Michael cracked his knuckles, staring intently at the four company profiles displayed on his monitor. The blue light illuminated his face in the dimly lit apartment as midnight approached.
"These four," he thought, tapping the screen. "These are the golden tickets that no one else can see yet."
He'd chosen his targets carefully from his future knowledge:
NeuraTech: A small medical device company that would announce a breakthrough stimulation device in the next two hours, sending their stock soaring.
QuantumShield: A cybersecurity firm about to land a massive government contract.
Then
GreenHorizon and
"In my previous life, I watched these four companies explode while sitting on the sidelines," Michael mused. "Not this time."
He opened his trading platform and began dividing his capital. His fingers paused over the keyboard as he prepared to place the first order.
"This feels almost like cheating," he thought with a smile. "But then again, I've earned this advantage the hard way."
The first order went through for NeuraTech—buying a substantial position but not enough to trigger regulatory flags or move the market dramatically. Then the second for QuantumShield, followed by GreenHorizon and finally VisionStream.
Within twenty minutes, all four positions were established. Michael sat back, rubbing his eyes.
"And now we wait," he said to the empty room. "The catalyst events for each company are already in motion. They just haven't reached the public yet."
He set up alerts for significant price movements, then reclined on the small sofa against the wall.
Before he drifted away into sleep.
The sharp alert tone jolted Michael awake. Disoriented, he fumbled for his phone before realizing the sound came from his computer. The room was bathed in early morning sunlight, and his neck ached from the awkward sleeping position on the small sofa.
"What the..." he mumbled, squinting at the screen. The time showed 3:38AM.
A few more minutes before the stock market closes.
The trading platform was flashing with alerts. All four stocks were moving—not the gentle upward trend he'd expected, but dramatic, almost vertical spikes.
"There it is," Michael said, fully awake now as he clicked through the notifications.
NeuraTech: UP 127% QuantumShield: UP 83% GreenHorizon: UP 115% VisionStream: UP 92%
The stocks continued climbing. Clearly, institutional investors were piling in. His initial $78 million investment was now showing a paper value of over $160 million—and still rising.
A notification popped up on his screen:
"I need to get out before this attracts too much attention,” Michael said.
He quickly set up his sell orders, scheduling them to execute automatically the moment it crosses the mark. No need for brokers or financial advisors—he'd deliberately chosen a high-end trading platform that catered to wealthy self-directed investors precisely to avoid unnecessary interactions.
"The beauty of modern trading," he thought as he configured the orders. "No calls to make, no permissions to seek. Just me and the market."
“Now how do I pull out such funds,” Michael formulated his exit strategy carefully.
“The traditional banking system would immediately flag movements of this magnitude, potentially alerting father through the Crawford family's banking connections.”
“Yes,” a thought came to him.
"Cryptocurrency," he decided. "Untraceable, unattached to the Crawford name, and perfect for large sums that need to move quickly."
He opened an encrypted browser and set up a secure cryptocurrency wallet, configuring it with multiple security layers.
Michael watched in awe as the sell orders executed, converting his investments back to cash. The final tally appeared on screen:
$359,871,543.22
"Three hundred and fifty-nine million dollars," he whispered, staring at the number. "In a single day."
Without hesitation, he initiated the transfer to his cryptocurrency wallet, converting the entire amount to Bitcoin. The transaction would be complete within hours, leaving no trace in the traditional banking system that could alert his family.
"From zero to nearly four hundred million in cryptocurrency," he thought as he watched the transfer initiate. "Not bad for my first day as a time traveler with inside information."
**
Across town in the gleaming Financial District, several stock brokers gathered around a monitoring station at GlobalTrade Securities, one of the city's bustling trading firms.
"What the hell is happening with these four?" demanded Gerald Thornton, a senior broker, pointing at the screens showing the skyrocketing stocks. "They all exploded with no warning."
A younger broker leaned forward, squinting at the data. "It's weird. The trading patterns show someone got in big across all four companies just before midnight."
"The same trader?" Gerald's eyebrows shot up. "That's not a coincidence. That's someone with inside information."
"Maybe," replied Sarah Winters, adjusting her headset. "But here's the strange part—whoever it was sold everything almost instantly. Took profits a few minutes later."
"Someone with insider knowledge wouldn't exit that quickly," another broker noted, coffee cup paused midway to his lips. "They'd ride it longer, knowing the full potential."
Sarah clicked through several screens of data. "Whoever it was, they've completely withdrawn. Almost like they got scared by their own success."
"Or they got exactly what they needed," Gerald mused, loosening his tie. "Nobody gets that lucky by accident."
"The biggest profiter has sold off," the junior broker announced, pointing to a transaction log. "We can't see who it was though—the platform privacy shields are in place."
"A professional trader, then," Gerald concluded.
"Maybe," Sarah said thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair. "Or maybe just a newbie who got incredibly lucky and ran with their winnings.”
Gerald tapped his pen against the desk. "If you see that pattern again, flag it. Someone out there just made a fortune while we all watched."
**
Back in his apartment, Michael watched the final confirmation of his cryptocurrency transfer come through. Three hundred and fifty-nine million dollars, now securely stored in his digital wallet.
"By tomorrow, those stocks will plummet," he thought, closing the laptop with satisfaction. "The announcements never live up to the leaks, and profit-taking will drive prices down. But by then, I'll be long gone with my gains."
He checked his watch—still early enough to get home, shower, and make it to the office without raising Katherine's suspicions. He'd have to maintain his charade of dedicated Crawford executive for a while longer.
"Three hundred and fifty-nine million dollars," he thought again, the reality still sinking in. "Enough to fund our company and still have plenty left over for... contingencies."
The System message appeared before him:
[Team Building and Capital acquisition successful. Reward granted. Reward: Enhanced Strength.]
Michael nodded to himself as he put on his coat. Everything was proceeding according to plan.
He took one last look at his cryptocurrency wallet balance on his phone, then headed for the door. It was time to start building his new empire—and his revenge.
Latest Chapter
Chapter 71
Michael spent the next morning doing damage control. Conference calls with key board members. Reassurances to nervous investors. Carefully worded statements to the press about "internal governance reviews" that meant absolutely nothing and everything at once.By noon, he was exhausted. Not from the work, but from the constant performance. Every conversation required calibration. Every word needed to be measured against how it might be used against him later.His assistant buzzed. "Mr. Crawford? Kylie Crawford is here. She says it's urgent."Michael straightened. Kylie. His protégé, the brilliant Columbia senior he'd been mentoring since his father's birthday celebration. The kid who'd gone on national television and publicly credited him with inspiring her unconventional path."Send her in."Kylie walked in looking different from the poised student he'd seen in her TV interview. She wore jeans and a Columbia hoodie, but there was something harder in her expression. She carried her bat
Chapter 70
The aftermath felt like walking through a bombed-out building. Everything looked the same from the outside, but the foundations had shifted in ways that would take months to fully understand.Michael stood in his office, watching through the window as Eric's Range Rover peeled out of the underground garage. His brother's departure wasn't graceful. Wasn't dignified. Just angry and desperate and completely ruined."He left his laptop," Olivia said from the doorway. "Security found it in the boardroom. Still logged in."Michael turned. "What's on it?""Everything we already knew about Thornton. But also..." She hesitated. "Draft communications he never sent. Plans that go way beyond what we exposed today.""Show me."They moved to Michael's private conference room. Olivia connected Eric's laptop to the display screen, and Michael felt his blood run cold.Eric hadn't just been planning to facilitate a Thornton acquisition. He'd been planning to systematically dismantle Crawford Enterprise
Chapter 69
The war room in Michael's penthouse had taken on a life of its own. Coffee cups littered every surface. Olivia had commandeered the entire dining table, three monitors glowing in the pre-dawn darkness. Megan paced near the windows, phone pressed to her ear, speaking in rapid Chinese to someone halfway across the world.Michael hadn't slept in hours. Didn't need to. His Enhanced Intuition was running on pure adrenaline and righteous anger."Got him," Olivia said suddenly.Michael crossed to her station. "Got who?""The actor. The one in the photos Eric showed the board." She pulled up a headshot from a talent agency website. "Blend, twenty-eight, specializes in 'corporate training videos and educational content.' Based in Newark."Michael studied the face. Same guy from Eric's fabricated evidence, the one who'd supposedly been his "dealer" in the staged photographs."Can we reach him?""Already did." Megan ended her call and turned from the window. "He's willing to talk. For the right
Chapter 68
The System message appeared in Michael's vision as he stood backstage, still breathing hard from his improvised runway performance: [Emergency Task Completed: Create something revolutionary from nothing. Reward: Enhanced Creativity - Level 3 Activated] Michael felt the enhancement take effect immediately. Ideas began flowing through his mind with unprecedented clarity and connection. The collaborative demonstration he'd just performed wasn't just a solution to sabotage—it was the foundation for an entirely new approach to neural-responsive technology. "Michael," Sophia called urgently, "the media wants statements about the collaborative presentation. They're calling it a breakthrough in interactive fashion technology." "Because it is," Michael replied, his Enhanced Creativity revealing possibilities he'd never considered before. "What we just demonstrated accidentally is more revolutionary than anything we planned deliberately." Louise approached, still glowing from the successfu
Chapter 67
Michael watched in horror as Louise stepped onto the runway wearing the compromised prototype. His enhanced intuition was screaming warnings, but there was no way to stop her without creating an even bigger disaster in front of the international audience. "Systems failure in prototype six," Rebecca announced urgently from the technical station. "Neural interface is malfunctioning, color responses are erratic." "Can we fix it remotely?" Sophia asked, frantically working at her tablet. "Not without shutting down the entire outfit," Rebecca replied. "And that would leave Louise wearing a dead garment on live television." Michael felt his heart pounding as Louise reached the center of the runway. The prototype was supposed to demonstrate their most advanced emotional visualization technology, but instead it was flickering randomly between colors that had no connection to Louise's actual emotional state. The audience noticed immediately. Murmurs rippled through the venue as fashion ex
Chapter 66
The atmosphere at Lincoln Center was electric with anticipation. Fashion Week had returned, and this time So Black wasn't the mysterious newcomer—they were the main event. Michael stood backstage wearing his Black Investor mask, watching final preparations for what the media was calling "the most anticipated fashion show of the decade.""Pre-orders are already at two million units," Sophia reported, checking her tablet. "And the show doesn't start for another hour."Louise approached, radiating the confidence that had become her signature since her breakthrough performance months earlier. She was no longer the struggling model taking desperate risks—she was the undisputed face of revolutionary fashion technology."The international press is incredible," Louise said, adjusting one of the new So Black prototypes. "Journalists from thirty countries, technology reporters, medical professionals. This isn't just a fashion show anymore."Michael nodded, feeling the weight of expectations tha
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