Chapter 5: I Am Really Not a Human Trafficker (Please Favorite and Recommend)

### Chapter 5: I Am Really Not a Human Trafficker (Please Favorite and Recommend)

"Hey, Richard, want something to eat?"

"The usual!"

In the morning, the sky was clear in the south Bronx. Richard, with his arm in a sling, walked into a breakfast diner.

After a few days of rest, his gunshot wound had mostly healed. The doctor was surprised, but Richard was not. Ever since being electrocuted, his physical fitness and recovery abilities had significantly improved. Whenever he got injured, he healed faster than the average person, which was why he dared to fight recklessly in the ring.

"Hey, Richard, I heard you struck it rich."

While eating breakfast, an ugly face popped up next to him.

"Damn it, Mike, you spit in my plate." Richard pushed the face away. "Why aren't you out pimping? No business?"

"No clients this early."

"Why not? The early bird catches the worm."

"Hahaha, Richard, tell me, did you really get rich? They say you scammed Andy out of a huge sum, tens of thousands of dollars. Tsk tsk~" Mike said enviously.

"Hmph, you only see the wolf eating meat, but not the wolf getting beaten." Richard pointed to his shoulder.

"So, it's true you made a lot of money?"

"Get lost. Do you only have money in your eyes?"

"Surviving and making a fortune, getting hurt is nothing. Richard, remember to take me along next time you get rich." Mike laughed, grabbed a piece of meat from Richard's plate, and quickly left.

"Fuck, don't let me see you again."

Richard cursed angrily.

"Hey, Richard, did you really get rich? Can you lend me some money?"

"Richard, lend me some cash. I'm running out of money to buy weed."

"Richard, we're friends. Come on..."

Soon, everyone in the diner who knew him gathered around.

"It's a lie. If I had scammed Andy out of money, could I still be sitting here eating breakfast?"

Richard waved his hand.

"So, you didn't get rich?"

"No!"

"Humph, say so earlier!"

The crowd dispersed.

"Fuck, a bunch of snobs."

Richard was so angry his wound almost split open.

After hastily finishing his breakfast, Richard grabbed a newspaper and walked into the Blade Artists Agency (BAA) across the street. The company was small, two floors with not many employees, just three including the boss.

Chairman Richard Blade, General Manager Anthony Temple, and an all-round employee, Susan, who took on multiple roles: the chairman's assistant, HR manager, receptionist, and security.

"Richard, I heard you got rich. You should pay me the six months' salary you owe me, right?"

At the company's entrance, Aunt Susan called out with a mop in hand.

"Hehe, Susan, look what I brought you. Ta-da! A freshly baked apple pie. How's that for company benefits?"

Richard smiled, holding a box.

"Hmph, trying to buy me off with an apple pie? If you don't pay my salary, don't blame me for going on strike."

Susan grabbed the apple pie and shouted.

"I'll definitely pay, definitely."

Susan was a 220-pound Black lady, big in size and voice. When she got angry, even the skilled Richard was intimidated.

"Susan, have there been any resumes submitted recently?"

"A few, some with nude photos."

"Really?"

"Here!"

Susan gave him a disdainful look and handed him some forms from the desk.

"Susan, keep up the good work. Our BAA will definitely grow big and strong, surpassing CAA."

"Richard, how long has it been since you saw a psychologist?"

"..."

"If you're short on money, I can lend you some. Don't let a mental illness drag on."

Susan pointed to her head.

Richard, embarrassed, hurried upstairs.

There were three rooms on the second floor: a bedroom, a gym, and an office. The office door bore a plaque that read "Chairman Richard Blade's Office," looking quite impressive.

Entering the office, Richard flipped a switch. The bulb flickered a few times and went out.

Damn it!

Using the daylight from the window, Richard browsed through a few resumes, focusing on names and photos. Unfortunately, none were familiar. If there were familiar names, he would see related information in his mind, just like when he saw Bündchen.

Too bad the company had been open for over a year without attracting a single celebrity.

"Maybe I should poach Bündchen?"

Richard rubbed his chin. IMG is a top-tier modeling agency worldwide, with many branches and a market value in the billions, way stronger than BAA.

It's worth a try.

Richard chuckled, taking out a business card from when he took a sanitary pad.

"Hey, Ms. Bündchen, good morning. Have you eaten?"

"Oh, damn it, it's you again. Can you stop calling every morning? You don't sleep, but I need to."

"Then I'll call at noon?"

"No, I work at noon."

"How about in the afternoon? If not, I'll call in the evening."

"..."

"If you change your number, I'll find you at your company."

"..."

Bündchen sighed on the phone. "Are you always this free?"

"Of course not. I'm the chairman of an artist agency, very busy every day."

"An agency? Chairman?"

Bündchen didn't believe it. What kind of chairman gets shot at night?

"Ms. Bündchen, please allow me to reintroduce myself. I'm Richard Blade, 20 years old, currently the chairman of Blade Artists Agency, located at 404 Jackson Street. You can visit anytime."

"Really? Do you have a reason for calling?"

"Yes, I wanted to ask if you've considered changing agencies. My agency, though new, has huge potential and connections in all circles..."

"Stop. Judging by your situation that day, your company must be shady. Who knows if it's involved in human trafficking. Wow, am I chatting with a trafficker? This is too dangerous. Goodbye, trafficker. No, never see you again."

Click~ Bündchen hung up.

Richard grimaced. I just want to make friends.

Sigh~

Hanging up, Richard began flipping through the newspaper, looking for ways to make money.

He used to see names like Bill Gates and Steve Jobs in the paper, knowing they'd get richer, and their companies would grow. He knew stars like Tom Hanks, Tom Cruise, and Julia Roberts would become famous.

But what good was that?

Without capital or connections, he couldn't join the game.

Damn, it's frustrating.

Richard sighed, seriously reading The Wall Street Journal, taking notes. He jotted down every name he saw. These were his treasures.

Hmm?

Suddenly, he saw a bald man's photo and a familiar name: Jeff Bezos.

The news introduced his company, Amazon, an e-commerce site mainly selling books. It went public in May, code AMZN, priced at $18 per share. In two months, it rose to $24 but fell back to around $20 due to Amazon's conservative strategy. As chairman, Bezos faced shareholder criticism.

Shareholders said Bezos was too timid and didn't know how to manage the company.

Bezos said those shareholders didn't understand business and talked nonsense.

This sparked a verbal war between the two sides.

"Amazon, this is a big company."

In the information he had, this company's market value would reach nearly a trillion dollars, becoming the industry's global leader, with annual net profits exceeding $80 billion.

And Bezos would become the world's richest man.

"Haha, I've caught a big fish. If I buy their stock, I'll never worry about money again."

Richard excitedly pumped his fist.

"Wait, I don't have money to buy stocks."

Richard's face darkened.

Seeing a gold mine but having no shovel was a terrible feeling.

"Knock, knock~"

"Richard, I'm here. Are you inside?"

It was the voice of Anthony, the fat man.

Richard's eyes lit up. Money is here.

(End of chapter)