Home / Urban / Dumped on my anniversary, I activated the billionaire system / chapter 19

chapter 19

Author: Bolu Boski

2026-07-27 02:16:41

The headlights of the Apex GT cut through the darkness of Oakwood Cemetery, illuminating rows of granite headstones in pale, ghostly white. Julian killed the engine at the edge of the access road and stepped out into the night.

The air smelled like wet earth and cut grass, and the only sound was the distant hum of the interstate and the soft rustle of wind through the oak trees.

He walked three hundred yards to the east section, his boots crunching on the gravel path. He didn't need a map.

Continue to read this book for free

Scan the code to download the app

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

chapter 112
Julian woke at five in the morning to the sound of rain on the window. The brick wall outside was slick and dark, the sky a flat, oppressive gray. He lay still for a moment, listening to the drip of the faucet, the creak of the building, the distant wail of a siren. No overlay. No diagnostics. No gold pulse in the corner of his vision. Just the sound of a city waking up and a man breathing in a room that smelled like mildew and old blood. He sat up. His body ached. His temples throbbed. The cracked molar sent a sharp lance of pain through his jaw every time he clenched his teeth. He walked to the sink, splashed water on his face, and looked in the mirror. The man staring back was hollow-eyed, unshaven, and running on four hours of sleep and a gas station coffee. He looked like what he was. A paramedic from Columbus, Ohio. A house husband. A nobody. He dressed. Black pants. A white shirt, buttoned to the collar. No tie. No jacket. No needle kit. He left the transmitter a
chapter 111
Julian woke at five in the morning to the sound of rain on the window. The brick wall outside was slick and dark, the sky a flat, oppressive gray. He lay still for a moment, listening to the drip of the faucet, the creak of the building, the distant wail of a siren. No overlay. No diagnostics. No gold pulse in the corner of his vision. Just the sound of a city waking up and a man breathing in a room that smelled like mildew and old blood. He sat up. His body ached. His temples throbbed. The cracked molar sent a sharp lance of pain through his jaw every time he clenched his teeth. He walked to the sink, splashed water on his face, and looked in the mirror. The man staring back was hollow-eyed, unshaven, and running on four hours of sleep and a gas station coffee. He looked like what he was. A paramedic from Columbus, Ohio. A house husband. A nobody. He dressed. Black pants. A white shirt, buttoned to the collar. No tie. No jacket. No needle kit. He left the transmitter a
chapter 110
Julian woke at five in the morning to the sound of rain on the window. The brick wall outside was slick and dark, the sky a flat, oppressive gray. He lay still for a moment, listening to the drip of the faucet, the creak of the building, the distant wail of a siren. No overlay. No diagnostics. No gold pulse in the corner of his vision. Just the sound of a city waking up and a man breathing in a room that smelled like mildew and old blood. He sat up. His body ached. His temples throbbed. The cracked molar sent a sharp lance of pain through his jaw every time he clenched his teeth. He walked to the sink, splashed water on his face, and looked in the mirror. The man staring back was hollow-eyed, unshaven, and running on four hours of sleep and a gas station coffee. He looked like what he was. A paramedic from Columbus, Ohio. A house husband. A nobody. He dressed. Black pants. A white shirt, buttoned to the collar. No tie. No jacket. No needle kit. He left the transmitter a
chapter 109
Julian woke at five in the morning to the sound of rain on the window. The brick wall outside was slick and dark, the sky a flat, oppressive gray. He lay still for a moment, listening to the drip of the faucet, the creak of the building, the distant wail of a siren. No overlay. No diagnostics. No gold pulse in the corner of his vision. Just the sound of a city waking up and a man breathing in a room that smelled like mildew and old blood. He sat up. His body ached. His temples throbbed. The cracked molar sent a sharp lance of pain through his jaw every time he clenched his teeth. He walked to the sink, splashed water on his face, and looked in the mirror. The man staring back was hollow-eyed, unshaven, and running on four hours of sleep and a gas station coffee. He looked like what he was. A paramedic from Columbus, Ohio. A house husband. A nobody. He dressed. Black pants. A white shirt, buttoned to the collar. No tie. No jacket. No needle kit. He left the transmitter a
chapter 108
Julian woke at five in the morning to the sound of rain on the window. The brick wall outside was slick and dark, the sky a flat, oppressive gray. He lay still for a moment, listening to the drip of the faucet, the creak of the building, the distant wail of a siren. No overlay. No diagnostics. No gold pulse in the corner of his vision. Just the sound of a city waking up and a man breathing in a room that smelled like mildew and old blood. He sat up. His body ached. His temples throbbed. The cracked molar sent a sharp lance of pain through his jaw every time he clenched his teeth. He walked to the sink, splashed water on his face, and looked in the mirror. The man staring back was hollow-eyed, unshaven, and running on four hours of sleep and a gas station coffee. He looked like what he was. A paramedic from Columbus, Ohio. A house husband. A nobody. He dressed. Black pants. A white shirt, buttoned to the collar. No tie. No jacket. No needle kit. He left the transmitter a
chapter 107
Julian woke at five in the morning to the sound of rain on the window. The brick wall outside was slick and dark, the sky a flat, oppressive gray. He lay still for a moment, listening to the drip of the faucet, the creak of the building, the distant wail of a siren. No overlay. No diagnostics. No gold pulse in the corner of his vision. Just the sound of a city waking up and a man breathing in a room that smelled like mildew and old blood. He sat up. His body ached. His temples throbbed. The cracked molar sent a sharp lance of pain through his jaw every time he clenched his teeth. He walked to the sink, splashed water on his face, and looked in the mirror. The man staring back was hollow-eyed, unshaven, and running on four hours of sleep and a gas station coffee. He looked like what he was. A paramedic from Columbus, Ohio. A house husband. A nobody. He dressed. Black pants. A white shirt, buttoned to the collar. No tie. No jacket. No needle kit. He left the transmitter a

You may also like

Unexpected Trillionaire.

I Made $900 Trillion In 24 Hours

Revenge Of The Rejected Son-in-law

Marcus Hamilton Trillionaire In Disguise

The Young Trillionaire In Shadow

The Warlord They Called a Grunt

The Return Of The Firefighter As A Trillionaire

My Wife Believed in Me One Day Too Late

Latest Chapter

chapter 112

chapter 111

chapter 110

chapter 109

chapter 108

chapter 107