I Think That's Pretty Scientific

Chapter 1: 001: Kraft Lee

“Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring!!!” The shrill sound of the alarm clock rang out frantically, shattering the early morning tranquility. In a slightly cluttered room, a small, somewhat rough hand reached out from under the covers, deftly grabbing the alarm clock on the nightstand and silencing it. “Click.” As the alarm was silenced, a monkey plush toy by the bed seemed to be tugged by something and fell straight backward, the back of its head landing precisely on an inconspicuous button behind it. Immediately afterward, a faint mechanical click sounded, and the slats of the bed where the small hand’s owner lay suddenly gave way. Kraft Lee, still half-asleep, fell through without a moment’s hesitation. Then… “Aaaaaah!!!!!!” A shriek even more piercing than the alarm clock rang out repeatedly. Dazed and disoriented, Kraft sat up abruptly, clutching his ears, amidst a flock of screeching chickens. Kraft rubbed his bedhead and staggered down the stairs. His head was still buzzing, and with low blood sugar from waking up early, it would likely take him a while to come to his senses. In a daze, relying on old habits, Kraft shuffled over to the dining table with a drunken gait, sat down, and stared blankly at the tabletop, yawning from time to time. It wasn’t until Mr. Li, Kraft’s adoptive father, placed breakfast in front of him that he snapped out of it, returning from his daydream. “Looks like the new way you’ve set up to wake yourself up is working pretty well,” Mr. Li said as he took two bottles of milk out of the fridge, placed one in front of Kraft, and added, “It’s just a bit loud—it even startled me downstairs.” “Bread and milk again…” Kraft ignored his adoptive father’s comment, took a baguette, took a big bite, and mumbled his complaint. “We’re of Chinese descent, after all. Even if we don’t have century egg and lean pork congee or jianbing, we should at least have some steamed buns and soy milk!” “I’m sorry, Kraft, but I don’t know how to make any of those things.” Mr. Li sat down across from Kraft with a smile and began munching on a baguette of his own. “So you’d better hurry up and find me a mom,” Kraft urged, waving the gnawed-down baguette. “It has to be a Chinese woman who can cook.” “You’ve been nagging me to get married all day long, just so you can find yourself a cook?” Mr. Li’s face darkened, and the baguette in his hand instantly lost its appeal. “Well… isn’t there a saying that goes something like…” Kraft shrank his head back a bit and argued stubbornly, “Um… ‘Where there’s milk, there’s a mother’? That’s right! That’s exactly it!” “Sigh… that saying isn’t used that way…” Mr. Li let out a long, helpless sigh, his voice full of weariness. “Oh, come on, it’s pretty much the same idea,” Kraft said with a grin, waving his hand dismissively. “Just get the gist of it.” “If you really want to eat steamed buns and fried dough sticks, I can help you order from Fumanlou.” Although Kraft was only his adopted son, the bond between them went far beyond that of simply adoptive parent and child, so Mr. Li treated Kraft no differently than his own biological son. “Never mind then,” Kraft flatly refused. “Liao the Fat Guy’s place is way too expensive—I can’t afford it, I just can’t.” “You can afford it,” Mr. Li said with a pleased smile. “I’m considered a wealthy man now, after all—I don’t have to be as frugal as I used to be. Besides, aren’t you earning your own money? If you’re really craving it, just go to Fumanlou and treat yourself to a nice meal.” “No, thanks. Bread is fine,” Kraft shoveled the baguette into his mouth in one gulp, then washed it down with two big gulps of milk. “The little money I make isn’t even enough to buy new supplies. As for your money, Martin, you should save it to help the people at FEAST.” After quickly finishing breakfast, Kraft picked up his backpack, which had been sitting nearby, and strode toward the door. “I’m off to school.” He completely ignored Martin Lee’s roar from behind him. “Hey! You haven’t washed up yet!” “Washing my face and brushing my teeth is such a hassle…” Once outside, Kraft pulled a piece of gum from his pocket, popped it into his mouth, and started chewing. Then he roughly rubbed his face and hair a few times with his hands—and that was that. Just then, the school bus that picked up and dropped off students appeared around the corner. “Hmm, right on time.” Kraft glanced at the time on his watch and nodded with satisfaction. “My ‘Screaming Chicken’ operation was a huge success~~~ though it was a bit too intense…” Recalling the terrifying ordeal of struggling to get up from a swarm of Screaming Chickens just moments ago, Kraft couldn’t help but shudder. “I guess I really do need to fine-tune this a bit more.” “Hey! Kraft! Over here!” As soon as he boarded the school bus, a familiar face greeted him. The person calling out to him was also a Chinese-American with yellow skin—none other than the young owner of Fu Man Lou mentioned earlier, the very same “Fat Liao” Kraft had spoken of. “Good morning, David.” Kraft exchanged greetings with his classmates as he walked over and sat down next to David Liao. “You’re actually here early waiting for the school bus today—so did that ‘Shrieking Chicken’ operation work out?” With a broad smile on his face, “Fat Liao” couldn’t wait for Kraft to even settle into his seat before asking eagerly. “It was a success… but it left me a bit traumatized… still needs some tweaking.” Kraft’s face took on an expression that said more than words could. “Oh… what a shame. I was hoping to help you sell this awakening system to Phyllis and the others sooner.” Liao the Fat said with a tone full of regret. “Give it a rest,” Kraft shot him a withering glance. “Didn’t I tell you ages ago? I have to go to their place to modify this thing—it’s a huge hassle. It’s not worth selling at all.” After a pause, Kraft glanced sideways at Liao the Fat and asked, “Are you short on cash again, Mr. Liao? You’re actually eyeing my measly cut… I don’t think any new games have come out recently, have they? The comic magazine just went on sale three days ago… Have you set your sights on some new collector’s item?” Hearing Kraft’s question, Liao the Fat, who had been smiling broadly, instantly changed his expression. With a look of grief and indignation, he complained, “It’s all my mom’s fault! She decided to do a big spring cleaning out of the blue, and they discovered my entire collection! But after I argued my case, my parents agreed to let me buy all those treasures back at their original prices!” The “collection” Liao Fatso was referring to was actually a well-known magazine—*Playboy*—but he was very particular; he absolutely wouldn’t collect any issues with cover girls he didn’t find to his taste. But Uncle Liao and Aunt Liao were actually willing to let him buy those magazines back… They really live up to their reputation as shady shop owners! They don’t even spare their own child! “Serves him right!” Having just celebrated his fourteenth birthday not long ago, Kraft—whose interests hadn’t yet shifted to girls—couldn’t quite understand Fat Liao’s obsession. A woman who can’t cook is less useful than a hex wrench! “So, haven’t you come up with any new inventions lately?” Liao the Fat, with tears welling up in his eyes, hugged Kraft and wouldn’t let go. “If nothing else, just make some more ‘Brain-Crush’ gadgets and trap locks—I’ll take them to other middle schools to sell!” “No way!” Kraft flatly refused. He’d already made so many “Brain-Crushers” and “Trap Locks” to raise funds that he was sick of them—now just hearing those names made him feel queasy. “Don’t be like that… Without my treasures, I won’t be able to go on living!” Fat Liao threw his arms around Kraft’s waist and began wailing. “David, don’t worry. When you’re on your deathbed, I’ll let you take a peek at my personal collection to keep you going a little longer. How about that? Pretty good friend, huh?” An African-American student who shared Fat Liao’s hobby teased him gleefully, speaking at the rapid-fire pace typical of Black people. “Get lost!” Fat Liao flipped the middle finger at that snarky friend, then declared with righteous indignation, “I can’t stand those big-bottomed Black chicks in your collection!” “Hey! David! I won’t let you insult my goddess!” Then the two old perverts—one light-skinned, one dark-skinned—got into a heated debate over their respective aesthetic standards. But soon, Fat Liao was completely shut down by the Black guy’s retort: “What’s the point of all this talk? Your collection’s already been confiscated anyway.” Only then did he remember his original purpose; he wrapped his arms around Kraft’s waist once more and began wailing pitifully. Kraft was thoroughly fed up with Fat Liao’s whining and said to him, “The ‘Brain-Shattering Artifact’ and the mechanical lock are definitely gone, but I’ve had some new ideas lately. Once the equipment I ordered arrives in a few days, we’ll get to work. When it’s done, we’ll post the video online and see what kind of reaction we get.” “Count on you, bro!” Liao the Fat gave Kraft a hearty slap on the back, and Kraft rolled his eyes in response, not bothering to pay him any mind. However, the other students were all getting excited by now and crowded around to ask questions. “Kraft, do you have a new invention?” “Can you tell us what kind of invention it is?” “Please don’t make it too expensive—that toilet robot you invented last time was way out of my price range.” “That thing wasn’t meant to be sold to us in the first place, okay? It’s for customers of the ‘Skilled Hands’ channel. I heard quite a few people bought it.” “It’s so great to be rich…” “Yeah, yeah…” Fantas High School, where Kraft attended, wasn’t exactly a prestigious school. Most of the students came from families of modest means, while the rest were children from other ethnic backgrounds, like Kraft and Fat Liao. Since the school’s board of trustees was largely made up of Asian Americans, many Asian Americans in New York were willing to send their children there. Although the United States shouts slogans about human rights and equality day in and day out, in reality, it’s all bullshit—non-whites are bound to face discrimination in this country. Back when he escaped the Magia Gang with Martin Lee, Kraft had more than his share of encounters with those people’s ugly true colors. That’s why, after Martin Lee made his fortune, he established the FEAST homeless shelter to help the poor. Kraft had even suggested not admitting white people, but unfortunately, Martin rejected the idea. It’s a shame I don’t yet have the ability to create those magical gadgets; otherwise, I’d definitely teach those Magia Gang guys a lesson! Recalling those tragic experiences, Kraft gritted his teeth in silent fury at the Magia Gang, the culprits behind it all. It’s time for the usual round of criticism. Once again, the protagonist is on the villains’ side… It’s not on purpose; it’s just that there are so few Chinese characters in the Marvel universe to begin with, and since Martin Lee isn’t exactly a fan favorite, his character is pretty vague to begin with, which makes it easier to add my own creative twists. As for updates, I’ll just have to stick to daily posts, but I’ll try my best to hit 3,000 words per update. I’m not sure how long I can keep this up, though… Finally, please add this to your favorites, recommend it, and hit the “triple click” buttons~