Chapter 46: Accident
The roar of the Ferrari 812 Competizione had become a familiar companion to Ethan McCain, but today, the engine's song felt different. It wasn't just a machine of speed anymore; it was a symbol of the tectonic shift in his life. As he navigated the dense commercial arteries of Shu City, heading toward the provincial hospital where his mother was being treated, Ethan felt the eyes of the world on him. To the pedestrians, he was just another wealthy heir in a car that cost more than their houses. They couldn't see the heavy weight of the ten-thousand-dollar stacks he had just dropped on Thomas's table, nor the cold fury still simmering in his veins after dealing with Quin.
For the past two days, Ethan had maintained the charade of a normal student, but that mask was slipping. His Mind, optimized to the peak of Level One, was constantly processing data—Elena's updates on Black Global Holdings, the stock market fluctuations, and the logistical movements of the private medical team he had hired. He was a student on paper, but a sovereign in reality.
The traffic in this district was a chaotic mess of delivery bikes, buses, and pedestrians. Ethan sat behind the wheel of his brand-new Ferrari, feeling the smooth power of the engine as he navigated the city streets. Even at low speeds, the car felt like a restless predator, eager to break free. He was careful, his enhanced reflexes making him hyper-aware of everything around him.
Suddenly, a shadow darted from the side.
Before he could react—even with his peak-level speed—a loud thud echoed through the cabin. The vibration traveled up through the steering wheel, a sickening sound of metal meeting plastic and bone.
An electric scooter had swerved directly into his lane, colliding with the side of the luxury vehicle.
Ethan's jaw tightened. He shifted the car into park and stepped out into the humid afternoon air. A woman in her thirties was picking herself up from the pavement, her face a mask of frantic movement. Beside her, a young girl, no more than six years old, stood trembling, her eyes wide with shock.
Ethan stepped out of the car and frowned. He didn't check the damage first; he looked at the child to ensure she wasn't bleeding. But before he could even ask if they were alright, the woman's face contorted with rage. She didn't look hurt; she looked like she had just found a winning lottery ticket and was determined to cash it in.
"How do you drive?!" she shrieked, pointing a finger at Ethan. Her voice was shrill, cutting through the ambient noise of the street. "Look at what you've done! You nearly kijled us! Just because you drive a fancy car doesn't mean you own the road!"
Ethan glanced at his car. A deep, jagged scratch marred the door—a repair that would easily cost tens of thousands. The pristine Grigio paint was gouged, a silver scar across the carbon-fiber bodywork.
"Ma'am, you were looking at your phone and swerved into my lane," Ethan said calmly. His voice was steady, a stark contrast to her hysterics. His Mind had already replayed the last three seconds: her eyes had been down, her thumb scrolling through a short-video app as she drifted across the yellow line.
"Liars! You rich people are all liars!" the woman yelled louder, attracting a crowd. People began to stop, circling the accident like sharks smelling blood in the water. "You hit us and now you want to blame a poor woman? Look at my scooter! You need to pay me five hundred dollars right now for medical fees and repairs, or I'm not letting you leave!"
She was playing the victim card perfectly. The crowd murmured, their eyes darting between Ethan's tailored black shirt and the woman's worn-out scooter. In their eyes, the man in the Ferrari was automatically the villain.
Ethan sighed, reaching for his phone to call the police. He wasn't going to be extorted. He had $9.8 quadrillion, but he vowed not to give this woman a single cent based on a lie. He had spent his morning dealing with family who tried to bleed him dry; he wasn't in the mood to be a target for a stranger's greed.
He also to punish her a little for her distorting the truth.