The BMW R18 Transcontinental rumbled to a stop on the gravel driveway of the old farmhouse. Mark killed the engine and dismounted, taking in the property. Worn paint, sagging porch, land stretching out behind it that looked worthless to anyone who didn't know better.
This was it. The Mayvel land. His ticket to raising $400,000 in less than forty-eight hours.
The seed was already planted in Alex's mind from Mr. Chen's classroom speech. Now Mark just needed to water it and watch it grow fast enough to save him.
"Mr. Lidorf?" An old man stepped out onto the porch, squinting at Mark like he'd made a mistake. Not the person he'd expected when they'd spoken on the phone two hours ago.
"Yeah, I'm the one. Mr. Harper?" Mark walked closer, pulling off his riding gloves.
"Didn't expect you to be this young," Harper admitted, studying Mark with obvious skepticism. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened. "Thought maybe you are in your late twenties."
"Yeah, and I didn't expect you to be this old," Mark shot back with a grin.
Harper barked out a laugh, surprised. "Smart mouth on you. Come on in, then. My lawyer's waiting."
The old man led him inside where papers were already spread across a dining room table that had seen better decades. A thin man in a cheap suit sat reviewing documents with the tired expression of someone who'd done this too many times for not enough money.
Mark wanted this deal done fast, even if it meant leaving himself completely broke. Everything depended on the flip working. On Alex taking the bait. On timing that had to be perfect.
"Can I sit?" Mark asked, gesturing to the empty chair.
"Please," Harper replied, still watching Mark like he was trying to figure out the trick. How a kid this young had six hundred thousand dollars to throw around.
"You're sure you're buying this land at six hundred thousand?" The lawyer's voice carried heavy doubt now that he'd seen Mark's age. "This is a substantial transaction for someone so—"
"Young?" Mark pulled out his phone, already opening his banking app connected to the system card. "Check your account, Mr. Harper."
The old man's phone buzzed almost immediately. He picked it up, eyes widening as he read the notification.
$575,000 deposited. Sender: M. Lidorf.
Harper showed the phone to his lawyer, who blinked rapidly, recalculating his assumptions about this teenager in the expensive leather jacket.
"I have the balance in cash," Mark said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a thick envelope. He'd withdrawn every penny from Alexa's debit card and combined it with the remaining house sale money. "Five thousand here, and forty thousand more in my bike's storage compartment."
The lawyer's skepticism evaporated. Money talked louder than age. "Please, read through these documents carefully before signing."
Mark read quickly through the stack of papers. Transfer of deed, mineral rights, easements, liability waivers. Standard property sale documents, nothing complicated. This was a fraction of the complexity compared to the deals Hugo used to sign, the billion-dollar mergers and hostile takeovers that had required teams of lawyers and weeks of negotiation.
He signed where indicated, initials here, full signature there, dated everything. Five minutes, start to finish.
"Here's the forty-five thousand," Mark said, handing the thick envelope to the lawyer after retrieving the rest from his bike. "But I need you both to do me a favor."
"A favor?" Harper leaned forward, interested. He'd held firm on his property valuation for six months, refusing to budge, and it had finally paid off. What couldn't he do for the kid who'd proven him right?
"I'd like you to sell this property to someone else tomorrow. That's why I put in extra money beyond your asking price."
Silence dropped like a stone. The lawyer and Harper exchanged confused glances.
"You're kidding," Harper said slowly. "The property is legally yours now. We just signed the papers."
"No, it isn't," Mark said, looking directly at the lawyer. He knew this wasn't how property sales normally worked, but he also knew that everything was negotiable if you had the right leverage. "I've given you my money. Bought it at exactly the price you wanted. You're paid. Now I want you to sell it to someone else tomorrow and deposit my money after the sale goes through."
The old man and his lawyer stared at Mark with a mixture of confusion and dawning respect. The confidence in this kid's voice meant there was no way they could play games with his money. He knew something they didn't.
"I need to understand something," Harper said carefully. "What exactly is going on here?"
"Business," the lawyer replied before Mark could answer, understanding suddenly clicking into place. "You've got a buyer lined up already, don't you? Someone willing to pay more."
"One million," Mark confirmed.
"You're kidding me," Harper breathed.
"I'm not." Mark stood, tucking the signed documents into his jacket. "Tomorrow, someone will contact you about buying this land. Sell it to them for one million, deposit the money into my account."
He headed for the door, boots echoing on the old hardwood floors. Behind him, he could hear Harper and the lawyer talking in rapid, excited whispers.
Mark mounted his bike and sat there for a moment before starting the engine. His phone showed his account balances. System card: $0. Regular account: $0. Alexa's card: $0.
Completely broke. Poorer than he'd been since waking up in this body. Everything bet on Alex Sentara taking the bait and moving fast enough.
But that was the game, wasn't it? Risk everything to gain everything.
The system notification appeared.
[TASK FOUR: Progress 35%]
[CURRENT BALANCE: $0.00]
[RISK LEVEL: EXTREME | Time Remaining 40:12:37]
A few hours to convince Alex to buy overpriced land. A few hours before Harper and his lawyer started wondering if they'd been conned by a teenager with a nice bike. No pressure at all.
Mark started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, gravel crunching under his tires. He needed to get back to the city.
But first, he had one more problem to solve: the Viw Auction invitation.
The auction was invitation-only, restricted to pre-approved buyers with verified net worth and established reputations. You couldn't just show up with a million dollars and expect to get in the door. You needed connections. You needed someone to vouch for you.
And Mark knew exactly who could do that, even if it meant swallowing his pride and making a deal he'd been trying to avoid.