Inside a luxury apartment near Roppongi Hills.
“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred.”
With a suppressed low roar, Shinji released the parallel bars, drenched in sweat, and slid down onto the yoga mat.
His cheap moisture-wicking T-shirt was completely soaked, clinging tightly to his thin back and outlining the still-trembling muscle lines.
In reality, this was entirely his imagination; there were no visible muscles on his slender body.
His cheap T-shirt didn’t actually wick moisture either; that was just his self-proclaimed “man of the people” approach.
“Heart rate 145, blood pressure normal.
Muscle fatigue has reached the critical threshold.”
Sirius stood to the side, her voice as cold as a weather report, “Boss, today’s rehabilitation intensity has already exceeded the limit.
If you want to be back in a wheelchair by tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, feel free to continue.”
“Hoo… hoo…”
Shinji gasped heavily, his chest rising and falling violently with each breath.
He could feel this body coming back to life.
As expected of me!
“Don’t worry… I won’t die.”
Shinji grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face haphazardly, a weak yet arrogant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Your boss is the chosen one, the future god of superhumans; what is a little pain like this?”
He struggled to stand up, refusing the hand Sirius extended.
Although his legs were still trembling, he finally stood straight.
No more wheelchair, no more assistance needed.
For the past month, Shinji had poured all his energy into two things.
First, the rehabilitation of this body.
Second, making money.
Although the remaining tens of millions would be enough to last a few years, stock investment returns were not short-term, not to mention industrial expansion and accelerating the development of the era.
Financial investment was necessary, but physical manufacturing was even more important.
However, according to his understanding, the fastest way for an ordinary person to make money was sports betting.
After all, he couldn’t do anything truly privileged or illegal, but his memory wasn’t that good; he only had impressions of some NBA games.
“Sirius, have the results for last night’s Pistons versus Spurs game come out yet?”
Shinji asked nonchalantly while moving toward the bathroom.
Hearing this question, the usually expressionless Sirius felt her eyebrows twitch imperceptibly.
“The Detroit Pistons narrowly won 89 to 87, with a point spread within the 3 points you predicted.”
Sirius watched his back, a hint of complex emotion she couldn’t hide flashing in her eyes, “This is the 20th game you have bet on in the last month.
Including this one, you have won a total of 16 games.”
A month ago, when Shinji asked her to find underground gambling channels and specifically requested to bet on NBA regular season games, Sirius’s first reaction was that the fox had finally shown its tail.
So-called genius investor, so-called prophet who could see through the future—in the end, he was just a rich second-generation heir who started squandering money and seeking thrills once he had it.
Gambling was the standard configuration for a prodigal son.
For the first two games, Shinji bet on the then-championship favorite Lakers to lose, but the Lakers won by a landslide.
Those two significant losses made Sirius sneer inwardly, thinking that this young boss’s myth was nothing more than that, and that this would be enough to shatter Shinji’s fantasy.
However, starting from the third game, things became strange.
Whether it was an underdog team suddenly performing well or a strong team unexpectedly failing, it was as if Shinji had the script.
He no longer focused on the obvious wins and losses, but instead focused on high-odds bets like point spreads and single-quarter scores.
“So, I won?”
Shinji stopped and looked back, “Even after deducting those vampire-like commissions and service fees, there should still be quite a bit this time, right?”
“Yes.”
Sirius pulled up the account interface, the numbers on it glowing green, “After deducting the principal from the four losses and paying the high commissions to the underground betting syndicate, your offshore private account has seen a net profit increase of 10 million US dollars.”
10 million US dollars.
In this winter of 2004, this was wealth that an ordinary person couldn’t earn in ten lifetimes.
Yet this teenager, simply by sitting in a wheelchair watching a few game recordings and moving his fingers, had pocketed it.
“Only 10 million…”
Shinji curled his lip, seemingly unsatisfied with this number, “Barely enough to get between my teeth.”
He wasn’t humble-bragging.
For him right now, what he urgently needed was liquid cash that could be immediately invested into physical manufacturing.
He wanted to build things.
Smart wearable devices, drone prototypes, and even more advanced exoskeleton assistive equipment.
These things couldn’t be built just by relying on stock market bubbles; they required real money to invest in production lines and laboratories.
Winning 16 out of 20 games not only required luck, but also some means of interfering with reality.
As an insider of the mystery side, Aegis, Sirius couldn’t help but suspect whether Shinji had used some kind of magic.
Shinji naturally saw through her meaning.
He leaned against the bathroom doorframe, his eyes playful, “Sirius, do you know?
In this world, information asymmetry is the most mysterious mystery of all.”
He pointed to his own head.
“I don’t need to predict whether every single ball will go in during every game; I just need to know who will win so I can make money.”
In reality, he was bullshitting.
He didn’t remember that clearly; the few games he lost were purely because his memory was fuzzy and he misremembered.
But this didn’t stop him from putting on an unfathomable appearance in front of his subordinate.
“Besides, the few games I lost were for testing.”
Shinji added casually, “If I won every single one from the start, do you think those underground bookies would let me take the money away safely?
A little appropriate stupidity is a color that protects oneself.”
Sirius was stunned.
She looked at the teenager in front of her.
If it was true… then this person’s scheming was far too deep.
Christmas Eve.
The streets of Tokyo were already surrounded by a thick festive atmosphere.
The shop windows in Ginza were hung with red and green decorations, huge Christmas trees stood at the entrances of major shopping malls, and the wrapped fairy lights twinkled even during the day.
Inside the Kisaki Law Office, however, there was a solemn and busy scene.
“Attorney Kisaki, this is a fax that just arrived.”
Assistant Kuriyama Midori hurried into the office, holding a document, “It’s from the legal department of Aegis Security Company, regarding the settlement agreement for the service fee dispute with New World Holdings.”
Eri Kisaki, who was burying her head in case files, looked up and reached out to take the document.
She was wearing a wine-red turtleneck sweater today, with a dark gray professional suit jacket over it, and the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose hid a trace of fatigue in her eyes.
After quickly scanning the document, Eri Kisaki’s lips curled up slightly, revealing a smile that belonged to a victor.
“Full refund of the premium portion, and waiver of the security service management fee for the next year… Hmph, they know what’s good for them.”
Although the money from this case wasn’t much, it could even be said to be pitifully small, she had spent a lot of effort on it over the past month.
Although Aegis had a deep background, they still couldn’t escape her “Queen’s Eye” when it came to exploiting loopholes in legal clauses and providing evidence for commercial fraud.
“Um…”
Kuriyama Midori looked at her boss, who seemed to be in a good mood, and hesitated before saying, “Since the case is closed, should we notify Mr.
Matou?
After all, this refund amount is nearly 200,000 US dollars.”
Upon hearing this name, Eri Kisaki’s hand, which was flipping through the documents, paused.
Maybe it’s not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
“And If you’re enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!”