I revived the Demonic Sect in North America

Fiona stared blankly at Li Ang.

According to the system's assessment, she was a girl with a gentle personality who was prone to developing feelings of love and dependence on responsible men.

The sense of responsibility that Li Ang exuded in his words immediately caused her sense of dependence to ferment and swell uncontrollably.

At the same time, the scene of her misunderstanding Li Ang last night, tearing off Li Ang's clothes and seeing Li Ang naked, also flashed through her mind again, almost inexplicably.

Fiona felt flustered and her cheeks inexplicably flushed.

She dared not think any further, quickly lowered her eyelashes, and gave a soft "hmm".

Perhaps it was the lingering effect of the sedative, or perhaps Li Ang had truly calmed her down, but a strong sense of fatigue and weakness returned.

Fiona quickly fell into a deep sleep again, but this time, she never let go of Leon's hand.

Li Ang waited until her breathing became long and steady before gently withdrawing his hand, carefully tucking the blanket around her, and then quietly getting up.

I'm going out to get Fiona something nice to eat to help her recover her energy.

Since there was no system before, they could only resort to eating relief meals.

Now that we have a system, why are we still eating welfare meals? What's the point of having the system if we're just wasting our time?

The South Bronx is a notorious culinary desert.

The street corners and alleys are not filled with greasy fried chicken shops or pizza shops.

It's a run-down convenience store that sells expired canned goods and soft drinks.

Finding something decent and fresh to eat is not an easy thing.

Li Ang knew that there was a Liddell supermarket near the edge of the river valley community.

The owner is a traditional, old-fashioned German immigrant who has an almost obsessive demand for the freshness of ingredients.

Although the prices are slightly higher than other discount supermarkets, it is the most reliable choice in this area.

When we arrived at Liddell Supermarket, it was already dawn, and the east was turning a pale white.

Pushing open the heavy glass door, a whiff of air mixed with fresh fruits and vegetables, spices, and a faint fishy smell wafted out.

The aisle is narrow, and the shelves are a bit cramped.

But all the goods were neatly arranged and clearly labeled.

There are very few customers at this restaurant; most of them are white or Asian.

Conversely, the Black faces that are common on the streets of the South Bronx are rarely seen here.

With a clear goal in mind, Li Ang pushed a shopping cart straight to the fresh produce section.

He carefully examined the labels and the color of the meat, and finally chose two large, thick-cut pieces of beef hind leg.

It weighed about five pounds in total and cost $25.

I picked out a pound or so of pork ribs that looked pretty good, and also took a few orange-red carrots.

I'm planning to make Fiona a soup to help her recover her energy.

For his main meal, he took a ten-pound bag of rice.

Compared to dry bread with lots of additives, rice is more filling and better suits Li Ang's large appetite, which he inherited from his parents.

This bag of rice costs $10.

Of course, as a true Chinese descendant, vegetables are also an essential part of the meal.

It has to be said that vegetables in the United States are really expensive.

Li Ang only took two small handfuls of spinach, and it cost him $4.

He also grabbed a bag of brown onions, a few cloves of garlic, salt, sugar, and a bottle of the cheapest soy sauce.

To ensure Fiona could have a hot meal as soon as she woke up, he gritted his teeth and found two more insulated lunch boxes that looked decent quality at the bottom of the shelf.

Based on his years of experience reading novels from Qidian's overseas editions, Li Ang knew that this thing only cost a dozen or so yuan to wholesale in Yiwu, Shandong.

However, when they crossed the ocean to America, the labels clearly showed that they cost $20 each.

Based on the 2010 exchange rate, it has increased more than tenfold.

"Damn capitalists, they're fucking robbing people."

Li Ang cursed inwardly, but still took two.

With just these two dishes and a soup, the total cost was nearly a hundred dollars.

That's almost a thousand yuan.

Li Ang couldn't help but sigh to himself that in the United States, eating high-calorie junk food was indeed cheaper than cooking for himself.

In what is supposedly the freest country in the world, the poor don't even have the freedom to cook.

After buying his things, he carried the heavy shopping bags, gritted his teeth, and hailed a taxi.

Time was of the essence; he had to get the meal ready before Fiona woke up.

Li Ang's cooking skills were honed by the harsh realities of life; he wouldn't dare call them exquisite, but they are definitely solid and effective.

His signature dish is "Riborita soup," a traditional dish from the Italian town of Tuscany.

"Libolita" is an Italian word that translates to "cooked again".

The origin story is that in the Middle Ages, poor people would rummage through the trash cans after a nobleman's banquet.

Gather leftover bread, vegetable scraps, and meat bones at home and stew them together.

If you reheat it the next day, the bread will absorb all the broth and have a unique flavor.

This dish embodies the survival wisdom of the poor, who used their ingenuity and patience to turn waste into treasure during times of extreme scarcity.

This wisdom also extended to Li Ang, who struggled to survive in America.

But today is different; he now has real, delicious meat and vegetables.

I'm planning to give Fiona a shocking taste of home-style Dong cuisine.

Back in the kitchen, Li Ang immediately got to work, familiar with the routine.

Slice the onion into thin strips, and cut the beef into thin slices against the grain. Marinate the beef with a little soy sauce, starch, and oil.

Put the pork ribs in a pot of cold water to blanch and remove the blood foam. Then put them into a small saucepan along with the carrots cut into chunks, two slices of ginger, and simmer over low heat.

While the rice cooker was cooking rice, Li Ang planned to go out and quickly sell the gold he had to exchange it for cash, just in case.

But glancing at the clock on the wall, it wasn't even seven o'clock yet, so I didn't know if Saizeriya's shop was open yet.

Li Ang returned to his room, rummaged through a drawer to find Salia's business card, and walked to the public phone booth outside.

Then I inserted a coin and dialed the number on it.

The phone was answered after only one ring.

The female voice from the other end was crisp and clear, showing no sign of drowsiness or impatience.

"Hello, this is Salia Sharma. May I ask who this is?"

"Miss Salia, it's me, Leon."

Li Ang raised an eyebrow and said:

"I'm sorry to bother you so early. I have some urgent things to take care of, and I was wondering if you're available now?"

"Oh! Mr. Li, sir!"

Salia's voice immediately became excited, and she said without hesitation:

"Convenient! Of course, convenient! I'm always ready to serve you whenever you need me, Mr. Li!"

Li Ang was also taken aback upon hearing this, and his evaluation of Salia secretly rose a few points.

"Mr. Li, would you like to come over now?"

"Yes, I'll be there in about half an hour."

"Okay, I'll be waiting for you at the store. Please be careful on your way."

Li Ang hung up the phone without further delay.

When he got home, he stuffed all the gold beans into a canvas.

After leaving the house, thinking about the tens of thousands of US dollars he was about to receive, Li Ang got a little carried away and couldn't resist indulging in a little luxury. He hailed a taxi on the street and gave them the address of Saizeriya Gold Shop.

The car drove through the gradually awakening streets of New York.

Just as Li Ang had predicted, Americans are lazy and don't love to work like the people of East Asia.

Along the way, apart from convenience stores that stayed open all night and a few early-morning coffee shops, the lights were on.

Most of the street-side shops had their doors and windows closed, with roller shutters drawn.