The hardware store was fast.
Early the next morning, he picked up the finished parts.
Since they were polished according to the blueprints, they weren't far off the mark.
Back home, Ryden began assembling his AK-47: grip, magazine, barrel, sight base, and rubber buttpad.
The practice and live rounds he bought yesterday were waiting in the lab.
Click.
He loaded the magazine and chambered a round.
Despite this being his first time handling a gun, he felt an odd sense of familiarity, as if he were born with this skill.
Taking the ammunition and the disassembled gun parts, he prepared to head to a distant forest park to test the results.
Ryden didn't want to test it in his lab; God knows if a ricochet would K.O. him.
If he kicked the bucket before he even got to chase girls or experience the world, wouldn't he die of embarrassment?
If he were unlucky enough to go to hell and meet a fellow traveler, wouldn't it be humiliating?
Ryden already imagined the scene.
"Hey, buddy, how did you die?"
"Oh, I conquered an entire nation and died of exhaustion from my daily harem. You? How did you die?"
"Me? I was killed by a ricochet while testing a gun!"
Pfft! Anyone hearing that would laugh their head off! So, it was better to test in an open field for the sake of his reputation and safety!
Orland Park was a public park established long ago, filled with cedar trees and other timber suitable for building houses.
Near noon, one could still see many homeless vagrants occupying the best spots in the corners of the park.
Even without food, soaking up the sun was a way to recharge.
Click.
Alone, Ryden pulled out the parts under many ill-intended glares and skillfully assembled them into an AK-47 assault rifle.
The metallic glint of the receiver made several vagrants who wanted to rob him swallow hard in fear.
Of course, there were also those who weren't afraid of death, their eyes gleaming as they prepared to snatch the belongings of this teenager.
He looked like a prime target!
Ryden didn't even aim.
With a cruel grin, he pointed at the vagrants and pulled the trigger!
Magazine in, safety off.
Rat-tat-tat!!! "Ah!!! Help!!!" "Madman!!!" "Murder!!!"
The vagrants were instantly terrified, squatting on the ground, holding their heads like quails, trembling all over.
In reality, Ryden didn't kill anyone; he only put on that face to scare them.
He wasn't some arch-villain; there was no need to kill the innocent.
The bullets all hit a concrete slab.
From thirty meters away, the thin concrete was riddled with large, chunky holes! The power of the rifle was indeed impressive.
Although the recoil was a bit heavy, the rubber padding on the stock significantly reduced the impact.
Even Ryden could handle it, let alone a well-trained adult soldier.
The terrified vagrants looked at the clean-cut boy with eyes full of dread.
That savage grin from a moment ago made it feel like they had encountered a ruthless bandit—it was too scary.
Seeing him raise the gun to aim at them again, they hurriedly begged for mercy.
"Ah... Boss... sorry... we didn't mean any harm... we were just... going out to find food... don't kill us... we have no money..."
"Tch, I don't mean any harm either, I'm just testing my gun!" Ryden used the same line to mock them back.
No harm? I'll believe that when pigs fly, you old geezer!
Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind, and he grabbed it! Right, now was a great opportunity to build a gang.
In this world, there is light and there is dark.
If there's an Avengers, there must be a Legion of Doom.
One is a team of heroes, the other is a coalition of supervillains.
Why couldn't he stand in the middle? He could plant his own pawns on both sides.
Some dirty work was perfect for these vagrants—for example, playing the role of a villain about to harass a beautiful teacher, so he could jump out and play the hero! Tsk tsk tsk.
The method was old-fashioned, but it was absolutely effective! You have to pull out all the stops to get the girl!
Thinking about it, Ryden began to laugh wickedly.
His expression was truly sleazy! Uh, no—it was the look of someone whose "spring" had arrived.
The vagrants squatting on the ground shivered and tightened their thin clothes.
They glanced at each other, their eyes conveying the message: Is this guy a pervert? That laugh is so sleazy.
Does he like men?
No way, we can't be humiliated.
This is too scary.
I'll take a beating, but if... My God, don't scare me, I haven't even eaten today!
Ryden didn't know what the men in front of him were thinking.
If he did, he would definitely pull out a fresh magazine and fire a volley.
Disgusting! He was a straight man with perfectly normal preferences! He liked women! Not men!
"Alright, you lot. Even though you're just a pile of trash, even trash has its uses. Here is two dollars; this is the fee for hiring you. Don't think about running, or I'll let you know how wonderful bullets taste! Now, keep watch for me. After I finish my experiment, I have more work for you!" After speaking, he tossed out two one-dollar bills.
The bills fluttered in the air and finally landed on the ground.
It was an extremely insulting gesture; to pick up the money, they had to bend down 180 degrees in front of Ryden, effectively bowing.
The scene was just like the villain Hussein giving twenty bucks to Dagger in God of Gamblers.
The difference was Ryden wasn't a villain, and the vagrants weren't "Dagger."
The filthy vagrants immediately rushed over to grab the two "gold nuggets." What use was dignity? That was something only rich people pursued.
For those at the bottom of society, dignity wasn't as practical as two burgers!
"Yes, yes, yes, Boss, don't you worry. We brothers will handle everything for you." A relatively strong Black man patted his chest.
Even though it was their first meeting, he knew this boy wasn't someone to mess with.
What normal teenager runs around the streets with an assault rifle?
"Tch, just keep your eyes peeled!" Ryden waved his hand grandly.
Even if you haven't eaten pork, you've seen a pig run! Acting bossy was enough to intimidate these street thugs.
Even trash was no exception.
As Einstein said, everything has its use.
Bang, bang, bang! The sound of gunfire echoed throughout the morning, and a pile of shell casings fell onto the grass.
If the park weren't a gathering place for vagrants where even the police were reluctant to patrol, Ryden would have been arrested and thrown into lockup long ago for firing like this.
He recorded notes between shots.
Near noon, he left the park with a command for them to wait for his orders.
The results of the two-hour experiment were significant.
At least he knew the causes of the jams and bolt-return issues.
A few adjustments back home would fix it.
As soon as he stepped inside, Ryden smelled the rich scent of beef.
Aunt Sarah's skills were indeed excellent; the steak was seared golden brown, glistening with fragrant fat.
A vegetable borscht effectively cleansed the palate, helping to digest the grease.
"You're back, Master Ryden. Dinner is ready. Please try my cooking. If it doesn't suit your taste, tell me and I'll make another. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I made it according to my usual taste." Wearing her apron, Aunt Sarah radiated an aura of intellectual maternal love, perhaps from her past career as a nurse.
She had a great deal of affinity, and her words were like a spring breeze.
Ryden took a bite of the steak.
The hot juices rolled in his mouth, and a thick meaty aroma spread across his tongue.
It was delicious! Just as good as Mrs. Rhodes's next door!
"Delicious! I love it, Aunt Sarah. Oh, by the way, no need to clean the lab. What kind of work is Steve doing now?"
Ryden was curious.
What did Steve do before joining the army? It was never mentioned in the movies, but since he had spare cash to watch patriotic films, he probably wasn't dirt poor—though he wasn't well-off either.
A flash of worry crossed Sarah's eyes.
"That boy is doing odd jobs at a shop owned by his father's old comrade. His dream is to join the army and become a soldier, to fulfill his father's old wish and serve the country!"
"Oh, that's a truly great dream. It's because of people like him that we can live in times of peace. Aunt Sarah, I'm full. I need to head out in a bit, so the house is in your hands!" Ryden ate quickly, finishing the steak in a few bites and downing the soup.
He was thinking about going to Stark Industries.
"Alright, Master Ryden, go ahead. I'll be here." Sarah had heard from the neighbors that her young boss was a science nut who loved experiments, likely influenced by his parents. Looking at Ryden made her think of her own son, Steve—equally persistent and kind.
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