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So please, just listen to the guys from the security team. They know what they're doing."

There was a long pause. My dad finally spoke up. "Maybe we should just stay home with mom?"

"If you decide on that, I can have someone deliver anything you need to your door. You don't have to go anywhere."

My mom sighed, looking a little uneasy. "I have a gardening appointment with a client tomorrow. It's been scheduled for weeks…"

"It's okay, Mom," I reassured her. "The bodyguards can look out for you while you work. You don't have to cancel."

I stayed for a bit longer, sitting down with them for dinner.

My father ended up retiring just a month ago. I convinced him that there was no need to do a job that was bad for his health if I could just pay for his retirement.

But now I was bringing unnecessary stress to their lives...

As I was halfway through dinner, my phone buzzed on the table.

I glanced at the screen and saw it was Charlotte.

Without hesitation, I answered.

"Yes, Charlotte?"

"Babe..." Her voice was strained. "I was in a bit of a situation..."

I froze for a moment, my fork clattering onto the plate. "Charlie, what happened?" I asked, standing up abruptly from the table.

My parents turned to me, startled. "Jack! Where are you going?" my mom called as I rushed out the front door.

I didn't stop. "Charlie, where are you?"

"The security men took me to your house... but I'm fine," she said, her words slow.

I hurried to my car, fumbling for the keys. "What happened? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm okay, I promise."

"Tell me what happened," I said, concerned. "I'm in Wahneta; I can't make it to Gainesville quickly."

"Don't rush, Jack," she said, her voice shaky and uneven. "There was this guy… at my tennis practice. After I finished, he started walking up to me, like he was trying to get close. But the security guys... they must have thought something was off because... they shot him." Her voice cracked, barely holding it together.

"Did he have a gun?" I asked, gripping the steering wheel harder.

"He did..." she said quietly.

I paused for a second, trying to steady my own thoughts. "Is he alive?"

"I think so," she answered. "He seemed to be."

I took a deep breath, speaking calmly. "Charlie, listen to me. Stay at my house. I'll be there as fast as I can, but it'll take a bit of time. Don't leave the house for anything, okay?"

She was silent for a moment. I could tell she was trying to hold herself together.

"I won't let anything happen to you... do you hear me?" I continued, "Just trust the security team for now—they will keep you safe."

"Why, Jack?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Why is someone doing all this? The security guys told me the police are going to interview me. They said that I'm not the first one. What's all this? Why?"

I didn't know how to answer that. My mind raced with possible reasons, but I couldn't tell her that... not yet.

"We'll figure this out, Charlie. I don't know either."

"Do you really not know?" she asked, like she was suspicious of me.

"No... I really don't know," I said quietly.

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then, softly, she said, "Okay... I'm waiting for you."

After the call ended, all sorts of different thoughts filled my mind.

This couldn't be about Sam. He'd only met Charlotte once at that party. There was no logical reason for someone targeting him to go after her.

No, someone was definitely targeting me.

But instead of coming after me directly, they were tearing down everything around me—everything I had built.

It was as if they wanted to torture me, to dismantle my life piece by piece.

But who would go to such lengths? And why?

For some reason, the old hag fortuneteller that I met in China flashed in my mind.

Let's say that someone had discovered my secret—that I came from the future. Who in their right mind would ever believe such an outlandish thing?

Even if they knew, why would it bother them so much? If anything, they'd want to interview me as potential material for an article about an insane person.

At most they would want to question me, learn from me, or maybe exploit my knowledge.

This campaign of destruction just did not make sense, unless...

Unless someone is competing with me on the same level... perhaps my investments and projects were disrupting the future they envisioned for themselves.

Like I'm ruining their plans or something...

Wait... Is it possible that...

No... there is no way...

I need to calm down and follow tropes first.

I decided to make one last stop before heading to Gainesville. Orlando was a bit out of my way, but I needed to check in with Sydney one more time.

I pulled up to her dorm and parked.

I dialed her number.

"What is it again?" she answered, sounding slightly annoyed.

"I'm at your dorm, I just need to ask you one last question."

There was a moment of silence before she sighed. "Fine. I'll be down."

I waited by the entrance, scanning the area to make sure everything was clear. Sydney got down shortly, with an impatient look on her face.

We walked a bit away, with only her bodyguards not too far but out of earshot.

As soon as we were alone, I looked deep into her eyes.

Sydney shifted uncomfortably. "What are you looking at?"

"Did you tell anyone about me coming from the future?" I asked seriously.

"Are you stupid?" Sydney's face turned to one of disbelief, and she almost laughed. "No, I haven't told anyone. Everyone would think I'm nuts."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Alright. I just needed to be sure."

"Whatever... Is that it?"

"Yes. You can go back. And be careful."

"Yea, yea."

With that, I turned and headed back to my car.

I was already on the road to Gainesville when I quickly turned my Porsche around, heading straight for Johnson Trading.

I parked in front of the building and stepped out, walking to the entrance. Inside, I breezed past the secretary, who greeted me with a polite "Mr. Somnus," but I barely registered her presence as I made my way to the elevator.

Up on the 12th floor, the secretary glanced up but said nothing, recognizing me without needing to be told.

There were three bodyguards in the main hall who gave me nods and allowed me to pass without a word.

I entered the trading floor.

Mark and the other traders were busy at their stations.

Mark looked up at me, standing in surprise.

I raised my hand, signaling him to stay put. "Continue working," I said. "I just need to use one of the stations for a minute."

Mark nodded and sat back down, though his eyes followed me curiously.

I quickly made my way to an empty trading station. I logged in and opened a browser.

I started by looking into Russian oligarchs, examining where they were keeping their money, what investments they were involved in. For the next 30 minutes, I combed through financial reports and news articles, but everything seemed very... normal.

I found no connections to any of my recent deals or investments—nothing stood out, except for a general interest among some of them in shorting military stocks on NASDAQ.

Fuck... what am I even looking for?

I tried searching for successful Russian investors and examined their investment portfolios.

Still, nothing seemed extraordinary.

Am I really just paranoid?

Then something clicked in my brain.

Someone has hacked into my Charles Schwab account... that should have been impossible.

And what about all those cybersecurity issues that the world has been having lately...

I started searching for renowned Russian security experts, programmers, or hackers. Individuals known for their genius-level capabilities in cybersecurity.

I sifted through countless profiles and achievements.

After a while, I found a few names mentioned in articles about cybersecurity experts.

One name, in particular, stood out—however, it wasn't the name of a person.

It was an organisation.

An organization that supposedly infiltrated high-profile systems.

They didn't have an official name; they operated illegally and were only known through the dark web.

The articles I found referred to them simply as "Zero.". This was a nickname given because of their astonishing capability to discover and sell an unprecedented number of Day-Zero vulnerabilities in software.

The money they earned was rumored to be traceable back to Russia. But it was said that the Russian government and oligarch families were protecting them, not letting any information about their activities or members slip.

I was already suspicious as fuck, because I have heard about anything like this in my previous life, and obviously the cyberattacks around the world were something that did not happen previously either...

But then, as I browsed through articles, going through things that the Russian programmers have been working on, I found this:

"Bitcoin Whitepaper."