BARAC'S POV:
"Farewell, Barac Fyodor."
Her voice was the last thing I heard before I passed out.
I, Barac Fyodor, once the heir to a mighty family, brought to ruin and played by the woman I loved.
Before fading completely, the memory struck like lightning — Agnes Kushner... my ex-wife.
Was this the punishment for what I did to her?
Tears rolled down my cheeks. To think I'd forsaken her for this bitch.
How—
"Barac!" A voice thundered, interrupting me.
"Barac Fyodor, you fucking dimwit!"
I opened my eyes slowly, holding my head as pain coursed through it.
What happened?
Did I survive?
"You stupid bastard!" she yelled, grabbing my shirt and pulling me up.
"El..." I paused, surprised to see her.
"Elena?"
How? I stared at her as she glared at me.
"You're... dead," I muttered, reaching for her hand. "Is this the after—"
"It's rude to wish your sister death, Barac."
My stomach twisted as I heard his voice.
"F–Father?" I turned to him slowly.
"You punk." He walked closer.
"What in light were you thinking?"
I stared at him quietly as he walked to where I was.
"Do you want your old man to die of a heart attack?"
A soft laugh slipped from my breath.
"You're already dead. There's no dying twice—"
"All these talks about death," Elena shouted, punching my stomach.
"Shouldn't you be giving us an explanation?"
"I..." I paused, wrapping my hands around my stomach. That pain... it felt too real to be a dream.
I looked at them and scanned the room. They looked younger than the last time I'd seen them. Wait...
"What... what happened?" I stuttered, asking Elena.
"You..." She growled, raising her hand to strike but stopped.
"Did they hit your head too hard?"
"W–Who?" I asked, confused.
"I'll call the doctor," Father said after a few seconds of silence and turned to walk away.
"I can't believe you dared to meet those people for a loan since Father refused you," she said in a soft tone, turning her face away.
Loan? I looked at her.
Did she just...
"Terre merchants?" I muttered.
She looked at me immediately.
"It seems your brain hasn't completely failed."
I stared at her for a while and looked at the mirror in the corner of the room.
"Wait." She reached out for me as I struggled to stand up.
"You shouldn't be moving now."
She withdrew her hand as I smiled at her and stood up. I walked to the mirror.
Damn. My eyes widened.
So... I'd really...
"What's today's date?" I turned to her.
"Fifteenth of May," she replied.
"Year?"
"Twenty Twenty-eighth. Why are you asking these all of a sudden?"
My heartbeat paced faster. I swallowed hard and looked at the mirror again.
A second chance?
Wait. The fifteenth of May, Twenty twenty-eight? My heart skipped.
Wasn't that the day before...
"I don't know what's—" Father paused as he entered with the doctor, looking at me.
"You should be resting." His eyes trailed from me to Elena.
"You should've kept him—"
"I'm sorry, Father," I interrupted.
He looked at me in surprise.
"What's—"
"I'm sorry for everything." I stepped forward. I looked at Elena and smiled.
"I'm sorry too, Sister." I bowed slightly.
"I've been the worst brother," I paused and turned to Father,
"and son. I'm really sorry."
They looked at each other and stared at me for a few seconds.
"I guess we should be thankful he got the beating," Elena spoke with a dry laugh.
"Doctor," Father turned to the doctor,
"You should check him—"
"I'm fine," I interjected.
"It won't hurt to—"
"I'm alright, Father."
He exhaled and looked at Elena.
"Doctor Gillian will be at his quarters." He turned to me with a smile.
"And," he paused, staying silent for a second,
"you're my son." He nodded.
"You'll always be."
"A troublesome son," Elena scoffed, standing up.
"Get some rest, Barac." Father waved as he walked off.
"I wish you'd genuinely be like this," Elena muttered, shaking her head as she left the room.
I looked at the mirror again and exhaled.
I'd really returned fifteen years into the past.
Right. My heart skipped.
I should be doing that.
I rushed to my little workspace and sat down. At this point in time, I'd developed an obsession with trading and cryptocurrency.
Twenty-four and still under my father's roof, losing whatever money I got.
That was going to change today.
In the future, just a day later—the sixteenth day of May—Bitcoin's founder decided to sell all his coins, crashing the market.
For a coin that was already being used as a global legal tender, that did so much damage to economies and made billions of people lose their properties.
"Bingo." I tapped the table as I successfully logged into my father's Bitcoin wallet. It held all our family's assets.
Two hundred million dollars.
"That miser wouldn't even give me a hundred thousand when I asked," I scoffed.
I'd only found out that we had this much when we lost everything.
I exhaled as my hand hovered over the keyboard.
What if it doesn't go accordingly?
I looked at the price of Bitcoin on the screen — over three hundred thousand dollars. I gulped as I looked at the amount we had.
"There's no need to hesitate now." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
While people got poor immediately from this stunt, others benefited when he bought everything and more back after a week and pushed the price back up, exceeding three million in just two months.
"Sakamoto, you bastard." I growled, hitting the enter button to swap all the Bitcoin held to dollars.
My heart thumped faster as I watched it process.
"I should make this a surprise." I exhaled. I transferred ten million dollars to my bank account and changed the password of the wallet.
Father decided to sell all the coins he had when it happened in the future. All he could salvage was a million dollars — not enough to sustain us.
"It'll be different this time."
I looked at my phone as the alert came in.
"I'll take Father's attention away from the account with this."
I scanned the room and exhaled.
That wasn't the only thing that happened on the sixteenth.
"Agnes Kushner." I closed my eyes.
Was I looking forward to that encounter again?