "By the way, when you go to work tomorrow, don't get involved in the Cass case. It's dangerous."
That instantly piqued Sera's curiosity.
"Wait-how did you deal with it?" she asked quickly. "Tell me! If I accidentally walk into a trap because of you, that's on you! Good Ryden, be a good boy and tell me. I'll give you a reward."
Even Sarah paused her movements, quietly listening.
Ryden looked at his sister helplessly.
He honestly didn't know how he'd survived her brother-obsessed tendencies all these years.
"It was nothing," he said. "I looked into it. Cass does have ties to Dasco, but it's just business. He's also at odds with his shareholders."
He spoke evenly.
"I had someone grab him and send a warning to his company. The shareholders who already hate him will take the opportunity to swallow his shares and assets. Once he's broke, he'll be released. After that, he won't be able to cause any trouble."
Sera frowned slightly.
"Isn't that a bit cruel?"
She wasn't sympathizing with the disgusting merchant.
She was worried her little brother was becoming dangerous.
"Cruel?" Ryden scoffed. "No. He wanted to take you two away from me."
He smiled faintly.
"As they say, the hatred of stealing one's wife is irreconcilable. He wanted to steal my 'wife,' so I had to teach him a lesson. This was already lenient."
His tone sharpened.
"I won't lose either of you."
He used his words carefully.
Whether it was Sarah or Sera, losing them wasn't something he'd accept.
"You're impossible!" Sera snapped shyly as she pinched his ear. "I'm your sister!"
She sounded fierce, but there was no strength behind it.
Her face was flushed.
Her heart was pounding.
Idiot brother.
You still don't even know we're not blood-related.
If you did... would you still say things like that?
Only Sera knew this secret.
Along with Uncle Brad and his wife next door.
She had been adopted as a child by the forty-year-old Ethan Hunt and his wife.
Years later, after struggling with infertility, the couple finally had a son.
Ryden.
When Sera rushed to the hospital after the Academy of Sciences explosion, she heard her mother's final words.
"Sera... Mama only hopes you two live... safely... If... if you can... please take care of your brother... I'm afraid your brother... will be bullied in the future... and won't be able to find... a girlfriend..."
Her voice had grown weaker.
"You two are not blood-related..."
The coughing never stopped.
She passed away before she could finish.
If she hadn't been teaching foreign students at the Academy, she wouldn't have been caught in the explosion at all.
Ryden didn't know any of this.
If he did-
With his lecherous, shameless personality, he'd probably be laughing under his covers tonight like a pig.
"Ow-ow-let go!"
Ryden could only put on a pitiful expression, hoping his obsessive sister would stop.
She was his natural enemy.
He couldn't hit her.
He couldn't scold her.
And she knew it.
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