They took the sick woman to the hospital.
Only after enough money changed hands did the hospital begin treatment.
Without the cash, they would have turned her away without hesitation.
Ryden had a house in the district Marlos had prepared in advance.
For a gang that controlled the streets, securing a place like this was effortless.
It was a standard home meant for a family of four.
Lex and Lena stood awkwardly inside, hesitant, worried their dirty feet would stain the floor.
Ryden tossed a pile of clothes brought by the gang members onto the sofa, followed by a heap of food.
He removed his mask, revealing his real face. There was no need to hide anymore.
"Alright, you two, don't be stiff. This place is yours for now," he said calmly.
"Don't worry about the mess. We can clean it. Go take a bath, then eat something. After that, take good care of your mother."
He paused, then added, "I have things to handle. I'll come back tomorrow."
His gaze settled on them.
"Now, let me get to know you. Tell me your names first."
"Master, my name is Lex Luthor!" The boy met Ryden's eyes and spoke respectfully.
"Thank you! Thank you for saving us from that monster!"
He was scared, but he finished his words clearly.
"Master, my name is Lena Luthor. I'm the younger sister," the girl said softly.
"Thank you very much! Lena will be very good and listen!"
She smiled sweetly, polite and grateful toward her savior.
The girl looked delicate. Chronic hunger had left her malnourished, her face tinged yellow and her body thin.
With proper food and care, she would become a cute little girl soon enough.
"My name is Ryden Hunt," he said.
"You'll know it if you read the newspapers in the future. Your 'Master' is a very impressive scientist."
He tapped Lena's nose and rubbed Lex's head.
Ryden glanced toward the bedroom, where the woman lay resting, then turned and left.
There was still much to do.
Today had only been a single move on the chessboard. Its effects would surface later.
Outside the apartment, Ryden shook his head.
Today's encounters had been strange.
Howard knew Thomas Wayne.
His wife, Dia, was a woman with a massive background.
And since when did Batman have an aunt?
That had never been mentioned.
This was a real world.
A world where two different universes had merged.
It was alarming.
It also ignited Ryden's desire to explore.
He found himself genuinely looking forward to meeting Wonder Woman.
Did Olympus truly exist?
Who was stronger, Odin or Zeus?
How beautiful were Frigga and Hera?
Those were secondary.
What mattered was that if all of this existed, then there were countless ways to uncover the secret of eternal life.
For a moment, Ryden felt like Sun Wukong at the beginning of Journey to the West, crossing oceans in search of immortality.
The thought made him feel almost legendary.
Who was Sun Wukong?
The Great Sage Equal to Heaven.
He would reach a day like that as well.
-
In the Chancellery in Berlin, a stern middle-aged man with a small mustache sat at the head of the conference table.
Even with his eyes closed, his presence pressed heavily on the room.
It was a unique, compelling authority.
Anyone who read the newspapers would recognize him immediately.
The Führer of the Nazis.
The man stirring the winds of Europe.
"What is the weapons department doing?!" he roared.
"Didn't they claim their weapons were the most advanced?! Then why are they being suppressed by this so-called AK-47?!"
He slammed the table.
"And what about the Army?! Losing a battle in Czechoslovakia! Bastards!"
The Führer opened his eyes, fury burning as the table shook beneath his hand.
The conference room was drowned in oppressive, violent anger.
He had every right to be furious.
At a time when they should have been displaying their military might, the Nazi army had been repelled by a poorly equipped Czech unit and suffered a defeat.
War correspondents from multiple countries had reported it.
Now the entire world knew the Nazi army was not invincible.
Even their victory over Austria was being questioned.
All because of that cursed, out-of-nowhere AK-47.
Newspapers everywhere were boasting that if their elite armies were equipped with AK-47s, they could sweep the continent.
Arrogant.
Britain and France, those established powers, scoffed at the Nazis.
They underestimated Germany's frequent maneuvers, believing that once their own forces were re-equipped, any ordinary unit could crush the so-called Nazi threat.
If even the Czech army could overturn a Nazi tank charge, there was no reason their elite troops would fare worse.
If a butterfly flapping its wings could trigger a storm across the Pacific, then the impact of a next-generation weapon like the AK-47 was far greater.
In time, countless changes would follow.
One thing was certain.
The coming war would be far more brutal.
"Reporting to the Führer," Sergei, head of the Weapons R&D Department, stood up hurriedly.
"We Nazis are the strongest. Others may steal the spotlight temporarily, but in the end, victory will be ours!"
He swallowed, then added, "According to intelligence, the person who developed the AK-47 is a young man of partial Asian descent."
He knew when flattery was necessary.
"Then prove your so-called superior bloodline with results," the Führer said coldly.
"Do not disgrace the glory of the Nazi people."
His gaze hardened.
"Otherwise, don't bother remaining head of this department. I'll hand everything over to the Hydra laboratory."
The room stiffened.
A secret was revealed.
The Führer had begun cooperating with Hydra long ago.
Schmidt, seated below, felt delight flicker across his face.
Hydra had provided immense support during the Führer's rise.
They were partners, exploiting each other.
This was no simple superior-subordinate relationship.
Schmidt-Red Skull-was no loyal follower.
He was a supervillain.
"Respected Führer," Schmidt said smoothly, "I believe the talent who developed the AK-47 could be absorbed into Hydra."
He continued calmly, "Our intelligence shows that this young man, Ryden Hunt, is the junior fellow apprentice of our chief scientist, Dr. Zola."
"With him, we could develop even more advanced weapons to equip our army."
It was an insidious proposal.
If it succeeded, Ryden would belong to him.
If it failed, the Nazis would take action instead.
Schmidt could wash his hands of it completely.
A truly cunning old fox.
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