Looking Across America

The founding of the "Liberty Party" in 1840, in a sense, officially pulled back the curtain on the confrontation between the two distinct economic systems of the American North and South. In 1854—just two years ago—the establishment of the Republican Party, with its core mission of opposing slavery, acted like a spark thrown into a pile of kindling, igniting a raging fire across the North American continent.

President Buchanan, a Democrat who took office this year, represented the entire slave-owning class as he submitted the "Dred Scott" proposal to the Supreme Court, aiming to implement slavery nationwide.

The land of America was brewing a storm of rebellion and reform, and at this moment, James Howlett was busy expanding his estate's foundations and cellar, all while keeping a close eye on the rising turmoil in the neighboring United States.

"Considering the current instability, there isn't a safe enough place to store much of the family's wealth. Expanding the cellar into a massive basement is a good precaution, and I also plan to build several tunnels connecting the estate to the stables, warehouses, and other locations. It's best to have two secret routes in case of future..."

"Don't tell me about these things. Whatever you want to do, just do it! You are the one in charge of this family now."

Mr. Howlett sat on the porch in a rocking chair, covered by a wolf-skin blanket, basking in the sun. Beside him, his grandson peeled an apple while reporting on recent family affairs. The old man squinted, swaying back and forth as he interrupted James's continuous explanation, his face full of wrinkles and contentment.

"Alright, then I will continue with those arrangements. With so much construction going on at the estate lately, would you like to go rest at the cotton plantation in the east for a while? I'm afraid the noise will disturb your rest, Grandfather."

James pinched the peeled apple, flipped his hand to divide it into eight slices on a plate, and picked one up to offer to Mr. Howlett.

"No, no." Mr. Howlett chewed as he spoke, "If my old bones were to make a trip like that, I might just die out there. Staying here is fine; watching the people come and go and the bustle of the estate every day is enough to keep me entertained."

Mr. Howlett swallowed the food bit by bit, looked at James, and added:

"You don't need me watching over you to get things done anymore. When Daniel left, he said you were a child with a strong sense of purpose and that you've read many books. I can only help you keep those old fogies in check; I'm of no other use."

Mr. Howlett gave a playful laugh and then said loudly:

"You really should be looking for a woman. Our family has never been prolific, and it can't stay that way with you! What kind of family is an old man and a young boy? Never mind whether she's a wife or a mistress, just find a few who can bear children! I see your little maid has grown up, why not start with her..."

Mr. Howlett's lecherous words were interrupted by James's bitter smile. James promised his grandfather he would consider it as soon as possible, then made an excuse about having work to do, fleeing the room amidst Mr. Howlett's scolding.

Herbert Vernon had never received such a bizarre project. He was a Frenchman whose ancestors had been high-ranking officers in the French military during the struggle for control over this colony. After their defeat, the Vernon family did not return to France but instead began doing business on this land.

Because the family had primarily been responsible for construction and logistical maintenance while in the military, the Vernons continued in the same line of work.

Decades later, there was no builder in all of Canada greater than Herbert Vernon; several generations of commercial cultivation had proven far more lucrative than lingering in the military.

"Mr. Howlett, are you certain you want to proceed with this construction plan? Please rest assured regarding the technology and capability—there is absolutely no problem! It's just that building this deep is truly unnecessary; the time and cost of the project are far too great." Mr. Vernon shook his triple chin while holding the blueprints to discuss them with James.

By now, James was already referred to as "Mr. Howlett" by outsiders. Only in private did people use "Young Howlett" to distinguish him from the elder.

"I am certain, Mr. Vernon. Everything must be done according to these requirements. Do not consider the cost; complete it with all your might. And there is one most important point you must not forget: durability."

James instructed him firmly. After Mr. Vernon wiggled his bottom out of the tight chair and slowly took his leave, James had the butler invite in the manager of the machinery processing plant.

James had been thinking for a long time recently, gradually listing out a plan and beginning to implement it. On one hand, there was the construction of the family estate. As his "base of operations" and a place for cultivation for a long time to come, James needed an extremely vast and deep secret underground space.

To cope with potential problems decades or even a century later, James designed this space—which he called a basement or cellar—on the scale of an underground palace. It could extend from beneath the estate's foundation down into the underground space, with a main depth of thirty meters—already reaching the depth of the subways from his past life.

Furthermore, to avoid hindering the addition of more functions or future renovations, the entire underground project was designed as a basic framework, aside from being required to be excessively sturdy—enough to withstand a magnitude seven earthquake. It was designed so that the established structure would not affect any future modifications that might be needed.

If it weren't for the fact that this era had no concept of missiles or nuclear weapons, James would have wanted to build this "underground palace" as a nuclear-proof safe house.

On the other hand, there was his own martial arts training. His excessive physical fitness and potential forced him to custom-make a set of "torture devices" for himself.

There were five giant hollow lead balls ranging from five hundred to three thousand kilograms, filled with varying amounts of mercury. There was also armor-style weighted gear for his calves, thighs, chest, back, and arms. This ensured freedom of movement while allowing for the addition of lead weights, with a maximum load of three hundred kilograms.

A series of strength and physical training equipment from his past life, all with extreme weights, were included. The most unique piece was a solid steel rolling "cylinder." It was two meters in diameter and four meters high, with seven or eight iron rods, as thick as a calf and over half a meter long, protruding like the spikes of a mace.

The entire giant iron cylinder was also covered in fist-sized circular bumps. The roller could be pushed to rotate via the protruding iron rods, but to push this behemoth, at least three tons of kinetic energy were required.

At the same time, James had already arranged for people to go to major cities in the northern United States to understand the current situation and collect information. In this era, a plantation owner with vast lands was synonymous with a powerful magnate. However, with the rapid development of industry, the creation and production of factories and large machinery, the electrical revolution, and even the potential internet revolution, those who stubbornly clung to the land without seeking change would sooner or later become nothing more than simple farmers. More importantly, the sharpest conflict in the future of this world would be the opposition between James Howlett's race and all ordinary humans.

He had to be prepared.

As the American Civil War approached, making a move on this land—the most turbulent and powerful land of the future—was an inevitable choice.

The owner of the machinery plant, a man named Tom, had always supplied castings for steam train parts and ocean-going vessel equipment. He had never seen such strange blueprints and designs, and his instinct was to refuse the business of Young Mr. Howlett. However, tempted by the young man's offer of nearly triple the profit, he decided to go back and try.

Although he had no idea what these things—which looked like medieval armor or torture devices—were for, he couldn't turn away money. Besides, James had promised to cover all costs for mold testing and manufacturing.

Although Mr. Howlett said with his mouth that everything was up to James, if the old man saw his grandson spending his accumulated family fortune on these nonsensical things, he would surely be angered to the point of collapse.

James settled everything for the moment and returned to his room, fishing a black leather notebook from under his desk. He watched it carefully, stopping from time to time to think, and adding something to it.

This was everything he had recorded regarding his memories of the Marvel world since the day he realized what kind of world he was in. Most of it consisted of fragmented words, dates, and the progression of certain events.

For the sake of secrecy, he wrote in Chinese, a language rarely known in this era. At the very least, even if someone saw it within the next hundred years, they wouldn't recognize what language it was.

He drew two circles around a word and muttered to himself: "What the future holds all depends on whether I can find it..."

Finally finished. I had to delete and revise a lot, so please bear with me; there was no other way. I'm posting the evening chapter early. Thank you all for your support; I've seen it all!