A WEEK later and August was already healed. The medicine worked its magic, fastening his recovery. 

He suddenly felt relieved as his body became lighter, and the swelling in his knee receded. Although the pain was still there, it was more tolerable than the last time.

What the nurse told him before wasn’t a joke. The hospital, the famous Remington Medical Hospital owned by the multi-billionaire Charles Remington, hadn't demanded a single dime for his stay in the VIP room.

Someone had taken care of his medical bills, an act of kindness he should be grateful for. Yet, Samantha's betrayal had left him jaded, eroding his trust not just in her, but in the world as a whole.

"Is there truly no ulterior motive?"  he asked, slightly suspicious of the nurse who handed him a document to sign. "Can I truly walk away unscathed?"

The nurse retorted with a hint of sarcasm, shaking her head. "If we had malicious intentions, would we bother curing you?"

August's mouth opened slightly, his senses returning to him upon hearing the nurse's response. He scrawled his signature afterward, although the doubt still lingered within him. 

“It’s fine. We know this feels new to you,” the nurse said, taking the document from his hand. “You’re discharged. Just make sure to rest adequately, even though you’re already fine. Take care of that knee.”

August nodded, his gaze fixed on the nurse's retreating figure. "Thank you—" 

But he stopped speaking when he realized what the nurse said earlier.

“What do you mean that you know this feels new to me?” he questioned, attempting to pursue the woman, only to be impeded by his aching knee. 

He couldn't walk properly and relied on crutches for support. 

"Nevermind," he added, choosing to forget the events for today and make his way home. 

AS August stepped out of the hospital, he knew his wounded state wouldn't allow him to walk far. Seeking a taxi for his journey home, he was taken aback when a white Rolls Royce Cullinan pulled up before him.

Assuming the car wasn't there for him, he moved aside to continue his search for a taxi. But to his surprise, the car followed his every step.

"What kind of sick joke is this?" he exclaimed, his frustration seeping into his words. 

August frowned as the car window opened but not enough to see who was the man in the backseat. All he could discern was the elegance of the vehicle, hinting at the wealth of its occupant.

"Hey, kid," the man inside the car addressed him. "It looks like you couldn't make your way home in your current condition. Allow us to take you there," he offered kindly.

"No, thank you," August responded, his refusal unwavering. "I don't trust people these days."

Scammers preyed on vulnerable individuals like him. Although he wasn't up-to-date with the latest news on social media, he was far from naive when it came to such matters.

The man chuckled, tossing an identification card in his direction. "Will this be enough to earn your trust, my child?"

August's eyes widened as he beheld the identification card in his hands. He blinked, hoping the name written on it would change, but it remained unaltered.

"C-Charles Remington?" August stammered, his disbelief palpable. 

The billionaire he had only seen on television was standing before him, a surreal encounter that defied his wildest imagination.

The Remington family was the top one highest-ranking family in town, lead by Charles Remington, one of the best CEOs in the country. Their company, Remington Corporation, had amassed a fortune surpassing a hundred billion dollars in less than a year. 

Charles, despite his age, knows how to play the game. His businesses were scattered everywhere, with different industries, so if one company went bankrupt, there were other businesses to back him up.

‘In comparison to the Remington Corporation, Sandoval Corporation is nothing but a speck,’ August mused silently. 

Sandoval Corporation, though they have one of the largest businesses in the video game industry, wasn’t even in the top ten, but in the top fifty. Their wealth isn’t even enough to compete with the families in the top ten as the competition was fierce.

However, if he were to compare the Sandoval family to himself—a man without a proper family—the difference was big. 

A commoner like him stood no chance against any rich families, even those outside the coveted top one hundred family rankings.

The car window descended completely, and the old man beckoned August to join him inside. "Hop in. I have no ill intentions. I just wanted to help," Charles called out.

August nodded as he hopped inside the car. Though they exchanged no words, August could sense the aura of authority emanating from Charles.

Even though they didn’t talk with each other, he could feel his authority. His very presence exuded dominance, power, and opulence—qualities August himself lacked.

Minutes later, the car stopped in front of his rented house. August didn’t know what to say as he was intimidated by Charles’ presence. 

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined a wealthy man would extend such kindness to him. He had grown accustomed to mockery and degradation from others.

"T-Thank you for your generosity, sir," August stuttered, preparing to exit the vehicle.

However, his movement halted as Charles gently grasped his wrist.

"Until we meet again," Charles uttered, his words lingering in the air before he released his hold.

August mustered an awkward smile as he softly closed the car door. It didn't take long for the driver to whisk Charles away from his neighborhood, leaving August to contemplate about his encounter with Charles.

Upon entering his shabby and disheveled house, August wasted no time opening his email. A continuous curse escaped his lips as he discovered that the management had already deducted his salary.

Grimacing, August slumped onto the floor. Without his week's pay, he wondered how he would cover his expenses. He couldn't bring himself to complain—it was his own fault for neglecting to inform the company of his hospitalization.

The medication given by the nurse drained what little energy he had left, making him weak to even glance at his phone at that time.

Thoughts raced through his mind as he debated whether to ask the management for an advance payment or consider selling one of his kidneys. 

He was in this state of hopelessness when his phone buzzed.

"Fuck," escaped his lips as he stared at his phone, bewildered by the unexpected deposit made into his bank account.

The amount was staggering, double—no, triple his regular salary.

"How did this happen?"

MEANWHILE, in his office, Charles Remington wasted no time getting down to business.

"Have you completed my requests, Maxine?" he inquired upon entering.

Maxine Coleman, the nurse who had aided August during his stay in the hospital, was also Charles’ secretary and right-hand woman.

"Yes, sir. He has already been discharged," Maxine answered, nodding. "The Sandoval family has been causing trouble lately. They have overstepped their bounds, even though they aren't among the top ten in the ranking.”

Charles didn’t speak. He didn’t like what the Sandoval Family’s heir was doing to his son, too. Yet he couldn’t interfere, not for now.

“They've meddled with the young master's life..." Maxine added, almost whispering. 

She was so loyal to the Remington Corporation that she also felt hurt every time some people were looking down at August, her young master.

Charles raised his head to gaze at her, prompting her to continue. 

"Why don't we reveal the truth to him?" asked Maxine, slightly hesitant about her suggestion.

"Based on what you've observed, do you believe he is mentally stable enough to handle the truth?" Charles asked back.

Maxine parted her lips, immediately comprehending Charles' intent. August's mental state was fragile.

"You make a valid point, master."

“I’ll tell him everything at the right time,” Charles declared, intertwining his hands. “But before that, he needs to be strong.”