My Manor

Jiang Hai couldn't recall how he had fallen asleep that night. When he woke up the next morning, he was already ready to head back to Boston. With that stack of papers in his possession, he just couldn't bring himself to relax and enjoy the time here.

After getting up, Jiang Hai said a few words to Aphra and the girls, and they all began packing up together.

He was reluctant to leave behind his yacht, which had cost more than $5 million, so initially, he planned to sail it all the way back to Boston along the U.S. East Coast. Preliminary estimates showed that even without stepping off the boat, it would take about a week. However, Jiang Hai had a growing concern. A yacht worth $5 million could be towed to Boston in about ten days, but the stack of papers in his hands was worth at least $400 million—more, probably. This was a treasure, not something to risk losing over a yacht.

He didn't want to lose the watermelon in favor of picking up sesame seeds, so he quickly decided to fly back directly. The girls had heard his words last night and had nearly finished packing by the time morning came. They just double-checked everything before leaving with their phones, chargers, and other essentials. This trip to Miami had been very fruitful for everyone.

First, the ten girls had something to celebrate. After their time in Miami, they could finally speak openly with each other. Moreover, due to the life-and-death bond they'd shared, their connection with Jiang Hai had only deepened. Their initial admiration and gratitude had evolved into a stronger dependence, and even affection. Of course, Jiang Hai didn't fully realize this shift.

He knew, however, that besides the girls' newfound ability to speak freely, the most significant takeaway for them was the new clothes they'd bought. Although the staff at Jiang Hai's manor had started accepting the girls, their tastes in clothing weren't particularly refined. Miami, on the other hand, was a paradise for models, with endless shopping options. With the pocket money Jiang Hai had given them, plus the wages they had saved, they splurged. Though they couldn't afford luxury brands, they still bought plenty of new items.

When they arrived, each girl had just a small backpack, but now, they were leaving with rolling suitcases.

Moses Adams also gained from this trip, primarily through increased earnings. Whether it was hush money or a reward for services rendered, since arriving in Miami, Jiang Hai had paid Moses Adams nearly $2 million. It would have taken Moses years to earn that much otherwise. Grateful for Jiang Hai's generosity, Moses had pledged his loyalty and friendship in return.

As for Jiang Hai, he considered himself the biggest beneficiary of all. His wealth had doubled during his time in Miami, and he had secured the priceless $400 million in oil futures—an invaluable stepping stone to the upper class, even if Jiang Hai had no intention of using it for that purpose.

These futures were also a safeguard for him. As long as the U.S. government didn't consider it an act of treason, this document could protect him. In the U.S., the power lies with financial groups, and among them, none is more influential than Rockefeller. Despite their negative reputation, the financial prowess of this group was undeniable.

So, in Jiang Hai's eyes, he had really struck it rich this time.

After everything was packed, Jiang Hai went downstairs to take care of checkout and discuss transportation plans. Since Moses Adams was returning to Boston with them, they had already informed the car rental company to pick up their rental vehicle. As a result, they needed to take a hotel shuttle to the airport, which was no problem—the hotel was happy to accommodate.

Jiang Hai and his friends were staying in the presidential suite, so arranging a ride to the airport was part of the service. A luxury minibus was soon dispatched to take them to the airport. The group wasn't particularly pretentious, so they were fine with the minibus.

Once everything was in order, Jiang Hai sat by the lobby window, waiting for Aphra and the others, and watching the scene outside. Though he had been in Miami for a while, Jiang Hai couldn't help but feel an affection for the city. Of course, it would have been even better without its seedy underbelly.

Miami had a laid-back atmosphere, quite different from the hustle of Boston or New York. Jiang Hai found himself appreciating the slower pace of life here. It truly lived up to its reputation as a famous tourist destination. As he gazed outside, he mused, Why didn't I pick this place for the ranch? Of course, the ranches here weren't great, but the fisheries were top-notch. The tropical climate, warm year-round, was a welcome change from Winthrop, which, although not as harsh as the Ice City, could still freeze a person to their core.

At least the weather was something Jiang Hai liked, but it was too late for any changes now. His roots were firmly planted in Winthrop, and he had no plans to move anytime soon.

As he sat lost in thought, he suddenly spotted a man lying on the hotel lawn—a white man. Jiang Hai had noticed him the previous night, and it seemed he had been lying there all night. Back then, in the darkness and with his own concerns, Jiang Hai hadn't paid much attention. But now, in the daylight, the man looked vaguely familiar.

Curious, Jiang Hai walked outside to get a closer look.

When he approached, the man seemed to hear his footsteps and sat up immediately. But as soon as he did, he winced and clutched his ribs. His eyes darted around warily, but once he realized Jiang Hai posed no threat, he lay back down, though his eyes remained open.

"Hey, you're the boxer, right?" Jiang Hai asked, recognition slowly dawning on him.

The man didn't respond, just glancing at him briefly before returning to his position.

"Why are you here?" Jiang Hai asked. "It looks like your injuries haven't been treated. Did you lose the fight?"

Now that Jiang Hai was closer, he could see the state the man was in—his injuries were poorly treated. Bruises covered his body, and the wound on his head seemed to be infected, oozing pus. His ribs were swollen and purple. Clearly, the fractures hadn't healed properly.

Jiang Hai was puzzled. Underground boxing was usually a high-paying gig, so why was this guy in such bad shape?

"Connorson, I'm hungry..." the man muttered.

Jiang Hai frowned, noticing the man's speech was slightly slurred, a sign that he was unwell.

"Alright, I'll treat you to a meal. What do you want—steak? Buffet?" Jiang Hai asked, feeling a touch of sympathy for the man.

"Hamburger... pizza," the man said, shaking his head at the suggestion of steak, and pointed across the street to a place.

"Fine, let's go," Jiang Hai said, offering his help. He waved for the man to join him.

The big man looked at Jiang Hai but didn't seem particularly wary. He simply stood up, holding his ribs, and followed Jiang Hai across the street to the Burger King.

Jiang Hai couldn't help but be impressed as he walked beside the man. Standing at about 1.92 meters, Jiang Hai had always considered himself tall, but next to this guy, he felt small. This man was at least 2.1 meters tall, and despite his injury, he still towered over Jiang Hai.

Once they reached the fast-food chain, Jiang Hai let out a small chuckle. In the U.S., fast food chains like Burger King were far more ubiquitous than Chinese food outlets.

But, of course, that was to be expected. With beef and chicken priced similarly, who would choose anything else?