The Sting of Being Broke
“A bunch of us guys are hitting the basketball court—what're you gonna do there? Why don't you go shopping with Mom, grab some toys and new clothes? I'll be back soon, and I'll play with you properly then!” Xiao Yi patted Helen's head and turned her down.
Basketball was just a bullshit excuse he'd thrown out to brush people off. Xiao Yi had no intention of actually playing. Right now, all he wanted was to grab the cash and bullets as fast as possible and get back to the apocalyptic world.
Based on the time difference between the two worlds from last time, it was probably pushing toward dawn over there by now. He had to return to the apocalyptic world before Stephanie Seymour woke up, ready to kick off the next phase of his plan.
Helen's eyes lit up with anticipation at the promise of playtime when he got back. She nodded eagerly, her big eyes sparkling as she said obediently and full of excitement, “Okay, brother! Hurry back—I’ll wait for you!”
Xiao Yi nodded in satisfaction and strode off.
Stephanie Seymour watched as her usually spoiled, headstrong daughter played along so nicely today. It struck her as odd.
But she didn't dwell on it. She had a date with her good friend Cindy Crawford today—she needed to get moving.
As two of the top supermodels from the earliest waves, Stephanie and Cindy were both close confidantes who admired each other deeply and fierce rivals always one-upping one another. Over the years, they'd been enemies and friends in equal measure, which only made their bond the strongest.
Not long after Xiao Yi left, Stephanie Seymour got herself dolled up and headed out the door.
……
Stepping out of the villa, Xiao Yi made a beeline for the garage and found Sean's black Ford. He rapped on the window glass.
Sean hopped out of the car at once, all deference, bowing and scraping as he handed over an envelope stuffed with U.S. dollars. Then he popped the trunk and gestured inside. “Young master, the bullets are all right here in the trunk, just like you asked—two hundred rounds total, 5.56 caliber, perfect for the M16 rifle. Take a look, sir.”
“Mm.” Xiao Yi nodded, his face darkening as he peered into the trunk.
The bullets were packed in army-green wooden crates. Sean cracked one open to reveal straw padding beneath a gleaming pile of ammo.
Two hundred rounds—that ought to be more than enough to wipe out every last zombie in the villa.
“Take the bullets out of the car and set them aside. If I remember right, your shift's over. Head home—it's the weekend. Spend some quality time with your wife and kid.”
Xiao Yi clapped Sean on the shoulder with a smile. “You've earned it. A man's got to put family first—wife and kids above all.”
“Thank you, young master! Thank you!”
For some reason, Sean felt a surge of gratitude, nodding and bowing furiously with genuine emotion.
Ever since that car accident turned Andy into... this, he'd seemed like a whole different person. There was something chillingly steady and unfathomable about him now.
It made Sean wary of the new Andy, always on edge around him.
And with the evidence of his affair with Shirley in Andy's hands, Sean lived in constant fear that the kid might turn on him.
Under that pressure, Sean was perpetually wired whenever he was near Xiao Yi.
So when Xiao Yi suddenly cracked a smile and said something so thoughtful, it washed over Sean like sweet relief.
“Young master, this crate's pretty heavy—want me to carry it back for you...?” Sean fawned, all eagerness to please.
“No need. Go handle your business.” Xiao Yi took the crate effortlessly. It had been a strain for Sean to lift, but in Xiao Yi's grip, it felt weightless.
“Right away, young master! I'll be off then.” Sean gawked at Xiao Yi hoisting the crate one-handed, then slunk back to his car and peeled out.
“System, store the bullets in the Space Magic Cube.” With a casual wave, Xiao Yi made the wooden crate and bullets vanish from his hand.
Items stored successfully.
“System, how many dollars to bring 200 rounds back to the apocalyptic world?” Xiao Yi asked again.
Calculating...
Transporting 200 rounds to the apocalyptic world requires $46,000 USD.
Still short by more than ten grand.
Xiao Yi frowned slightly. With the thirty-odd thousand he had now, he'd only be able to transport about 120 or 130 rounds.
That wasn't a small number.
But the gnawing frustration of being cash-strapped made his blood boil.
He had billions in wealth right in front of him—Pete Brandt's billions—and it meant nothing to him. He couldn't touch a dime. It grated on him hard.
“Pete Brandt...”
Xiao Yi eyed the luxury Cadillac SUV parked nearby, a cold glint flashing in his gaze. Then he commanded the system: “System, take me back to the apocalyptic world!”
“Also, bring over every bullet I can afford to transport!”
Affirmative, host. Teleporting you now.
With your current funds, the system can transport 128 rounds. Proceed with teleport?
“Teleport!”
Affirmative. Teleporting to the apocalyptic world now...
As the system's voice chimed, Xiao Yi's vision went black. The world spun wildly, and then he vanished entirely from the modern world.