Master Of Time 5 America 1950

"Wow, the past really sucks."

This is the first impression I got when I was sitting in a dirty and crowded bar.

Retro-a.s.s cars are pa.s.sing by the window, driving up a lot of dust and smokes.

People are spitting on the street while reading newspapers.

One of the kids is taking a leak just across the road.

Honestly, having lived in the wonderful future for long, the sudden change in scenery is disconcerting.

Technically, I can return to the future again, but it wouldn't be the same future I have come from. No, it would be the future of this timeline.

This is because the moment I step into the past, a completely new timeline will be created simply due to my existence.

This new timeline runs in parallel to one I have come from – so no killing your grandfather paradox.

Since that is the case, I want to minimize the effect of my presence as much as possible.

The historical information I have collected from the future would be a completely waste if everything changes due to my actions.

"What will it be?"

A cute waitress asks me.

Without any menu, I look around and order whatever everyone was drinking.

She brings me a c.o.ke afterwards and expects payment immediately.

I guess that this is the norm in 1950.

Unfortunately, I didn't prepare any currency for this time period.

It wasn't because I have forgotten to. It was because it is quite impossible to find any paper bills from this time period in the 31st century.

I did, however, brought back a lot of golds in the form of coins. They are stashed in several pouches in my briefcase.

Gold should be worth something in any time period.

"Sorry. I don't have any money on me right now. Do you know where a gold shop is?"

The waitress didn't know what a gold shop is, but she did tell me that if I want to trade golds, I should go to the bank instead. She also points me to the right direction.

"Alright. I will be right back. Save my drink."

The bank is just around the corner.

It is crowded with people.

I stand in line, waiting patiently until my turn.

It takes a while, and this is one of those times that I wish I could speed things up.

Unfortunately, it isn't possible to put myself on autopilot and fast forward – or maybe it is possible?

In any case, when it is my turn, I approach the window.

The teller beyond is a cute girl – as cute as the waitress.

It seems s.e.x sells very well during this time period – not that I mind.

However, I am not as h.o.r.n.y as to the time when I am a teenager.

"Hi there. I want to exchange this. I have like 9 more the same."

I drop a pouch of gold coins in front of her. She looks inside before gasping.

"Excuse me. Please wait here for a moment."

The teller goes off and calls someone higher. When she comes back with a man, she invites me to join that person in private.

I follow the man into a private room without hesitation. This is the bank, so I don't need to fear about getting robbed.

"My name is Henry Oxford. What can I do for you, sir…?"

The man speaks up when we are alone.

"Maximilien Maxwell. You can call me Max."

That isn't my name or the name I have used in the future. I have figured that since no body knows me in this time, I might as well create a new ident.i.ty for myself.

Both my first name and last name has the word "max" in it.

Once I finish introducing myself, I tell him exactly what I want. I want to open an account with his bank and deposit all my gold coins into the account.

Price of gold per ounce in 1950 is about $40.25, meaning at each coin is worth that much. Since there are at least 30 gold coins in each pouch, my total wealth is at least $12000.

It is a far cry from trillions and trillions of dollars I once have in the future.

However, the amount is enough for me to get started.

After Henry helps me exchange the gold coins for good old American dollars, I give him $100 to buy him as my personal a.s.sistant to the bank.

The amount is a lot of money for Henry considering the minimum wages is around $1 an hour.

"Thank you for opening an account with us today Mr. Maxwell. If you need anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to ask. We do hope to see you again soon."

Henry is very happy.

I withdraw at least $1000 dollars from my account to use as capital, as I needed to raise some funding quickly for what I have in mind.

By the way, the gla.s.s of c.o.ke cost 6 cents – just so you know.

I did come back to the bar to have a drink and pay the waitress a $1.

6 cents for the drink and the rest is tip, about 1600% tips.

Interestingly, she asks for my name and whether I am free in the evening.

I suppose I could spare some time for her since I will be around for a few days or so.

"I will drop by when I am free. See you, Lorelei."

I tell her before finding my way to the race tracks. Horse racing is one of the most favorite pastimes in 1950, so there are a s.h.i.+t ton of people there, betting on horses.

With my power, it is incredibly easy to multiple my capital.

I didn't bother to wait around for the best odd. I just bet on whichever horse will definitely win in the race, repeatedly.

By the fourth winning streak, the teller is sweating profusely.

This is because I have just multiple my capital of $1000 by almost 250 times, causing a scene. It is not possible to be that lucky, especially I am incredible confidence on which horse will win.

Men and women wonder when my luck will finally run out. Some even bet the same as me last round, earning a hefty amount.

"I think you have enough for the day."

A man tells me when I try to place my bet for the fifth time, putting almost $250,000 on a 5 to 1 odd.

If I win, I would have $1.5 million – an incredible sum for 1950.

Sadly, I think I have overstayed my welcome. It will be very troublesome if I ignore his warning. Horse betting is usually run by mobs after all.

The atmosphere becomes incredibly heavy when the ma.s.sive man places a hand on my shoulder. He exerts his strength, causing me to wince.

"Alright. I guess I have enough. Thanks for the friendly reminder."

I head out of the race track with a briefcase full of cash amidst the envies of everyone. It is probably enough for now.

As I head to the bank to deposit the cash, I notice several people follows me closely behind.

They didn't hide their trailing at all – typical goons.

When there is no body nearby, one of the goons speaks up.

"Leave the briefcase if you know what is good for you?"

I turn around and look at the four guys before placing down the briefcase. I stretch my shoulder a little with a smile on my face.

"Really? Even I don't know what is good for me."

The two goons immediately grab my arms, one on each side. The third one about to give me a beating, but before he could, the two holding me screams in terror.

He recoils back in fear. His eyes couldn't believe what they saw.

The two men that are holding my arms has their flesh literally rotted off their face, revealing a skull.

Their hair grows rapidly, turning grey before falling out of their skull.

Their bones crack and crumple into dust.

All that remains is ashes and their clothes.

"What…!? My G.o.d!"

I put the man in front of me in a chokehold before looking at the last person.

That person attempts to run away in fear, but he didn't get very far. He manages to get away a couple of steps before falling forwards, shattering like fragile ice against the ground. The pieces then break down even further, scattering like dust in the wind.

The man in my chokehold sees all of this. He screams in absolute terror.

"Shut up or you will join your friends in h.e.l.l."

The man immediately shut up. His pants become damps. He just literally p.i.s.ses himself.

"Good. Let's have a talk, shall we?"