The Castaway Supreme

Chapter 6: The Weight of Cash

The massive yellow bulldozer let out a terrifying squeal as the driver pushed the gas pedal down hard. The heavy metal blade tilted forward, moving toward Christian’s chest at a steady pace. 

Clara screamed at the top of her lungs, covering her face with her hands. Peter collapsed onto his knees on the wooden porch, closing his eyes because he could not bear to watch the young man get crushed into pieces.

Kane laughed with pure joy, jumping up and down like a manic child. Run him over. Flatten him like a pancake.

Christian did not move a single inch. He stood as still as a giant stone monument in the middle of the road. His feet were planted firmly in the mud, and his face did not show even a tiny trace of fear. To him, this giant machine was nothing but a toy.

Stop the vehicle right now.

A loud, ice-cold voice boomed from the end of the alley. It was Vance.

Before the bulldozer blade could touch Christian’s shirt, three large black SUVs turned the corner with a loud screech of tires. They drifted beautifully across the muddy road, parking in a perfect line right between the bulldozer and Christian. 

The heavy vehicles acted like an unmovable wall of steel. The bulldozer driver slammed on his brakes in a panic, stopping the machine just inches away from the first SUV's bumper.

The doors of the black SUVs flew open simultaneously. Eight tall, muscular men in matching black suits and dark sunglasses stepped out. They moved with perfect military precision, instantly surrounding Miller, Kane, and their four cheap security guards. 

These men looked like real professional soldiers, and they held themselves with terrifying authority.

Miller’s jaw dropped. His small eyes widened as he looked at the expensive SUVs and the elite guards. What is the meaning of this. Who are you people.

Vance stepped out from the back seat of the middle SUV. He adjusted his silk tie calmly, walking straight past the guards. He did not look at Miller or Kane at all. Instead, he walked right up to Christian, stopping exactly two steps away.

With a deep and respectful motion, Vance bowed his head very low before Christian. Master, I am deeply sorry for the delay. I have brought what you requested.

Christian nodded slowly, his eyes remaining cold. You are right on time, Vance. Bring it here.

One of the elite guards walked forward, carrying a large, heavy briefcase made of shiny grey titanium metal. The briefcase had four heavy security locks on the front. The guard handed the heavy case to Christian with both hands, bowing deeply as he stepped back.

Kane’s face twisted in confusion. He looked at Miller, then he looked at Christian, who was holding the heavy briefcase effortlessly with one hand. What is in that box. Is this another trick.

Christian did not say a word. He placed the heavy titanium briefcase on the flat hood of Vance's luxury SUV. He pressed his thumb against the central lock. A loud, sharp click echoed through the quiet street as the security system opened. Christian pulled the top of the case open, tilting it forward so that Miller and Kane could see inside.

Miller gasped so hard he began to choke on his own spit.

The briefcase was packed completely full of thick, neat stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills. The money was bound in official bank straps, smelling of fresh ink and paper wealth. There was no space left inside the case. It was a wall of pure cash.

Christian grabbed the bottom of the briefcase with his strong hands. With a sudden, careless motion, he flipped the entire case upside down.

Thick bricks of cash spilled out of the box, tumbling through the air like heavy leaves. They rained down onto the dirty ground, landing right in the dark mud at Miller’s feet. Five million dollars in cold, hard cash lay scattered in the dirt, piling up over Miller’s polished leather shoes.

Here is your money, Miller, Christian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. Five million dollars. This is much more than your dirty block of land is worth.

Miller stared at the money in the mud. His brain stopped working completely. He had spent his whole life cheating poor people for a few thousand dollars, but he had never seen this much physical cash in one place in his entire life. 

His knees began to shake violently. He looked at the cash, then he looked up at Christian's torn clothes. He realized with a surge of terror that this man was not a beggar. No beggar in the world could dump five million dollars in the dirt without blinking an eye.

Is this real. Miller whispered, his voice trembling as he dropped to his knees, his expensive grey suit soaking in the mud as his hands reached out to touch the cash. This cannot be real.

It is very real, Christian said, stepping closer. And now, the land belongs to me. This diner belongs to me. You and your thugs are trespassing on my private property.

Kane looked at the money, his mouth wide open. He felt a cold sweat breaking out across his neck. He wanted to run away, but the eight elite guards in black suits were staring at him like hungry wolves.

Miller began to scoop up the wet money into his arms, his face covered in a mixture of greed and pure fear. He looked at Christian, his voice cracking. Who are you. Please, tell me who you are.

Christian did not answer him. He just looked down at Miller as if the landlord were a small, disgusting bug.

Suddenly, a loud, high-pitched ringing sound broke the silence.

It was coming from Miller’s jacket pocket. His mobile phone was vibrating so violently that it was shaking his entire frame. Miller did not want to answer it, but when he saw the name on the screen, his face turned from white to completely green. 

The caller ID showed the name of the ultimate billionaire CEO who owned the massive conglomerate funding Miller's entire real estate company. This was the man who held Miller’s life and career in his hands.

Miller pressed the answer button with a shaking thumb, lifting the phone to his ear. H, Hello, Boss. I am currently handling the slum project right now.

Before Miller could finish his sentence, a loud, panicked scream exploded from the phone's speaker. The voice was so loud that everyone on the street could hear it clearly.

You stupid idiot. The billionaire CEO screamed, his voice full of absolute terror and weeping despair. What did you do. What did you do down there.

Miller blinked, his tears falling into the mud. Boss, what do you mean. I am just clearing the diner.

Shut up. The CEO roared, breathing heavily like a dying man. Our company is ruined. Just ten seconds ago, a mysterious global force bought out all our bank debts. Our stocks have crashed to zero. Every single bank has frozen our accounts. 

My palace is being seized by the state right now. The higher authorities told me that someone in my company insulted a supreme god in the slum district. If you do not fix this right now, I will personally cut your throat. Get on your knees and beg for mercy.

The phone went completely dead with a sharp beep. Miller’s hand slipped, and the expensive device fell from his fingers, splashing right into a puddle of muddy water.