Chapter 69: I want us to have a ’nice’ relationship
As the seconds stretched into a full minute, the intense friction made Nat recall a striking truth: they were remarkably alike.
Their shared, fanatic love for accumulating wealth, their absolute lack of standard fear, and this maddening, unyielding stubbornness. She was a mirror reflecting his own worst, most competitive traits.
Suddenly, Nat burst into laughter again.
It was a loud, genuinely ecstatic sound that rattled the empty space. He laughed so long and so hard that his shoulders trembled violently, his head throwing back.
He hadn’t had this much raw fun in years. This tiny woman was making his blood boil with pure excitement.
Around the corners of the warehouse, his subordinates began to shift uneasily. They exchanged worried glances, cold sweat breaking out across their bodies and causing their palms to be clammy.
Just why was their boss laughing like a madman? And why was this captive doing something so incredibly dangerous? Did she genuinely have a death wish?
April remained perfectly still, watching Nat. She was more than confident that now that she had proved her multi-billion-dollar worth, Nat would not kill her. But as for whether he would actually bend to her wishes... that was something she would have to find out gradually.
"I really, really want to keep you in my pocket, little seer," Nat said, his voice dropping into a breathless chuckle as the wave of laughter finally began to die down, though it still bubbled heavily in his chest.
April’s eyes narrowed slightly, her mind immediately seizing on the phrase that had been repeated over and over. It made her wonder... Was it not his trouser pockets in the end?
"Mr. Collins," she called. "when you mention a ’pocket,’ what exactly do you imply by that?"
His lips curled into a manic, highly suggestive smirk. "Wanna see it?"
The look in his eye gave her an instant, terrifying flash of insight. April immediately raised her hand, shaking her head without a single second of hesitation. "No. I’ll have to decline."
It was highly probable that his ’pocket’ referred to a heavily fortified, deep-underground safehouse packed to the brim with his private arsenal and valuables.
If she made the critical mistake of letting him take her there, he might just lock her up permanently, subjecting her to absolute isolation until her mind broke and she changed her terms.
With the apocalypse approaching, isolation right now was the absolute worst-case scenario. She couldn’t afford to be trapped; she needed to be out in the world making massive amounts of money.
"Okay, if you say so," Nat shrugged, surprisingly relaxed as he ran a hand through his red hair.
He straightened up, dropping his hand from his waist, the suffocating pressure radiating off him finally shifting into something more manageable. "In any case, I do want us to have a pretty... nice relationship going forward, so I won’t force ya. Your terms?" He pointed a long finger at her, his grin widening. "I’ll honor them. I’ll be just like any other customer. As long as you’re helping me rake in obscene amounts of cash, it’s all worth it to me."
April tilted her head, her fingers subtly twitching against her sides. She looked at him with a calculating stillness.
"Then... are you saying you don’t want to hear anything else?" she asked, her voice dropping into a low, provocative whisper. "Not even a warning about a possible betrayal from your own men?"
The moment the word betrayal left her lips, Nat’s brow violently twitched. The easygoing, amused mask vanished instantly, replaced by something entirely crazy and dark that lit up deep within his eyes.
"Ah... that would be very convenient," he said, his voice turning incredibly gruff, filled with a strange, heavy texture that April could not quite figure out.
Then, a deep, rumbling chuckle began to vibrate under his breath, shaking his throat. His gaze turned incredibly dark, his massive shoulders trembling with a terrifying sort of anticipation.
Looking at him, April suddenly recalled how the survivors in the past life mentioned he killed humans like they were no different from zombies once they became his enemies.
And then she thought back to the system’s warning about his hidden truth. Nat Collins was a literal psychopath who did not possess normal human empathy or mercy.
To him, loyalty wasn’t a moral obligation; it was an asset. And those who crossed the line or attempted to betray his trust weren’t just obstacles—they were a prime source of entertainment.
He viewed hunting down traitors like a high-stakes sport, a violent game that made his jumbled, muted emotions surge with absolute thrill.
He was incredibly, brilliantly weird. And right now, she had just handed him the keys to his favorite game.
Well then, let’s hope betrayal doesn’t come often, April thought to herself, her expression remaining entirely impassive. I’d hate to spectate a brutal murder right in front of my eyes just because of one of my readings. It doesn’t concern me.
"First things first," April said, her voice cutting through his dark amusement like a razor blade. "The charges for my reading. It will be 140 million dollars."
The moment the astronomical number left her lips, even the subordinates in the shadows visibly flinched. Was this woman completely out of her mind? Charging a notorious, money-grubbing predator like Nat Collins that much money to his face?
Everyone in the underground knew how Nat operated. He was a man who hated losing a single cent; he didn’t spend money unless he absolutely, critically needed to.
But when he did choose to spend, he never held back—because he was always completely confident that he would get double the amount in return. To Nat, spending wasn’t an expense. It was an investment.
And right now, the investment was in the only legitimate seer this world had to offer.
"Alright," Nat said without a single shred of hesitation. He stuffed his hands deep into his trousers pockets, his towering frame relaxing slightly. "But first, let me do the math. Does this mean your reading was over seventy million? Since you stated earlier that your second reading would cost me double."
"That’s right," April said, crossing her arms over her chest, completely unbothered by his intense scrutiny. It was time to thoroughly milk her number three cash cow. "You should consider yourself lucky that I didn’t charge you a flat hundred million for each, considering I just saved you over a billion dollars worth of capital from that stock crash. Just take this as a temporary beginner’s discount price."
Nat began to laugh again, his shoulders trembling with a lighter, deeply amused rhythm. He pulled his smartphone out of his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it directly to her.
"Place your details here," he commanded smoothly.
Thankfully, April had memorized her bank account number. How could she not? To survive what was coming, she needed to be completely business-minded, ready to drop her financial details at any given second.
She swiftly tapped her information into the device and handed it back.
Nat took the phone, his thumb pressing down on the biometric scanner to authorize an immediate wire transfer.
"I just sent you the money," he said flatly.
April didn’t immediately pull her Titanium Pro out from her spatial dimension to verify the notification. She didn’t even need to. Nat had already turned his screen back toward her, revealing a verified, high-clearance interface showing a completed, successful wire transfer of exactly 200 million dollars.
