When he was tired, he went home to sleep.
When he was hungry, his nanny brought him food.
Ryden spent almost all his time in the laboratory. At MIT, this wasn't unusual at all.
Scientists were lunatics.
Pulling all-nighters was basic operation.
Whenever he got stuck, he could always go back to Aunt Laura's place to vent a little and pick up inspiration.
Time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, half a month was gone.
At the academy's test range, Ryden raised an exquisitely designed pistol and aimed at a target four hundred meters away.
He pulled the trigger.
Current surged. The magnetic field activated.
The bullet, amplified by the magnetic field, shot out at extreme speed, taking less than 0.3 seconds to cross the distance.
After striking the solid target, the massive kinetic energy shredded a thirty-pound block of wood into fragments.
The power was terrifying.
And this was just a pistol.
Its range surpassed that of an assault rifle.
It could even function as a sniper weapon.
Ryden remained calm.
He even wanted to laugh.
The weapon was finally complete.
Next came the anti-magnetic flight pack.
The anti-magnetic flight pack was still only a concept.
A conceptual emergency device that could allow short-term hovering-or brief flight.
It was far inferior to the flight pack later used by the military, the one Falcon, Sam Wilson, would eventually wear.
Ryden submitted the magnetic technology patent to the academy and included his mentor's name.
In this era, microwave ovens existed, but induction cookers did not.
This was a fast, convenient device-just a tiny slice of technology created by this pervert.
Since there was profit involved, the academy accepted it without hesitation.
They nearly treated Ryden like a god.
MIT's reputation had been built by generations of students.
It provided top-tier research conditions for talent and, in return, received congressional funding.
A textbook example of serving capital.
When Ryden returned home, the slightly pregnant Sarah was sitting quietly on the sofa, reading the newspaper.
At the dining table, the two kids were biting their pens, struggling through homework.
The assignments weren't hard.
But under the intimidation of their "big sister" Shirley, they didn't dare put their pens down, or they'd be teased again.
"Wow, big brother, you're back!"
"You're back!"
"Little Ryden, you're back!"
Everyone greeted him differently.
Ryden smiled, responded to each of them, then carried a stack of books back to his room.
With so many people around, the place felt lively.
It felt like home.
If anyone asked where security was best, the answer was MIT.
A military base sat less than two kilometers away.
As a privately run academy funded by the state and a cradle for elite talent, its security was naturally excellent.
Another example of serving capital.
Lithium batteries were becoming more widespread.
Small components and appliances were starting to appear.
The key advantage was recharging.
The lithium battery Ryden modified was exceptional.
Compared to traditional sulfuric acid batteries, it had higher capacity, smaller size, and-most importantly-could be recharged with a special charger after depletion.
Reusable.
It outperformed traditional batteries by several orders of magnitude.
Old batteries were disposable. Once drained, they were discarded-wasteful and polluting.
Once the lithium battery launched, especially with Wayne Enterprises backing it, it captured ninety percent of the market almost instantly.
If Stark Industries had pushed it instead, resistance would have been fierce.
The battlefield of capital was brutal.
Those who failed to see clearly often went bankrupt.
Wall Street suicides weren't rare.
If they died, they died.
It was their fault for lacking ability and foresight.
Beyond skipping external promotion costs and borrowing resources, Ryden had another goal.
He deliberately upgraded the lithium battery technology to show Wayne Enterprises' CEO, Aisha, his value.
So she wouldn't interfere with him and his teacher, Dia.
Stark Industries was still expanding, preparing to enter multiple sectors, but their core remained military manufacturing.
That field was the most profitable.
With a killing machine like the AK-47, even if others produced it, royalties were unavoidable.
Of course, they could manufacture it secretly.
But then they couldn't blame him for being ruthless.
Around the same time, under Ophelia's leadership, the Spades Gang crushed the Lens Gang and seized half of Brooklyn.
The young woman had finally bared her vicious fangs.
Yet whenever she called Ryden, her voice was gentle.
He couldn't tell whether it was sincerity or an act.
Ryden buried himself in books.
This time, they were mechanical engineering texts.
He wanted to build a simple robotic arm, like the ones Tony Stark used in Iron Man.
They looked useless.
But once he began working with them, he realized how valuable they were.
Definitely not decorations.
Mechanical engineering.
Human anatomy.
Cell evolution.
Engine principles.
Power transmission theory.
Another mountain of books.
Fortunately, he'd already been through hell once.
He could handle it again.
"Keep learning, young man. Learning makes me happy."
Sometimes, Ryden genuinely admired that playboy Tony.
He had inherited Howard's brain perfectly.
Being able to deduce the Extremis Virus formula was absurdly impressive.
Without sufficient theoretical knowledge, you couldn't accomplish corresponding feats.
Science was rigorous.
Even if many things defied explanation, it could still solve countless problems.
For example, if you didn't want to walk, you took a car.
Simple logic.
Of course, if you tangled with Superman, Superwoman, Doomsday, Kryptonians, Kree, or Asgardians-
Forget it.
Those things weren't scientific.
The iron block Ryden had built at home was transported to the lab.
A massive natural magnet had been ground into a square.
Layers of wiring and magnetic field devices were mounted onto it.
Several metal batteries containing palladium were attached.
These batteries were his latest research result.
Ryden had created them using the basic principles of the Arc Reactor.
The Arc Reactor itself didn't even exist yet.
It was something Howard and the Soviet scientist Anton Vanko would develop together.
Just like Tony, it hadn't appeared yet.
Ryden strapped the iron block to his back and took a deep breath, tightening the harness.
He looked at Mrs. Jennifer, who was operating the black-and-white camera in front of him.
"I'm ready. First flight test of the flight pack. August 23rd. Prepare. Start."
The battery powered on.
The magnetic field system activated, generating repulsive force against the electromagnet below.
The surge was immediate.
Crack.
Bang.
He had no idea how many tables he smashed, how many test tubes shattered, or how many parts were destroyed.
Ryden completely lost control.
The magnetic force slammed him straight into the wall.
He couldn't move.
It felt like standing in a level ten gale-unable to even keep his footing.
"First test: failed. Cause-unable to control force and direction."
He reached out and shut off the camera.
Mrs. Jennifer covered her mouth as she laughed.
Her lips curled into a teasing smile.
Watching this student experiment was genuinely entertaining.
She hadn't felt this amused in a long time.
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