yboard, which was illuminated by the green pulse of his system threads in his vision. Each thread is connected to a point in the stock market-a company, a price, an opportunity. Each one whisp

smiled "Silverstone Corp. Any idea how that went down?" Johnny shrugged and slid the phone into his pocket. "Not a clue. Probably mismanagement." "Interesting," Jake said with his arms crossed. "They were just fine until last night. Their stock goes down, and suddenly, bankruptcy is announced. Almost like someone knew it was coming." Johnny emphatically raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you accusing me of something?" "I'm just asking questions." Jake craned his neck to scrutinize him. "You always had a knack for landing on your feet, Johnny. Even after all that with Marcus." The name Marcus made his jaw set hard. "That's not relevant, Jake. I've been keeping to myself." "Sure," he said with enough doubt that it nearly dripped from his voice. "Whatever you say." He turned to the barrister "One coffee please." And then turned back to Johnny after he got his drink "Well, enjoy your day, guess we'll talk again soon." Jake turned away, but he threw Johnny one last glance from over his shoulder. Exhaling slowly, Johnny tightened his grip on the cup. --- Later that night, he sat in his penthouse, a world removed from the miserable unit he had barely left a few days ago. Before him lay the expansive night view of New Veritas, lit up like an ocean of fireflies. He poured himself some whiskey and watched it swirl in its glass before taking a seat. The laptop lay abandoned on the coffee table, the numbers on the screen still scrolling upward. "Seven million," he said, sipping. "Unbelievable." "You've just started to scratch the surface," piped the system. Johnny chuckled. "You have a point. I can do anything with this thing." "Anything," the system concurred. "Just remember, every gain comes at a cost." Johnny grimaced, ready to respond, but was interrupted by a buzz from his phone. He picked it up and stared at an unrecognized number. "Hello?" "Mr. Lance," a woman's voice quivered slightly on the line. "This is Rosa Martinez. I-I need to talk to you." "Who?" "Rosa Martinez," she said again, her tone cracking with emotion. "You don't know me, but...you destroyed my life." His stomach turned. "I don't know what you're talking about." "You made millions off Silverstone's collapse, didn't you?" Rosa's voice grew sharper, more desperate. "You ruined that company, and now people like me are paying the price!" Johnny was standing there, pacing in the room. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but you have the wrong guy. I don't have anything to do with Silverstone." "Don't lie to me!" she cried. "I had my life savings in that company! Everything I had gone! I can't pay rent, and I can't feed my kids, and it's all because of you!" He stopped in his stride and tightened his grip on the phone. "...I didn't force you to invest in anything," he said with icy coldness. "That's not my problem." By then, Rosa's sob sto