Chapter 34: Authentic American Dinner

Dinner was a pizza delivery from nearby, accompanied by a complimentary two-liter bottle of fat-otaku happiness water.

Given the types of food that can be obtained cheaply in America, the prevalence of overweight people is not without reason.

One could say that otaku exist worldwide, not limited to the two-dimensional definition of the term. Only America produces those otaku weighing hundreds of kilograms, unable to leave their beds on their own, and even finding it difficult to walk.

But this indirectly revitalized industries such as gyms and boxing clubs. Especially the wealthy, who spend some time every day exercising to maintain a good physique.

As for those who become obsessed with fitness, aiming to build a body full of bodybuilding muscles, and then desperately injecting steroids into themselves, they are a creature of another dimension entirely.

Recalling a movie he had seen, where Thor turned into a fat boy by eating. Henry suddenly worried whether the Kryptonian constitution had any way to prevent him from becoming a fat man.

However, when hungry and food is right there, there is no reason not to eat. Speaking of which, the feeling at the Russian Institute, where he was so hungry he wanted to scrape wall plaster to eat, is still clearly imprinted in his mind.

People who have truly been hungry really fear that feeling.

No wonder in the Buddhist six realms of reincarnation, the Hungry Ghosts occupy one realm alone, standing alongside the Hell Realm and the Animal Realm as the three evil paths.

But after taking a bite of the pizza, Henry felt a little regret.

His requirements for food could be described as neither picky nor not picky. Although he likes to eat good things, most of the time, as long as it is edible, it is fine.

That is to say, for Henry, cuisine is divided into three types: delicious, edible, and inedible.

Now, a new category can be added between edible and inedible. It is the category of "eating makes one heartbroken, not eating hurts the wallet."

As someone with no habit of wasting, he certainly could not throw edible food into the trash, or let it expire before throwing it away. First, doing so wastes money; second, it is disrespectful to the people who worked hard to provide the food.

Even with hundreds of thousands of US dollars as a base, one cannot squander it recklessly. There are no other sources of income now; it is purely a state of eating through one's savings.

But some foods are just... no. Even though eating them won't cause illness, if one really eats them, one feels sorry for oneself.

Especially for a Kryptonian with a super sense of taste, if one wants to stop oneself from tasting the flavor of feces but still has to eat, one can probably only avoid it by shoving the food directly into the throat, or even into the stomach.

But this also explains why carbonated drinks come in two-liter sizes. It is truly for rinsing the mouth and washing the stomach!

This lesson made Henry firm in his belief that a rented house must have a kitchen. If one gets tired of eating out, cooking for oneself should be acceptable, right?

This was before the function of Google Maps existed; otherwise, he would have given this pizza shop a one-star negative review no matter what.

To forget the taste in his mouth, Henry picked up the Yellow Pages under the phone and started flipping through them again. He arranged the things to do tomorrow, trying to shift his attention.

It was still a pity that the Yellow Pages had no customer reviews, so he didn't know which shop to choose. He might as well not compare those shops of the same nature; just find one that is nearby.

Henry hypnotized himself, thinking that when arriving in an unfamiliar place in the dark, one must have some courage to make mistakes.

As long as one is not greedy and is careful, exiting in time before the situation causes huge losses, one will not end up trapped inside with no way out.

What he feared least was someone flipping the table and planning to use violence.

We Kryptonians, when we get angry, let's see who kills whom.

A new day. Henry, who woke up early in the morning, came out of the room to bask in the morning sun. Winter sunlight is always warm, making people instinctively chase after it. This is the exact opposite of the situation in summer, where people avoid it at all costs.

It was a pity that America, as an old industrial nation, and Los Angeles, as a metropolis, had poor air quality. Even taking a deep breath required worrying about whether it would choke oneself.

After getting himself ready, he set off in the morning, first going to a hot dog stand run by a black father nearby to buy a hot dog bun, squeezing on a large amount of mustard sauce to casually fill his stomach. He skipped the complimentary soda water that came with it; that was practically a bacteria culture tank.

After gulping down the hot dog bun, Henry first found a bank, intending to deposit all the reward from the crab fishing boat.

After all, carrying hundreds of thousands in cash on one's person is too showy and unnecessary. Keeping it in a motel or the house he planned to rent later was also unsafe. If it were stolen, it would be a thousand years of cultivation lost in a single day. Better to deposit it in a bank.

The reason he didn't open an account in Alaska back then was that banks in Alaska did not have many branches on the US mainland, making them inconvenient to use.

As for directly cashing checks from Alaska-region banks on the US mainland, the handling fees were metaphysical; every bank had its own regulations. It could be said that it basically depended entirely on the bank's mood, with no unified fee or ratio.

Now that he had arrived in Los Angeles and planned to mix it up in Hollywood, there was no way he would only accept cash rewards, or take checks to a bank to cash them out at high handling fees. So opening a bank account was the best choice.

Small banks were out of the question. The American financial system, long ago under the mischief of the Jews, had become uneven in quality, with no standard.

Unless one had an insider, a small bank was a deep inner palace that was easy to enter but hard to leave.

They first attract people with high interest rates. Once the money is deposited, whatever posture they want you to take, you must obediently take that posture; refusing is not an option.

Big banks are actually not that reliable either.

At least in the experiences before transmigration, news of bankruptcies such as the British Barings Bank, the American Lehman Brothers, and Silicon Valley Bank, even someone not belonging to the financial system like himself, knew from the loud news.

So these minefields must definitely be avoided.

Those with capital to play might find a way to snatch chestnuts from the fire; but someone like him, a small fry, would only be the leeks being harvested.

Don't end up so angry that you use Kryptonian abilities to rush into a bank to "administer justice."

Some banks' main business is actually financial investment; services like deposits, withdrawals, remittances, and transfers are considered side businesses. These banks have entry thresholds; either one needs an acquaintance to introduce you, or they simply reject "commoners" of Henry's level.

In short, the ways of American banks are fancy, and their methods are evil. One slight mistake and you fall into their trap, with nowhere to turn for help. Even if you sue in court, you cannot win against these giants under the law. After all, they are the ones who made the laws.

The statement that America was founded by financial conglomerates is no joke.

One could say that the more one thinks about it, the more one feels there are too many minefields around the goal of "opening a bank account." Even a Kryptonian with a super brain was thinking of giving up.

Just as he was driving along the road, he saw a Citibank on the roadside.

Henry thought that although he feared big shops bullying customers, once a place reaches a certain scale, many things become more standardized and transparent, which for him turned into a convenience.

He was not afraid of them having many rules; he was afraid of their rules drifting.

So Henry found a place to park, picked up his backpack, and walked towards Citibank.

New book seeking follows, collections, and recommendations; thank you~~

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(End of this chapter)