Regression - Second Chance At Life Chapter 4: Hidden Money

Primarily, landing a job is crucial to prove to his father he's dead serious about making his own cash. By pulling in solid earnings, he'll demonstrate real diligence. This ought to boost his dad's faith in him, smoothing future chats about the will.

The sort of job on his radar shouldn't devour every waking hour, leaving space for other pursuits.

Four years remain before his father kicks the bucket. Until then, shelter and free meals are guaranteed. No reason to grind endlessly just for basics like a roof and full belly.

Earnings from his own efforts will pour into startups he knows will explode later, especially those online prostitution sites.

Any scraps left over will fuel his personal growth.

This skeletal strategy could shift with changing winds. For now, top priority is earning his father's trust over the inheritance.

Breakfast finished, he rises from his chair. "I'm heading out. Back before five," he announces and strides away.

His father stays glued to his tablet without glancing up, but Julia fixes her gaze on Adam, baffled by the young man's sudden behavioral overhaul.

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Alone in his room again, Adam mulls over his predicament. Dread gnaws at him—the fear of jolting awake into a mere hyper-real dream.

After reliving every moment up to now, regression is unbearable. Becoming that pathetic loser again? Never.

'Please, let this be reality,' he beseeches one final time, drawing a steadying breath to chill out.

His focus turns to the wardrobe. Something inside demands retrieval. He approaches and yanks open the deepest corner panel.

Adam sifts through forgotten jackets and hoodies, but they're not the target. Shoving clothes aside uncovers a concealed safe at the rear.

Password-protected. 'Rack your brain—what's the code?' he mutters, then inspiration strikes. He taps in his favorite female idol's birthday.

The safe door swings open, flooding him with embarrassment. Obsessed with a far-off woman clueless to his existence? Unthinkable.

That infatuation shattered when disaster struck, landing him on the streets.

'Truth be told, grown-up me wasn't much better,' he reflects, as his fixation on stunning women lingered awhile. It faded eventually, except for his stepmother—failures always pinned on her, etching her permanently in his thoughts.

Thoughts banished, he hauls out a black bag from the safe and lugs it to his bed.

Unzipping it, he spills years of hoarded cash. Roughly fifty thousand dollars.

From boyhood, his absent father showered him with guilt money. He blew it on luxuries ordinary kids could only dream of, reveling in the flaunt.

Even after lavish spending, surplus survived, stashed in his secret vault.

"Fifty thousand dollars... Imagine what I could've pulled off with this during eviction," he laments, flashbacks hitting of being booted out and denied home entry.

That stash stayed out of reach. Its fate unknown, but he's certain his stepmother sniffed it out and squandered it on designer bags, shoes, or whatever nonsense.

"Time to bank this," he mumbles—smart move to go digital for access anywhere.

This fifty grand is vital now, paternal funds permanently severed.

Scanning his room, Adam grabs his school backpack, dumps its junk, and stuffs it with bed-spread cash.

"All set," he declares, slinging the bag over his shoulder before exiting.

Hallway trek reveals Julia deep in talk with his father, but he pays it no mind and beelines for the garage.

Three cars fill the garage—one per family member. His prize: the black two-seater sports car, gifted by dad mere months after turning 18.

Past recollections stir deep regret—he barely drove it, hibernating in his room with games. Total introvert life.

That sleek car drew excessive attention toward him, including plenty of the positive variety, yet despite possessing such a ride, Adam squandered a chance with a stunning girl who was virtually flinging herself at him; his ultra-shy personality triggered intense anxiety, prompting him to speed away and leave her deserted on the roadside.

Ever since that day, Adam avoided driving his car altogether, fearing a repeat of that awkward encounter.

Observing that Adam never touched the car, his father handed it over to another individual.

Adam recalled the rage he felt toward his father for passing the car to someone else. 'I can't fault him for that,' Amon reflected. His father might be a jerk, but he despises throwing money away on unused assets that lose value over time.

Noticing his son ignored such a fine vehicle, he chose to gift it to someone who would truly cherish it.

Fortune smiles on him, as he has returned to an era before these events unfolded.

Gazing upon the car parked before him now, it truly is a handsome machine. His father possesses excellent taste, at least, he mused.

He climbs into the car, starts the engine, and pulls away from his home. Destination: his bank.