Home / Urban / Dumped on my anniversary, I activated the billionaire system / chapter 36

chapter 36

Author: Bolu Boski

2026-07-27 02:36:47

The first bullet hit the SUV's rear windshield at seventy miles per hour, punching through the glass with a sharp, crystalline *CRACK* that showered the backseat in a spray of safety glass. Evelyn screamed and ducked, her hands flying over her head, while Cole wrenched the steering wheel hard to the left.

The SUV fishtailed across the two-lane mountain road, tires shrieking against the wet asphalt, and Julian grabbed the door handle to keep from being thrown against the window.

"Contact rear!"

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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

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