Chapter 1

In February in Chicago, the weather was still cold.

Although it was 1943, and the war in Europe and Asia was raging fiercely,

as a city far from the front lines and also the most important industrial city in the United States, Chicago still presented a scene of prosperity and peace.

The bustling streets during the day, the shops filled with a variety of goods, the gentlemen and ladies passing by, the liveliness was no less than that of the 21st century.

If it weren't for the occasional war posters seen on the streets, it would be hard to believe that a war of unprecedented scale and casualties was taking place on the other side of the world.

However, this had nothing to do with Josie.

At that moment, he was wrapped in a coat that did not fit his body, crossing the busy street, and entering a store by the roadside.

"Take a look at what you need!" The elderly shopkeeper, who was sorting through an old radio, said without looking up as the doorbell jingled.

This was a general store, where you could find everything from small items like scissors and cutlery to larger items like radios and vinyl records, all neatly arranged in their respective places.

However, Josie was not there to buy anything, but to sell something.

"I heard you buy gold!" Josie walked straight to the counter and asked the elderly shopkeeper, who was fiddling with an old radio.

Hearing this, the old shopkeeper finally raised his head slightly, glanced at him, and saw a teenager of about fifteen or sixteen, which was a bit unexpected, but he still nodded.

Josie did not hesitate, took out a bag from his coat, placed it on the counter, and opened it to reveal the gold jewelry inside.

"Huh? It looks a bit like Native American craftsmanship, but not quite. Where did you get it?" The old shopkeeper said, somewhat surprised, upon seeing the gold jewelry in the bag.

"What? Does Native American craftsmanship make it more valuable?" Josie did not answer but asked in return.

"Not really, after all, it doesn't really appeal to the general public." The old shopkeeper shrugged. The general public here undoubtedly referred to white people, and the rough Native American craftsmanship would not attract the attention of those wealthy ladies, so the fate of this gold was to be melted down.

"How much can you offer?" Josie asked again, not caring about the craftsmanship, as he knew this was not actually Native American gold.

"Don't rush, kid! Wait a moment!" The old shopkeeper reassured him and then turned to search through some items.

Josie was not in a hurry either, as he had already done his research before coming. This was a well-known old general store in the neighborhood, which was also a pawn shop.

And what he was selling was just gold, not illegal items.

Well... if you followed the law enacted by Roosevelt ten years ago, private gold trading was indeed illegal, and this law would not be completely repealed until the Nixon era, more than twenty years later.

But in reality, since the start of World War II, the law had not been as strictly enforced.

Moreover, during the war, a large number of refugees flowed into the United States, and the government turned a blind eye to civilian gold transactions, so small-scale gold trading was quite common.

Of course, the safest way was to sell gold to the bank at the fixed price of $35 per ounce, which was about 28 grams.

But doing so would be a huge loss.

Because the market price of gold was already $50 per ounce.

The $15 difference was not a small amount.

After all, the purchasing power of the dollar in this era was extremely strong.

For example, in a city like Chicago, a typical restaurant meal with coffee, meat, and vegetables cost about 50 to 60 cents, and a large hamburger cost about 20 cents.

In other words, for an ordinary person, $15 was enough to eat out every day for more than a week.

The gold Josie brought this time was not a lot, but it was not a small amount either—ten ounces. This was a difference of $150, which was equivalent to two or three months' income for an ordinary person.

Don't be fooled by the fact that the average income in the United States in 1943 was over $1,000.

But what does "average" mean? Those who understand it know.

In reality, an ordinary person in the city earning $700 to $800 a year was considered high-income.

Why were young Americans eager to join the military during World War II?

Wasn't it because the military paid a high salary?

A private's base salary was $50 a month, and each rank up added $10 to $20, so by the time you reached sergeant, you could earn $100 a month, not including various allowances.

So $150 was definitely not a small amount.

Josie's gold was not a lot, so he was not willing to give up such a large difference to the U.S. bank and was willing to take a bit of a risk.

Fortunately, the old shopkeeper did not play any tricks and quickly returned with some tools, including a measuring cup, water, and a scale.

"These gold items are not very pure, only about 80%, so I can only offer $40 per ounce." The old shopkeeper concluded after using the tools to measure the gold's density.

"Deal!" Josie was not too surprised by the old shopkeeper's conclusion, as the purity of the gold was indeed not very high, given the primitive metallurgy of that world, let alone the gold of a barbarian tribe that couldn't even smelt steel.

So Josie decisively agreed to the price offered by the old shopkeeper.

"Great, a total of 9.8 ounces. I won't shortchange you, so let's make it 10 ounces. Here is $450, take it, kid!" Seeing Josie agree readily, the old shopkeeper did not dawdle, turned around, and took out a roll of dollars from the counter, took one out, and handed the rest to Josie.

Josie took the roll of dollars, untied the rubber band, and found nine $50 bills, exactly the right amount.

After all, the United States had not yet entered the credit card era, so large denominations of dollars were not uncommon, unlike in the 21st century, where $50 bills were hard to find.

"These $50, can you change them into smaller bills? Preferably $5, but $10 is also fine!" After counting the money and confirming it was genuine, Josie pushed back $50.

The old shopkeeper did not say much, just nodded and changed it into a roll of $5 bills.

After counting and confirming there were no issues, Josie tied the money back up and put it in his pocket, ready to leave.

"If you have more goods, you can still come to me. Old Hawk has a good reputation in this area!" The old shopkeeper's voice came as Josie was about to leave.

"Of course!" Josie was slightly taken aback by the old shopkeeper's words, nodded, and then left.