The Homeless Man Who Knew The Future

Chapter 6

The black SUV glided through the morning traffic before turning into a quiet district far away from the city's financial center. Marcus sat silently in the back seat, watching the buildings pass by. He wasn't the type to ask unnecessary questions, and Richard Lawson seemed to appreciate that. Instead of making awkward conversation, the older man simply smiled and looked out the window as though he were studying the city.

Nearly twenty minutes later, the SUV stopped in front of a small restaurant tucked between two office buildings. From the outside, it looked ordinary, but the moment Marcus stepped inside, he realized appearances were deceiving. Every customer wore tailored suits. Deals were being negotiated over breakfast. Waiters greeted Richard by name, and the restaurant manager personally rushed over to escort them to a private dining room.

Marcus noticed everything.

People didn't react to Richard with respect.

They reacted with caution.

That usually meant one thing.

The man sitting across from him possessed far more influence than he allowed others to see.

"I hope you don't mind the simplicity," Richard said as coffee was served. "I own restaurants that cost ten times more than this one, but the food here is better."

Marcus smiled faintly.

"I've learned in the last twenty-four hours that expensive doesn't always mean valuable."

Richard laughed heartily.

"I like you more every minute."

The waiter placed breakfast on the table before quietly leaving the room.

For several seconds, neither man touched the food.

Richard broke the silence first.

"Tell me something honestly. Did you really steal that money?"

Marcus looked him directly in the eye.

"If I tell you no, would you believe me?"

Richard didn't answer immediately. Instead, he calmly poured coffee into his cup before speaking.

"No."

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

"Not because I think you're guilty," Richard continued, "but because trust isn't built in one conversation."

Marcus nodded.

"Fair enough."

Richard leaned back comfortably in his chair.

"So convince me."

Marcus picked up his fork, took a bite of breakfast, and chewed slowly before responding.

"I can't prove my innocence today."

Richard listened quietly.

"But I can prove something else."

"And what's that?"

Marcus's expression became serious.

"That my mind is still worth billions."

Richard smiled.

"That's quite a statement for a man whose net worth is currently around one hundred dollars."

Marcus didn't smile back.

"The number in my bank account doesn't determine the value of my mind."

Richard studied him carefully.

Most people in Marcus's position would have begged for help.

Some would have cried.

Others would have cursed the world.

Marcus had done none of those things.

He still spoke like a man sitting at the head of a billion-dollar boardroom.

That intrigued Richard.

"So," Richard said, "what exactly are you proposing?"

Marcus looked at the expensive watch on Richard's wrist before calmly asking, "How much money could you invest today without losing sleep?"

Richard blinked.

"You don't waste time."

"No."

Richard chuckled.

"I could invest ten million dollars before lunch and still sleep like a baby tonight."

Marcus nodded once.

"Good."

Richard almost laughed.

"You say that as if ten million is pocket change."

Marcus folded his hands on the table.

"I want you to invest every dollar of it in Skyline Microsystems."

The room became quiet.

Richard frowned.

"Skyline?"

"The technology company?"

Marcus nodded.

"Before noon."

Richard leaned back in his chair.

"Interesting."

"They've been trading quietly for months."

"They have no major announcements scheduled."

"Most analysts expect a stable quarter."

Marcus remained calm.

"I know."

"So why Skyline?"

Marcus looked out the window for a moment.

Because I saw tomorrow.

He couldn't say that.

No one would believe him.

Instead, he replied calmly, "Sometimes the biggest opportunities exist because everyone is looking in the wrong direction."

Richard tapped his fingers against the table.

"You realize you're asking me to gamble ten million dollars based on nothing more than your intuition."

Marcus shook his head.

"No."

"I'm asking you to bet on me."

Those five words hung heavily in the room.

Richard stared at Marcus for a long time.

There was no desperation in his voice.

No fear.

Only certainty.

It was almost unsettling.

Finally, Richard smiled.

"You remind me of someone."

Marcus looked up.

"My younger self."

He reached into his jacket and placed a sleek black card on the table.

"This card gives you temporary authority over one of my private trading accounts."

Marcus looked at it but didn't touch it.

Richard continued.

"The account holds ten million dollars."

Marcus's expression remained unchanged, but inside, his pulse quickened.

"If Skyline rises," Richard said, "we both make money."

"And if it falls?"

Richard shrugged.

"I lose ten million."

Marcus asked quietly, "You trust me that much?"

Richard smiled.

"No."

"I trust my instincts."

"And they've made me a very wealthy man."

Marcus finally picked up the black card.

"I won't disappoint you."

Richard checked the time.

"Neither of us has much longer to wait."

At the headquarters of Hale Capital, Damien Cross walked confidently into the executive boardroom. Directors immediately stood to congratulate him as he entered. Overnight, his reputation had transformed from second-in-command to the city's newest business star.

His secretary hurried inside carrying a tablet.

"Sir, the media response has been overwhelmingly positive."

Damien nodded.

"And Marcus?"

"The public has completely turned against him."

She handed him the tablet.

Every headline was exactly what he wanted.

FALL OF A FRAUD.

DAMIEN CROSS SAVES HALE CAPITAL.

FROM HERO TO CRIMINAL.

Damien smiled.

"Excellent."

One of the directors laughed.

"Marcus is finished."

"He'll spend years fighting lawsuits."

"Even if he's innocent, nobody will wait long enough to find out."

The room filled with satisfied laughter.

Damien, however, didn't join in.

Instead, he walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.

Something felt...

Too easy.

Marcus had accepted defeat far too calmly.

He remembered the final look Marcus had given him before leaving the hotel.

It wasn't the look of a broken man.

It was the look of someone making a promise.

Damien slowly tightened his grip on his coffee cup.

"Find him."

The room fell silent.

His assistant looked confused.

"Sir?"

"I want to know where Marcus Hale is."

"But... he's homeless now."

"I don't care."

Damien's voice hardened.

"Find him."

"I want to know every person he talks to."

"Every building he enters."

"Every dollar he spends."

"I want reports every hour."

The assistant hurried out of the room.

One of the directors smiled.

"You're worrying over nothing."

Damien didn't answer immediately.

His eyes remained fixed on the skyline.

"I've known Marcus for fifteen years."

The smile slowly disappeared from his face.

"He never accepts defeat."

Across the city, Marcus and Richard entered a private trading floor reserved for institutional investors. The room was calm, almost silent, with only the low hum of computers and large electronic screens displaying live market data.

Marcus's gaze went straight to one stock.

SKYLINE MICROSYSTEMS

$13.08

Exactly where it should be.

He looked at the clock.

Ten minutes.

If his vision was real...

Everything would change in ten minutes.

If it wasn't...

He would lose the only chance anyone had been willing to give him.

Richard folded his arms.

"No pressure."

Marcus smiled faintly.

"The pressure isn't on me."

Richard raised an eyebrow.

"It's on the future."

Before Richard could ask what he meant, every television screen on the trading floor suddenly switched to a breaking news broadcast.

Marcus slowly lifted his eyes.

His heartbeat accelerated.

The moment had arrived.