Regression To Invest And Become A Billionaire

Chapter 5: 2nd Goal Identified

Nathan Cole☠︎ 𓃵 stepped quietly into the hospital room, the faint creak of the door hinges carried across the sterile air like a whisper. His mother lay on the bed, her body fragile beneath the thin white sheets. She seemed half asleep, her breaths shallow, her eyelids fluttering with the effort of simply existing.

But then she stirred, hearing the sound. Slowly, her head turned, her tired eyes searching. When they landed on him, her face brightened with a fragile smile, the kind only a mother could give.

“Nathan. My boy.”

The words almost broke him.

His throat tightened as he stared at her, fighting back the burning pressure of tears. He wanted to rush forward and scoop her up in his arms, hold her tight, and never let go. But her body was far too weak. Even the smallest squeeze might hurt her. So instead, he walked carefully to her side, lowering himself into the chair by the bed. His hand trembled as he reached for hers. The skin of her hand was thin and cool, but it was still her hand. Alive. Real. Not cold. Not lifeless.

“Mom,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “M… mum.”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face. Pale. Worn. Yet still radiant with the warmth of love he remembered so clearly. Ten years of emptiness surged into this single moment. He had buried her once. He had mourned her once. And now here she was, smiling at him like she had never left.

It felt like a dream he was terrified of waking from.

Mrs. Cole tilted her head, her thin lips curving as she noticed his wet eyes. “Nathan, what’s wrong?” she asked softly. Even in her state, her voice carried gentle strength. She lifted her other hand with effort, brushing her fingertips against his cheek like she used to when he was a child. “Why are you looking at me like that? You’re acting as if you haven’t seen me in years.”

He froze. His heart screamed the truth, but his mouth stayed sealed.

Because I haven’t, Mom. Because I lost you once. Because in another life, this illness took you from me.

But how could he say that? She wouldn’t understand. She’d think her son had gone insane. And besides, what kind of child tells their mother she died in another timeline? No. That pain belonged only to him.

So Nathan leaned forward instead, his forehead brushing her shoulder. He breathed in the faint smell of hospital sheets and antiseptic and the faintest trace of her perfume that somehow lingered. Her arms, frail but still warm, came up around him and held him close.

“I’m fine,” he whispered into her gown. His voice cracked, betraying him, but he forced himself to keep speaking. “I’m just… glad to see you, Mom.”

She chuckled softly, her breath rattling in her chest. “I’m always here, baby. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Stop worrying so much.”

The words hit him like knives. Because he knew the truth. He knew this disease was a thief waiting in the dark.

His jaw tightened. He pulled back just enough to see her face. “The people here. They want you out, don’t they? Do they treat you badly, Mom?”

Her eyes softened with that patient strength only she could carry. She sighed and smiled faintly. “Anything here is still better than slowly dying. They give me the medicine I need. I’ll be alright, Nathan. I’ll be fine.”

But Nathan knew better.

A storm raged in his chest as memories spilled back. The past. The other life. He could see it clearly.

It had been just after his graduation, after he had secured his internship with Voss Financial Corp. That was when his mother collapsed, clutching her chest, struggling to breathe. He had rushed her to a cheap clinic, praying it was something minor. Instead, the doctors had delivered a crushing verdict: advanced aortic stenosis. The aortic valve of her heart was narrowing, choking her blood flow. Without surgery, she would die.

The symptoms grew worse day by day. Her chest pains. Her fainting spells. Her weakening body. Every night Nathan had listened to her labored breathing and felt powerless.

He had begged Victor Voss for help, using his position at the company as leverage. To his surprise, the cold CEO had allowed her to be admitted at Morrison’s Hospital, the city’s most prestigious medical center. “I’m not heartless,” Victor had said, his voice clipped. “But don’t mistake this for charity.”

Nathan thought that meant salvation. But when the bill arrived, it was like staring at a mountain he could never climb. He hadn’t been able to afford it. And when he begged Victor again, the man had spat on his desperation. “You’re a beggar, Nathan. A shameless beggar. I’ve done enough. Don’t ever think I’ll give you an advance on your salary. Earn your keep like everyone else.”

That night, his mother had been discharged for unpaid bills. And just weeks later, she had died in her sleep on a cold October night.

Nathan remembered kneeling by her lifeless body, his heart ripped open, his tears soaking her sheets. That was the night he had cursed the world, cursed money, cursed the cruelty of the powerful.

He swallowed hard now, sitting beside her living form. Not this time. Never again.

He brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead with trembling fingers. His voice was low, shaky, but filled with a fire he hadn’t had before. “I’ll save you, Mom. I swear it. This time I’ll save you.”

Ding!

The air shimmered before his eyes.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

┏2/3 Goals have been Identified┛

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The glowing letters of the Bitcoin system hovered in the air, sharp and unyielding. Nathan frowned. Goals? He remembered a similar notification when the system had first activated.

But before he could dwell on it, the door swung open.

A man in a crisp white coat stepped inside, adjusting his glasses. Behind him trailed the same nurse from earlier, her face twisted into that smug, condescending smirk that made Nathan’s blood simmer.

“Mr. Cole,” the doctor began, his tone professional but cold. “I’m glad I caught you before you left. We need to discuss your mother’s stay here.”

Nathan stood slowly, his body tense. His eyes darted to his mother, then back to the pair. “Alright. But can we… do this outside?”

The doctor and nurse exchanged a glance, as if sharing some private joke. The doctor gave a short nod. “Very well.”

Out in the hallway, the air felt heavier. The nurse leaned against the wall, arms folded, chewing her gum with loud, exaggerated pops. The doctor pulled out a folder, flipping it open.

“So,” Nathan asked, trying to keep his voice even. “What’s the problem?”

The nurse sneered before the doctor could speak. “The problem, Mr. Cole, is that your account is overdue. You’ve racked up quite the bill for someone like you.” Her eyes flicked over his wrinkled shirt, his worn shoes. Disgust curled her lips.

Nathan forced a steady breath. “The bill isn’t in my name. It’s in my uncle’s. Jared Cole.”

The doctor’s face tightened. “And where is this Jared Cole? He has not stepped foot in this hospital. We have no contact with him or his accounts. The responsibility rests on you.”

“I…” Nathan faltered, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I don’t have the money right now. But I will. By the end of the week. Please, just give me a little time.”

The doctor sighed, shaking his head. “This is Morrison’s Hospital, Mr. Cole. The best hospital in the state. We don’t hold beds for those who can’t pay their dues.”

Nathan’s chest tightened. “Please. She needs this care.”

“So do all our clients,” the doctor replied flatly.

The nurse’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Stop being a pest and pay us already, you maggot.”

Nathan clenched his fists but held his tongue. “I’m asking for one week. Just one week.”

The nurse scoffed, folding her arms. “One week? Do you think this is a free clinic? We have patients who can pay. Pack up that hag of a mother and take her out of here. Our illustrious patients need that bed.”

The words pierced Nathan’s chest like knives. He looked to the doctor, desperate. The man only shrugged. “You heard her. If you can’t pay, she must leave.”

Nathan’s knees wobbled. “You don’t understand. She’s critically ill. Moving her could kill her. Please. Just one more day. I’ll have the money tomorrow.”

The nurse barked a laugh. “Tomorrow? And what miracle will save you by then? You’re broke. Face it. If you cared so much, you’d already have the money.”

Nathan’s head dropped, shame burning his face. “I’m begging you. That’s all I can do. Please.”

The nurse tilted her head, her grin cruel. “Since you’re begging so nicely… get on your knees. Kiss my feet.”

Nathan froze. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said sweetly, mockery dripping from her voice. “Show us how desperate you are. On your knees, boy.”

The doctor chuckled quietly. “Well? Pride won’t save your mother, Mr. Cole.”

Nathan’s stomach twisted. His eyes darted toward his mother’s room. He thought of her fragile body. Her shallow breaths. He thought of losing her again.

His pride screamed at him not to do it. But pride wasn’t worth her life.

So he sank slowly to his knees. The nurse’s grin widened. He bent down, pressing his lips to the polished shoe.

The nurse burst out laughing, her cruel cackle echoing through the hallway. She shoved him with her heel, sending him stumbling back. “Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.”

She waved him off. “Fine. Your mother can stay another day. But you’d better have the money tomorrow. We don’t give free care to mutts like you.”

The doctor smirked. “You heard her. Now get out. Your presence is an embarrassment to this hospital.”

Nathan lay there for a moment, his heart hammering, shame coursing through him like poison. His fists clenched against the floor.

Of course. Of course. It’s always the same. Once people think they’re above you, once they see you have no money, no power… they treat you like trash.

Brandon Mercer was right. Money and power are all that matters. Anyone who says otherwise simply doesn’t have enough of it.

The nurse’s mocking voice cut in again. “Didn’t you hear? Get out, mutt!”

Nathan pushed himself up slowly, keeping his head low so they wouldn’t see the fire in his eyes. He memorized the nurse’s name tag. Nurse Helen.

He turned his head slightly, whispering under his breath. “You’ll pay. Every last one of you.”

As he stepped into the hallway, the laughter of the staff followed him. He ignored it. His mind was already elsewhere.

Ding!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

┏Morrison’s Hospital is now an enemy company┛

┏Enemy companies must be disrupted┛

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Nathan’s lips curved into the faintest smile. Not of joy. But of cold promise.

“They’ll regret this,” he murmured. “Every last one of them.”