I searched and fought in America.

At this moment, Rosen was observing some homeless people around him. Most of them had empty eyes and somewhat blank expressions.

Looking at their thin clothes, Rosen wondered what they would do if a cold wave came, since winter was approaching.

Hearing Caesar's voice, he looked toward the tent area, and just then, a furious and frenzied roar rang out from the left.

"I won! Haha, I won! All the money is mine!"

Caesar's ears twitched, and a smile appeared on his face: "Your Majesty, I've found him. That voice... he's definitely not missing."

Following the sound past several tents, in a relatively spacious open space, several men were squatting on the ground in a circle.

In the middle was a piece of cardboard with a few crumpled small-denomination US dollars and coins scattered on it.

One of the bearded black men was gesturing wildly, his eyes bloodshot with excitement; he was the down-on-his-luck little capitalist Caesar had mentioned—Ponsa.

"Hey, Ponz!" Caesar shouted at the top of his lungs.

Pomsa was busy collecting money when he heard the voice and turned around. Seeing it was Caesar, his tense shoulders relaxed. As he stuffed money into his pocket, he casually replied:

"Caesar? Instead of scavenging for junk at the recycling center, you're here smelling the stench?"

Without a word, Caesar walked over, put his arm around Ponz's shoulder, and dragged the skinny man into a corner.

"Hey! Hey! What are you doing? You're hurting me!" Pomsa complained, but he was obviously familiar with Caesar, so he didn't struggle much, just tightly clutching the little money he had just won.

After leading him to a secluded corner, Caesar released his grip, his expression turning serious:

"Ponsa, seriously, we need some chemicals. Can you get your hands on any?"

Pomsa paused for a moment, his gaze passing over Caesar to examine Morris behind him, finally settling on Rosen's young Chinese face, a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes.

"Let me introduce you. This is our Iron Claw Gang's Holy Father," Caesar said in a low voice, his tone tinged with reverence.

"What the hell?" Ponsa was completely dumbfounded. He stared wide-eyed at Rosen.

"This... this young man is your 'Holy Father'? Caesar, did you touch the enhancer and lose your mind?"

Although Pomsa was blunt, he had a good eye after being on the streets for so long.

He noticed that Maurice and Caesar, two seasoned gangsters, were indeed very respectful when facing this young Chinese man.

"Alright, I'm not interested in your internal affairs." Ponz waved his hand and looked directly at Rosen. "What do you want?"

Rosen stepped forward and calmly announced a few terms: "Sodium hydroxide, bentonite, ammonium persulfate, and corn starch."

After listening, Pomsa was stunned for a moment, then his furrowed brows relaxed.

He had initially thought these gangsters were looking for some illegal chemicals to make drugs, but what he heard were just some very ordinary things.

"That's it? These things are everywhere, they're not even contraband," Ponsa muttered. "I thought you were going to build a nuclear bomb."

"What purity level can you get? How much will it cost?" Rosen pressed.

"Don't worry about the purity; I still have the distribution channels from my old factory." A hint of melancholy flashed in Pang Sa's eyes as he mentioned this, before he quickly regained his shrewd demeanor. "How much do you want?"

"Each of you prepare 500 grams first." Rosen held up one finger. "We need to test the effect first. If it works, we'll buy in bulk later—a number you can't even imagine."

Upon hearing "bulk purchase," Pomsa's previously dejected expression instantly brightened.

For a homeless man who makes a living by gambling and collecting scrap, this is no less than a gift of gold from God.

"Deal! Bring the money tomorrow at this time, and the item will be absolutely top-of-the-line!"

The next day, in the evening.

Inside an abandoned small factory building of Iron Claw Recycling Company.

Several chemical substances that Rosen had just acquired were laid out in front of him.

Ponsa wasn't exaggerating; the powders and crystals were indeed of very pure color.

Besides these, there were also several beakers, a simple balance, and some base liquid that Rosen had personally prepared on the table.

Morris and Caesar stood guard at the door, their eyes fixed on Rosen.

Following the precise proportions given by the system in his mind, Rosen first dissolved the sodium hydroxide, then slowly added the corn starch, followed by the addition of bentonite to form a compound...

Finally, with the addition of ammonium persulfate, the originally viscous mixture in the container gradually solidified during the reaction. Rosen then took out the solid and ground it into a light gray powder.

Rosen wiped the sweat from his brow, picked up the small bag of powder, and walked out of the room.

"Is it done?" Caesar rushed over impatiently.

"You'll know once you try," Rosen said, pointing to the corner of the wall.

Without saying a word, Caesar carried in a broken oil drum that still contained more than half a barrel of waste gasoline.

Rosen pinched up a handful of powder and sprinkled it evenly into the oil drum.

Then, a scene that they would never forget happened.

zizi——

A faint buzzing sound came from the waste oil drum.

The originally flowing waste oil quickly converges towards the center the moment it comes into contact with the powder.

In less than a minute, the entire barrel of waste oil turned into a clump of gray solid.

Caesar couldn't help but swallow hard, and then boldly reached out to touch it.

"It's hard...it really is hard!"

He pulled hard, and the "oil block" was pulled out in one piece.

Caesar touched the inside of the oil drum again. His fingertips were clean, and apart from a slight lingering smell, there wasn't even a trace of oil left!

"Oh my god... oh my god!"

Caesar's face was flushed with excitement, and being white, the flush was particularly pronounced. He held the "solid block of oil" like a child, his voice trembling:

"This is simply a miracle... Father, this truly is a miracle!"

He turned his head, knelt down in front of Rosen with a thud, his eyes filled with fanaticism:

"What the Iron Claw Codex says is true, you are the incarnation sent by God, and you are born with knowledge!"

"The Holy Father will be blessed by God; you have received God's inheritance!!"

Maurice stood to the side, not as distraught as Caesar, but his hands, which were adjusting his glasses, were trembling violently.

As the gang's steward, he understood this better than Caesar.

This means that the environmental fines that have plagued the Iron Claw Gang for years will become worthless.

This means they can buy up all the waste oil in the city at a low price, process it into these high-calorie fuel blocks, and sell them at a high price.

No, they can sell these special powders directly; there will be no shortage of market demand, and countless people will be waving their money and coming to them for them!

This is not a scrap collection site.

This is robbery.

"With this technology..." Morris murmured to himself, his eyes brighter than ever before, "The Iron Claw Gang... no, Father, your light will illuminate the entire Ronnie community!"