America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

At 3:30 PM, Max left the building on time, drove the Cadillac, and took the familiar road home.

By the roadside, in an old Toyota that had changed hands several times, Elena spotted the Cadillac turning into the intersection. She pulled out her phone to make a call, saying, "The idiot is on the road!"

After getting a response, she followed from a distance in her car.

The traffic wasn't heavy, and Max drove fast. Midway, he took a call, "Honey, you go pick up the kids. Tonight, I'll make them chocolate cookies."

Entering a stretch of two-way, two-lane narrow road, the Cadillac drove over a small rock, jolting slightly. Max instinctively slowed down, adjusted the steering slightly to avoid the rest of the debris.

Whoever that piece of trash who was born without an asshole was, scattering rocks on the road.

Max slowed down once more, then his attention was suddenly captured by something at the small road on the left.

It was a large Ted costume, with the character holding up a colorful banner reading, "Teddy bear sale this weekend."

The twins at home loved Ted, and Max had grown quite fond of them as well, so he couldn't help but take a few extra glances.

......

On the other side of the small intersection, lush green bushes thrived. Harris crouched on his bike, supporting himself with one leg and keeping a close eye on the Ted across the street, waiting for the signal.

Since they had rehearsed several times before, his fractured left arm hurt terribly, contorting his face with pain.

Harris, enduring the pain, calculated internally, "The chances of success are as high as sixty percent, I can do this!"

Just then, the person in the Ted costume across the street threw away the colorful banner.

Harris sharply pressed down on the pedals of his bike, rushing out and squeezing through his clenched teeth, "For money!"

When faced with the allure of money, the poor can muster incredible strength.

......

The despicable bear at the intersection, having thrown away the banner with his left hand, suddenly clenched it into a fist and placed it in front of his fluffy belly. Then he twisted his waist and thrusted his hips, with a frequency so fast it was almost comical, as if trying to shoot down airplanes from the sky.

Max had never encountered such a despicable bear costume before and nearly burst into laughter.

A significant part of his attention was drawn to the despicable bear to his left front.

Harris dashed out from behind the bushes on the right-hand side.

Max caught a glimpse of the figure and instinctively hit the brakes.

The sound of collision rang out, the car shook, and someone was thrown onto the road.

Max's head was briefly confused; then he regained his senses, cursed "damn it," unfastened his seatbelt, and hurried out to check the situation.

The car wasn't going fast, so he felt the problem shouldn't be serious.

An old bicycle lay tilted in front of the Cadillac, its rear wheel still spinning. The right headlight cover of the Cadillac was cracked.

On the road lay a young white man screaming in agony.

Harris wasn't pretending; the pain was real, a piercing agony that made him scream at the top of his lungs.

Max anxiously asked, "Are you okay?"

It was so painful that Harris didn't feel like answering. After Max asked again, Harris, pale-faced, said, "My left hand, my left hand is broken!"

Max was alarmed; just as he was considering whether to flee, he noticed the despicable bear from the intersection approaching.

There was a witness.

Martin picked up the small camera he had set up on the bench by the road and ran towards Elena's car, which was coming his way. He put the camera in the passenger seat and gestured with his hand.

Elena glanced at Harris on the ground, immediately drove off to a previously arranged location, and hurried to make a copy.

Martin took off the Ted's oversized head and took out his phone, asking loudly, "Mr. Max, do we need to call the police?"

Max, realizing it was Martin, had an expression like he'd seen a ghost.

Harris, propping himself up with one hand, said, "Dial 911, call an ambulance quick!"

Of course, Martin wouldn't dial 911. Holding the Ted's head in one hand and the phone in the other as if following his boss's orders, a good employee, he asked softly, "Mr. Max?"

Max absolutely couldn't let anyone call the police; he had already calmed down.

A normal car accident was nothing, even breaking someone's arm wasn't a big deal.

But causing serious injury while driving under the influence was a serious crime, which could lead to jail time.

"No need to tie up public resources over such a small matter," Max said to Harris, his tone gentle, as if he intended to take full responsibility, "I'm sorry. The primary responsibility for this accident lies with me. I'll cover your medical expenses, and I'll compensate you for lost wages and the like, as required."

He glanced at the bicycle with its handlebars twisted out of shape: "I'll compensate for any other losses as well."

Harris, grimacing in pain, clenched his teeth and said, "I'm in the process of applying to colleges, preparing for the SAT. Now that my arm's broken, my chances of getting into my target schools have dropped by eighty percent!"

The friendliness on Max's face slowly vanished as he looked at the young man's attire and the battered bicycle, then stood, "Alright then, let's go the normal route. You sue my insurance company through a lawyer. The insurance company will handle your compensation."

If this poor guy had a normal brain, he'd know what was in his best interest.

Martin lifted his phone and began to press the number 9, saying, "Mr. Max, let me call 911 for you."

"Stop! Mind your own business!" Max wished he could kick this idiot away, crouching in front of Harris, "Kid, I'm sincere about settling this with you. I'm deeply sorry about what happened today, but sincerity goes both ways. I will show you my sincerity, and you will show me yours, right?"

Having discussed Max's psychological bottom line beforehand, Harris raised three fingers, "I've been seriously injured and this will delay my exams. Three thousand dollars! Three thousand dollars is what it'll take to compensate for my losses."

The friendliness disappeared from Max's face, "One thousand dollars, that's the most I can give you."

Harris looked at Martin, "Please call 911 for me, thank you."

As two cars passed by, Max, not wanting to encounter any Good Samaritans, mustered a weak smile, "I'm a responsible person. Two thousand dollars, I can't offer any more."

Harris said, "Fine, two thousand dollars, but you need to pay immediately."

Max sighed with relief, went back to his car, pulled out his checkbook from his bag, and wrote two checks for one thousand dollars each.

Harris, who had handled many checks at Scott's shop, made sure there were no issues and accepted them.

Max opened the driver's side door, ready to go home and make chocolate cookies for his darlings, and said to Martin, who was blocking his way, "Could you move aside a bit?"

Martin's hand suddenly reached out and closed the car door.

Max, slower on the uptake, patted the Ted costume on Martin, "I'm busy today, we'll get in touch later."

Martin said with a smile, "Actually, Mr. Max, I'm just a concerned citizen who likes to help people. Not calling 911 to seek help for the injured, I'd feel guilty and wouldn't sleep well for days."

Max grew alert, "Kid, what are you trying to do? I'm warning you, don't mess about!"

Martin didn't want to drag things out, so he got straight to the point, "The new boss was worried I wasn't working hard enough, so he set up a small camera to keep an eye on me, pointing right at this intersection."

Max's face went dark, his eyes sharp like an eagle's, scanning every part of Martin's person.

Martin, worried he might have a gun, said, "The boss just passed by here, taking the camera with him. If necessary, I can make a call to have it brought back."

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