If it had only been Kraft, he would have filled his stomach, patted his butt, and left. He couldn't be bothered wasting time here with this bunch of boring people.
But Francisco and Amy had come with him. Kraft didn't need to play nice with these people, but that didn't mean the other two didn't need this opportunity to expand their connections. Life for other ethnic groups in America was already difficult, and not everyone was as extreme as Kraft.
Only after going through many things did Kraft come to understand that people handled problems differently. So now, he had learned to avoid interfering with other people's choices based on his own likes and dislikes.
Unfortunately, even if Kraft wanted to quietly coast through this time, the others wouldn't give him the chance.
Martin Lee was indeed considered a financial tycoon now, but his skin color meant he was destined never to truly enter white social circles. Moreover, Martin's influence was largely confined to Chinatown, so in the eyes of those old-money magnates, Martin's status was even lower than Hammer's, despite Hammer having just made a complete fool of himself.
So after Slade Hammer, the vanguard, had failed, someone else soon stepped up to provoke Kraft, who was wandering around after eating his fill to help digest his food.
"Hey! Can that whatever slimming fridge of yours build muscles like mine?"
A burly white man blocked Kraft's path. He proudly flexed his biceps, his attitude exceptionally rude.
"Why don't you buy one and try it yourself? You don't look like you can't afford it. Or did you spend all your allowance on protein powder?"
Since the other party was being so rude, Kraft naturally didn't bother putting on a pleasant face. He curled his lip disdainfully at the musclehead before him.
That guy might be covered in muscles, but Kraft wasn't afraid of him in a real fight. Back when he and Martin Lee had wandered the streets, he had gotten into plenty of fights with street punks. It wasn't as if he had never taught overgrown greenhouse babies like this one a lesson before. The moment they saw blood, they chickened out. He just had to be careful not to get knocked down in one blow at the start.
Besides, he now had technological products from his dreams to protect himself.
Kraft touched the bracer on his wrist. It was the Arm Strength Enhancement Bracer he had modified from the Power-Enhancing Shoes. He had tested it before—once activated, lifting Fatty Liao one-handed was as easy as playing around.
"I'm not wasting money on your scam toys!"
The musclehead deliberately raised his voice, putting on an enraged expression before stiffly delivering what was obviously a rehearsed line.
"We don't welcome scammers here! Don't think having a little fame makes you some big shot!"
"What terrible acting... If you want to pick a fight, just say so. This roundabout kind of provocation doesn't suit a big idiot like you. You simply don't have the intelligence for such complicated work."
The idiot's eye-searing performance completely exhausted Kraft's patience. He decisively turned toward the surrounding onlookers.
"If you want to cause trouble, can't you find someone smarter? Or are idiots like this all you have here? That would be really disappointing..."
Kraft raised his thumb and pointed it over his shoulder at the musclehead, sneering.
"Who are you calling an idiot?! You yellow monkey!"
The enraged musclehead reached for Kraft's shoulder. Already prepared, Kraft bent down and spun aside, dodging his hand before kicking him in the stomach. Still, all those muscles hadn't been built for nothing. Kraft's kick felt like it had struck a car tire.
The musclehead only staggered back two steps. As if nothing had happened, he patted the dust from his stomach and mocked, "That didn't hurt at all. Aren't you Chinese immigrants all supposed to know that Kung Fu stuff? The kind where you jump around like monkeys?"
"It's always the same few lines. I'm fucking sick of hearing them." Kraft dug at his ear with a disgusted expression. "Don't you white pigs have any fresher vocabulary? Sigh... Then again, what can I expect? You only have around two hundred years of history, and even your language was inherited from Great Britain. I was asking too much."
While sharply firing back, Kraft quietly flipped the hidden switches beneath both bracers. He wasn't afraid of this musclehead based on his own abilities, but the difference in physical fitness was there. Even if he won, he would still get hurt. Kraft didn't think an idiot like this deserved to trade injuries with him.
"I'll beat you to death, you yellow monkey!"
The musclehead swung his fist at Kraft, still spewing curses.
The moment Kraft saw the way the musclehead threw his punch, he laughed. Not only did this guy lack real combat experience, he had never learned boxing or any other fighting techniques. Still, he charged pretty quickly. He probably played contact sports like football or hockey, which explained why those spoiled rich kids had pushed him out to be their weapon.
Straightforward attacks like this were the easiest to deal with. Kraft only had to shift his body slightly to dodge it. But with science-enhanced power in his arms, he gave up evasion and chose to meet the musclehead head-on.
Kraft swiftly caught the fist flying toward his head, forcibly stopping the musclehead's movement. Then, without moving his lower body at all, he casually swung the hand holding that fist to the side. The muscular man, two heads taller than Kraft and several sizes larger, was thrown several meters away and landed on the nearby lawn. He couldn't get back up for a long while.
"Kung Fu. Have you seen it now?"
Kraft lightly clapped his hands twice, then imitated the grandmasters from Wuxia films by placing his hands behind his back. With a calm expression, he put on an air of superiority.
The students who had been whispering among themselves and waiting for a show were all stunned. Kraft's counterattack had clearly exceeded their expectations. After an awkward silence, the security guards who had been nowhere to be seen, along with the person in charge who had led Kraft and the others inside, finally emerged from who knew where.
"What happened here? Who's causing trouble?!"
The person in charge shouted theatrically, then fixed Kraft, who stood at the center of the crowd, with a sharp glare, hoping to put some pressure on him.
However, Kraft had no intention of playing along. He straightened cuffs that had already been perfectly neat while looking back at him with a faintly amused smile.
After staring at Kraft for a while, the man realized the glare tactic he had learned from his elders had no effect whatsoever. He awkwardly withdrew his gaze, then turned and snarled at the two security guards behind him, "What are you standing around for? Hurry up and get Lewis treated!"
The security guards here were long used to the trouble these young masters and ladies caused from time to time. This wasn't their first time handling something like this. But the school paid well.
After responding casually, the two guards walked over to Lewis, who was lying on the ground pretending to be unconscious out of embarrassment. In silent coordination, they hauled him up from either side and carried him away.
At the same time, an older male student stepped out from behind the student who had been responsible for receiving Kraft and the others. Every gesture he made carried an air of elegance, distinctly different from Hammer's nouveau riche manner. When he appeared, the person in charge, who had been so arrogant before Kraft's group, immediately showed a fawning smile and quickly stepped aside to make way for him.
"I'm very sorry. Lewis is an idiot with nothing but muscles in his head. I apologize on his behalf."
The man walked up to Kraft and gave a slight bow.
"Felim Jones, an eleventh-grade student at Dalston Elite Private Middle School, and also the student council president. I have the honor of overseeing this year's ball."
Dalston Elite Private Middle School was the school that owned the campus specially used for gatherings where Kraft and the others currently were. Put simply, it was the host of this ball.
"It's fine. It's not like I lost anything."
Kraft shrugged, answering with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Your methods were just a little childish. I'm disappointed."
Felim's smile did not change as he answered neither softly nor harshly, "There are so many schools participating, aren't there? I'm only Dalston's student council president. I can't control what students from other schools think. Although I don't welcome transfer students like you, Dalston still has basic manners."
"Clap, clap, clap."
Kraft lightly applauded in admiration.
"You let others do the dirty work while you sit back and watch the show. You're far more shameless than that nouveau riche guy earlier."
Kraft believed Felim had not intended to provoke him personally, but did he need to? Among these so-called elites, plenty wanted to make trouble for his group. Felim didn't need to get involved himself. As the host of this ball, his failure to stop the others' actions had already revealed his stance. Yet he was still talking about basic manners here...
Kraft sneered, no longer paying attention to the thick-skinned man in front of him. He walked around him and continued wandering around.
"Senior Felim, that guy is way too ungrateful. Should we find someone to teach him a proper lesson?"
The student responsible for receiving Kraft's group moved closer to Felim, indignantly declaring his loyalty while hoping to use Felim's hand to vent his own resentment. In his view, losing their earlier exchange of glances to Kraft had been humiliating. Given the chance, he naturally wanted to win one back.
Felim naturally saw through the man's little scheme, but he did not expose it. He merely waved a hand calmly. "We won't have anything to do with each other after this. There's no need to make another enemy for ourselves."
Most of the students watching the show shared Felim's view. They had seen the show, and Kraft had displayed both strength and toughness. Continuing the conflict might very well drag them in as well, so they chose to let the matter rest just as Felim had.
Once this group of core members settled down, those who depended on them for a living naturally would not make nuisances of themselves either. The sight of Kraft throwing Lewis one-handed had been quite intimidating.
Thus, the three who had initially been surrounded by onlookers were suddenly isolated. Seeing this, Francisco and Amy also gave up on trying to squeeze into those people's circle. They followed Kraft as they sampled life at an aristocratic school, then left early without even waiting for the ball to officially begin.