Chapter 7

A cold, mechanical chime echoed in his mind.

[The intelligence only indicated that your mother, Laura, would have her left calf grazed by a yellow modified motorcycle. The specific location of the incident was not a fixed variable.]

Chris was speechless.

'Seriously? So this so-called "intelligence" is dynamic? The location can change, but the event is inevitable?'

He almost laughed out of sheer exasperation.

This system… was it brilliantly intelligent, or just a massive pain?

Gently helping his shaken mother to her feet, he asked urgently, "Mom, are you okay? How's your ankle?"

Laura patted her chest, her heart still racing. "Oh, sweetheart, that scared me half to death! I think I just twisted my ankle a little when you pulled me. It's fine, really."

She looked at him, completely bewildered. "Chris, what in the world was that? That blond kid was driving like a maniac!"

Before Chris could even begin to formulate an explanation, Laura suddenly snapped her fingers as if she'd had a brilliant epiphany.

"Oh! Chris, I get it now!"

He blinked. "Mom… what exactly do you get?"

She gripped his hand tightly, her eyes wide with a mix of lingering fear and sudden, superstitious excitement. "You won the lottery today, right? Twenty thousand dollars?"

"Yeah…" Chris nodded, utterly confused.

"Exactly!" Laura's voice was now filled with absolute conviction. "You're on a hot streak! But you know what they say—easy come, easy go. Good luck and bad luck are two sides of the same coin. Your win was too big today, so I took a little bit of the bad luck for you! I just absorbed your misfortune! Consider the disaster avoided!"

Chris was speechless. He stared at her in disbelief.

What kind of… twisted logic was this?

But Laura only grew more certain. "Just think about it! That kid could have hit me full-on. Instead, I just twisted my ankle. This little bit of bad luck is just the universe balancing the scales—your huge win brought a little setback to even things out. See? It makes perfect sense!"

The corners of Chris's mouth twitched. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but a wave of warmth washed over him.

His mother… she was willing to rationalize even a near-accident as taking on bad luck for his sake.

Then, a thought struck him. Her logic—as flawed as it was—could actually work in his favor.

Putting on a grave expression, he nodded seriously. "Mom, you're absolutely right. That means you're in a cycle of minor misfortune right now. For your safety, you really shouldn't go out for a little while."

"Really?" Laura asked, half-convinced but still hesitant.

"Of course! You said it yourself—I'm on a lucky streak, and you absorbed the backlash. To be safe, you need to just rest at home for the next few days. Don't go out until this wave of bad luck passes."

His solemn tone made her nervous. Remembering the screeching tires and the close call, a fresh shiver of fear ran through her.

"Alright, alright! I'll listen to you. I'll stay put at home for a few days. I won't set a foot outside until this bad luck is gone!"

A wave of relief washed over Chris.

Perfect.

If he could keep his mother safely indoors until the redevelopment plan for Westridge Terrace was officially announced, she'd never have to run herself ragged at a roadside stand again.

He helped her into a cab, and they headed home.

…

The next day, a news bombshell exploded across the entire city.

The large-scale amusement park project originally planned for the south side of the city had been abruptly halted after the discovery of a cluster of nationally protected rare flora and fauna during site surveys.

Following emergency consultations among the city government, planning bureau, and investors—considering transportation, foot traffic, land size, and development potential—the new site was announced.

Astonishingly, it had been relocated to the west side of the city… right over Westridge Terrace and its surroundings!

Because of the project's urgency, demolition was to begin immediately.

The news struck Kenton City like a thunderclap.

Overnight, Westridge Terrace's property values—or more accurately, its compensation payouts—became the hottest topic in the city.

As the undisputed owner of the most properties in Westridge Terrace, Chris didn't hesitate for a second. The moment he received the official notice from the city's redevelopment office, he signed the relocation agreement.

The compensation package was so generous it left people reeling.

When the massive figure landed in his bank account, the constant buzz of notification alerts nearly shook his phone apart.

Almost 900,000 dollars!

After paying back the 300,000 dollars he owed Emma and settling another 50,000 dollars borrowed from relatives and friends, Chris was still left with a pure profit of more than 500,000 dollars.

When Emma saw his name flash on her caller ID and then checked her bank account, she was absolutely floored.

He had paid her back. In full.

It felt surreal, like something out of a dream.

"Chris, is this… for real?" Her voice trembled.

"Of course it's real. Emma, thank you for believing in me." His voice carried a smile.

She pinched herself. Ouch.

It was real.

After hanging up, she just stared at her banking app, where her own hefty demolition compensation had also just landed. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

She hadn't bought nearly as many units as Chris, but she’d focused on the larger apartments in the most desirable locations. That single decision had just netted her several hundred thousand dollars in profit.

The thrill was even more intense than hitting a scratch-off.

And it had happened so fast—in a matter of days!

Even her father, who almost never initiated calls, phoned her, his voice filled with stunned admiration and a newfound, almost deferential curiosity.

"Emma, I heard… Westridge Terrace's being demolished?"

"Yes," Emma answered, still dazed.

"Did you… know about this ahead of time? Some inside information, maybe? Your eye for opportunity is remarkable!"

She brushed him off with a few vague answers, though her mind was reeling.

Inside information? She hadn't had any. She had simply… chosen to trust Chris.

Meanwhile, the relatives and friends who had loaned Chris money were left utterly speechless when the news broke.

Then came the regret—a deep, gut-wrenching bitterness.

"Damn it! Chris told me to buy a couple of units back then, but I thought he'd lost his mind!"

"Me too! If I'd just listened and bought one or two, I'd be hundreds of thousands richer right now!"

"Who could've seen this coming? That whole dilapidated complex, gone just like that—and with compensation this huge!"

Envy, jealousy, and raw remorse tore through them.

At the same time, Katie heard the news from her mother, Jude Lawson.

She froze.

Her head buzzed as if a hornet's nest had been kicked over inside her skull, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.

"Useless? Parasite?"

The very insults she had spat at him now echoed in her ears, each one feeling like a stinging slap across her own face.

How… how could her ex-husband have possibly… suddenly come into so much money?

Katie's vision swam, and her knees went weak beneath her.