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Dimensional Trader in Marvel

One day, after waking up from a dream, Josh found himself transported from the 21st century to Chicago in 1943, transformed into a poor young boy wandering the streets. World War II? For Josh, who hadn't yet reached adulthood, it seemed too far away. As an orphan, the most important thing for him was figuring out how to survive in this era. Fortunately, he had a dimensional trading system, and in this time, being a space-time trader seemed like it could provide a comfortable life. However, a few months later, just as his life started to improve, Josh stared in silence at the stage of a war charity performance, where Captain America was singing and dancing with a group of girls. It's over. He was doomed. This place was actually the Marvel Universe! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Patreon : patreon.com/AHumanMadeMOFO If you want to support and read ahead, there are already 25+ chapters available. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE: THIS IS A TRANSLATION AND I DON'T OWN THE BOOK BESIDE THE TRANSLATED CONTENT ITSELF. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Original Name: 美漫位面交易器 Author: 星际大灰尘

AHumanMadeMOFO · 作品衍生
分數不夠
19 Chs

Chapter 11: New Home

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Josh's impression was that the most famous dishes in Turkey were roasted meat and ice cream. When he looked at the menu, however, he realised that there were actually quite a few options, although the main cooking method was still roasting.

What they didn't have was the world-famous Döner kebab. Although it was called a Turkish kebab, it was actually invented by Germans in 1971.

For the main course, he ordered a swordfish kebab, a beef kebab and roasted aubergine, and didn't order anything else because Turkish food is served in large portions.

Margaret's order was simpler; she just asked for a small lamb chop and a salad.

When the food arrived, Josh couldn't wait to get started. He had only bought a hot dog on his way out that morning and was already starving.

While Josh was enjoying his meal with the beautiful woman, a group of people on the South Side of Chicago were getting restless because of him.

It was still the old warehouse, but now it was crowded with more than a dozen people where before there had been hardly anyone.

Among them was a middle-aged Italian man with a sombre expression, sitting confidently behind a desk with a cup of coffee in his hand. He was Eddie Scappa, third-in-command of the Moretti family, one of the three major families of the Chicago Mafia.

The original owner of this place, a black car dealer called Mike, was now kneeling in front of the desk alongside a car thief called Joe.

It was clear from the bruises on their faces that they had been given a warm welcome by Eddie's men.

The atmosphere in the warehouse was tense. As a high-ranking member of the Mafia, Eddie Scappa was undoubtedly an anti-social figure. He had followed the current head of the Moretti family, Carlo Facconi, since the prohibition era of the 1920s.

They were about the same age as Josh.

After nearly twenty years of struggle, they had gone from small-time bootleggers on the streets to top bosses of the Chicago Mafia, with countless lives stained on their hands.

Faced with such a dangerous man, both Mike and Joe were filled with extreme fear.

Mike had no idea how much he regretted taking this man's job.

Just as they waited anxiously, another of Eddie's men entered the warehouse.

"Boss, there's news. Someone saw this car leave town from the west and it hasn't come back since," the man said, leaning into Eddie's ear.

Eddie nodded at the news and then stood up to face Mike and Joe.

"My men have news. It seems you weren't lying; the other party is indeed not local and has left Chicago. It's going to be difficult to get the car back," Eddie said slowly.

"Eddie, since you've checked everything out, can I go now?" Joe asked, forcing a twisted smile onto his chubby face to please Eddie.

Mike, however, looked at him with a look that suggested he was an idiot.

Did he really think that this guy would let them go once the matter was settled? The young man was too naive.

If the Mafia were reasonable, they wouldn't be the Mafia.

"Ha, leave? Sure, the car is worth eight thousand dollars. Mike will pay for half, and you for the other half. Bring the money and you can go," Eddie sneered, laying out his terms.

"Huh?" Joe was stunned. Four thousand dollars? As a petty thief, where could he get that kind of money?

"What do you mean, 'huh'? I can't find the person who stole the car, but the car was lost on your watch. You didn't protect it well, so you must take responsibility," Eddie replied coldly.

"Don't say I'm being unreasonable. I'll give you a week. I don't care if you steal or rob; just get me that money. Of course, if you can get the same car, that will work too."

"If I don't see the money in a week, I'll throw you in the lake!"

"Don't think you can run away. I will have someone watching you and your families. If you try to escape, I guarantee it won't just be you who dies. Of course, Joe, I know you don't have a family, but you do have friends. You wouldn't want to take your little mates down with you, would you?" Eddie said with a sneer and patted Joe on the face.

Then he walked out of the warehouse without looking back, followed by his men.

Only Mike and Joe were left, their faces pale.

Eight thousand dollars was a lot of money.

For the Mafia bosses, it was pocket change.

But Joe and Mike were different; in fact, they weren't even official members of the Mafia, just peripheral figures picking up the organisation's scraps.

For lowlifes like them, it could take years of not eating or drinking to save that kind of money.

And they only had a week...

"What are we going to do?" Joe asked Mike, his voice shaking.

He felt he was the most innocent of all, just trying to sell a stolen old car. He hadn't made much money and yet here he was, caught up in such a mess.

"I don't know. Figure it out!" Mike said, avoiding Joe's pleading eyes.

Unlike Joe, Mike was only an outsider to the Mafia, but he had a decent amount of savings, having access to many black market car trading routes. While eight thousand dollars was out of reach, he could scrape together four thousand dollars with some effort.

So it was a stroke of luck for him that Joe took on half the responsibility. If he had been alone when he stole the car, he would have been in a lot of trouble.

Now he might only suffer financially, but at least he wouldn't die.

As for Joe, he didn't care.

Of course, if he'd known that Joe's car theft had led to this mess with Josh, he probably wouldn't have thought so.

Seeing Mike's evasive eyes, Joe realised that he wouldn't get any help from the old fox.

All he could do was drag his beaten and bruised body out of the old warehouse, looking lost and dejected.

As he watched Joe's retreating figure, Mike sighed inwardly. To come up with four thousand dollars in such a short time, he might have to rob a bank. Of course, there were other options like theft, robbery or smuggling, but those usually took time to liquidate, and a week wasn't enough.

Josh had no idea what was going on in that old warehouse, and even if he did, he wouldn't care.

After all, the whole situation was triggered by Joe stealing his car. If you do something, you pay the price; that's the way the adult world works.

At that moment, Margaret was giving him a tour of his new home.

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