California, a military prison.
Click, click, click.
The rhythmic sound of high heels echoed on the concrete floor, carrying far in the empty space.
Finally, the heels stopped in front of a luxurious prison cell door.
"Bartholow, you have a visitor."
The cell door opened, and in walked a middle-aged woman, probably in her forties or fifties. She looked sharp, capable, and carried an air of authority.
Bartholow's face lit up with shock when she saw her.
"Chairman Genevieve, what are you doing here?"
"When you get into trouble, of course I have to show up."
Genevieve wore a faint, approachable smile.
But Bartholow knew just how terrifying Genevieve could be behind that expression.
"Tell , how did this happen? Do you know how furious I was when I heard about this in San Francisco?"
Under Genevieve's commanding presence, the usually assertive Bartholow shrank like a quail, stamring nervously.
---
"Chairman Genevieve, here's what happened! I was following your orders to keep an eye on the Layton couple's canyon project, but not long after, there was an accident…"
Bartholow quickly recounted the events. When she finished, Genevieve's face darkened, her expression turning grim.
"I didn't expect it to turn out like this!"
"Chairman Genevieve, can you get out of here?"
Bartholow looked at Genevieve with hopeful eyes, desperate to hear what she wanted. But reality dealt her a harsh blow.
"You're not getting out anyti soon. Frank Hamr has evidence against you, and he's already submitted it to the Pentagon. Just stay put in this prison for a few months. Once the heat dies down, I'll find a way to get you out."
Bartholow was disappointed but could accept the outco. At least her life was safe.
"I understand, Chairman Genevieve. I'll keep my mouth shut."
Genevieve nodded, satisfied.
"Then use this ti to reflect and lay low."
With that, Genevieve turned and left the cell.
Click, click, click. As she walked away from Bartholow's cell, her expression darkened again.
"Bartholow's outlived her usefulness. Let her end things… gracefully."
Her aide responded imdiately.
"Understood!"
Then, Genevieve muttered to herself.
"Sorry, Bartholow. The Genesis Project can't afford any slip-ups. This is the only way."
That night, Bartholow was struggling to fall asleep in her cell. At her age, sleep was always elusive, often taking a long ti to co.
The cell door opened silently, and a figure slipped inside.
Sensing sothing, Bartholow opened her eyes—just as a cloth was wrapped tightly around her neck.
She struggled desperately, but as a woman in her fifties, she was no match for her assailant.
Soon, her struggles weakened, and she stopped breathing altogether.
The figure removed the cloth, hung it on the cell door, and slipped Bartholow's head through it.
After staging the scene, they locked the cell door and vanished from the military prison.
The next day, Bartholow's body was discovered by a guard. Despite clear strangulation marks, the coroner ruled her death a suicide.
Roy didn't hear the news until a few days later.
"Damn it! I underestimated Amatech's guts. They had the nerve to pull this off right before a military tribunal!"
In the manager's office at the Dolphin Hotel, Gerald slamd his fist on the desk.
If Bartholow had made it to the tribunal, they could've dug up more dirt on Amatech. But now, she'd died in a military prison.
A suicide?
It was like rubbing the Pentagon's face in the dirt!
Sitting across from Gerald, Roy wasn't all that surprised. Maybe because, coming from the future, he'd heard too many jokes about people "committing suicide" with ten bullet wounds in their back.
"Is the Pentagon just gonna let this slide?"
"No way! Even the most patient generals at the Pentagon won't stand for this. I've got inside info: the White House is about to slap Amatech with a fine close to ten billion dollars. This'll peel a layer off them. Mr. Black, if you're interested, you could short Amatech's stock. The news won't break until the day after tomorrow!"
Roy's eyes lit up. Gerald was a solid guy, sharing such valuable intel.
A fine that massive would tank Amatech's stock price, making shorting it a sure bet.
But Gerald's move was classic Aricana. How else did all those stock market wizards on Capitol Hill get so rich?
Inside information, that's how.
"Mr. Olin, thanks for the tip."
Roy didn't have experience shorting stocks himself, and none of the won around him did either. Fortunately, he'd recently recruited Katherine.
Katherine had years of experience as a top corporate executive. Even if she didn't know the stock market, she'd likely know reliable professionals who could handle the short for Roy.
"Too bad we couldn't take Amatech down for good. Once they recover, they'll cause more trouble."
Gerald sighed.
"What, a ten-billion-dollar fine isn't enough to cripple them?"
Roy looked at Gerald curiously.
"It's not that simple! If I know Amatech is facing a massive fine, don't you think their iron lady, Genevieve Aristide, does too? All she needs to do is take the company's liquid assets, add so leverage, and short her own company. When the stock plumts, she can buy it back at a lower price, weather the storm, and maybe even turn a profit!"
Roy's face lit up with realization.
No wonder finance was so lucrative with insider info—it was hard to lose.
As for stock market oversight? That was a joke. Exchanges could openly roll back trades or "pull the plug" if they wanted. Fairness was just a punchline.
The only winner in a casino is the house.
"Mr. Olin, if Amatech wants to stir up more trouble, let them. I'd like to see how many of their execs are willing to 'commit suicide.'"
This incident was a blatant warning. No one at the top was stupid. Even if Bartholow's autopsy said "suicide," no one would buy it.
The logic was simple: execs would think twice before making moves, lest they end up "suicided" like Bartholow.
Gerald nodded.
"You've got a point. Even if Genevieve Aristide wants revenge, I doubt anyone would be crazy enough to go along with her."
"I'm not even sure she'll hold onto her chairman position after this."
Roy and Gerald exchanged a knowing smile, no longer taking Amatech seriously.
"By the way, Mr. Olin, I'm heading back to Texas tomorrow."
"Leaving so soon? Why not stick around a bit longer?"
With Roy in L.A., Gerald felt at ease. No matter what ca up, Roy could handle it.
"Nah, folks back ho are nagging to return, and school's starting soon. Gotta prep so stuff."
Truth was, Lilith was the one pushing Roy to co back. She was desperate to get a new body.
With school starting in a week, Roy needed to sort out the body issue during the sumr break. Once classes began, it'd be a long wait.
Gerald chuckled.
"Ha! Every ti we talk, I forget you're still a student."
"Mr. Olin, say goodbye to Saltana for ."
"Why not tell Rivera yourself?"
Roy shrugged helplessly.
"Saltana's been avoiding lately. Won't even pick up my calls."
Roy's stamina was just too much for her. On her own, Saltana couldn't keep up, and with no teammates in L.A. to share the load, she needed a full day to recover after each "battle."
All that downti burned through her vacation days.
So, Saltana went into hiding to avoid another "defeat CG" from Roy.
Gerald gave Roy a thumbs-up. That kind of physical prowess was every guy's dream.
"I'll pass it along."
After wrapping up with Gerald, Roy left the office and called Katherine, explaining his plan to short Amatech.
At first, Katherine was skeptical. Amatech was a global giant with stable stock prices. Shorting it would require massive capital.
Unless a black swan event hit, no one would bother.
But a black swan was indeed coming.
When Roy shared his intel, Katherine got it imdiately and said she'd team up with Penny to handle the short.
Katherine hadn't climbed the corporate ladder on looks but on skill and sharp instincts.
Honestly, her face was average at best, even in her youth. She'd risen purely on talent.
Roy was pleased with her decision to bring Penny on board.
With work sorted, Roy tracked down lanie.
"Roy, you're heading back to Texas tomorrow?"
lanie's face was full of disappointnt. She'd been so happy spending ti with Roy these past few days and hated to see him go.
They'd officially beco a couple, though the conservative lanie hadn't let Roy cross the final line yet.
But Roy was confident he'd win her over fully by the end of the year.
lanie was growing less resistant to physical closeness. At first, even a kiss made her blush, but now she was fine with hugs, kisses, and light touching.
And that progress was in just a few days!
Hitting a ho run was only a matter of ti.
"Why the long face? Don't forget, we'll see each other again in a week at the latest."
lanie brightened up.
"You're right! I almost forgot what day it is!"
They say love makes won silly, and lanie was showing signs of it, losing her scholarly edge.
"Just wait for in L.A. I'll be back for you in September."
"Mm!"
lanie rested her head on Roy's solid chest, greedily breathing in his scent.
She wouldn't get to sll it for the next week, so she had to get her fill now.
Her puppy-like sniffing made Roy laugh.
"If you like my scent that much, I can take off my shirt for you to sll."
lanie instantly pulled back, blushing.
She knew exactly what "taking off his shirt" implied. She wasn't ready for that yet and needed more ti to prepare ntally.
"Roy, when you get back, don't forget to reply to my MSN ssages!"
"I won't."
The next day, Roy stood in the L.A. suburbs, preparing to return to Falls Town. This ti, he'd try his new ability: psychic teleportation, aiming for Sawyer Manor.
Over the past few days in L.A., Roy had practiced teleportation. Short-range, line-of-sight jumps were easy, and he'd even tested mid-range teleports across half the city with minimal error.
Now, it was ti to try a long-distance, cross-state teleport.
Long-distance teleportation was definitely trickier, but mastering it would be a ga-changer. It'd save him from exhausting long trips and free up a ton of ti.
"Focus. Picture Sawyer Manor's location…"
Line-of-sight teleportation was simple—just see the spot and go.
But out-of-sight teleportation required imagining the destination or having spatial coordinates.
The farther the distance, the more critical coordinates were, since imagination alone wasn't always precise.
Unfortunately, Roy wasn't a wizard and hadn't systematically studied how to establish coordinates. He had to rely on ntal imagery.
This ant he could only teleport to places he'd been. Without a ntal image, he'd have no idea where he'd end up.
"Psychic teleport!"
A red glow flashed around Roy's body, and he vanished.
The next second, he appeared on a sowhat familiar highway, nearly getting hit by a big rig that barely braked in ti.
"Are you trying to die? Why'd you pop up in the middle of the road?!"
Truck drivers weren't known for their patience, especially when Roy almost caused a crash.
What the driver didn't know was that he was the one who'd have been in trouble. With Roy's current physical condition, a collision would likely wreck the truck, not him.
Still, it was Roy's mistake, so he apologized.
"Sorry, I got a bit dizzy."
The driver grumbled and drove off, leaving Roy to scan his surroundings.
"This looks about ten miles from Falls Town. Didn't expect the error to be that big for a long-distance jump."
Still, it saved him a thousand-mile trip. A ten-mile error was acceptable.
"Should've hitched a ride with that truck. Guess I'll have to call Claudia to pick up."
Still lanie.
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