“What's happening?” I gasped, a surge of shock coursing through me. Yet, with a sense of urgency, I began starting my car, readying it to move out. Celeste, with her distinctively childish face, yelled in a high-pitched tone, “They want to collect everyone and sing a song for us! We must go now!” Through the window, I could see people starting to rush out from the door, their faces etched with a mix of excitement and haste.“You are totally right, we need to run now!” I agreed, my voice laced with a newfound determination. I skillfully maneuvered the car out of the parking lot and onto the road, even as people yelled at us, their voices fading into the cacophony of the bustling street.Celeste was laughing hard, her laughter ringing like bells in the confined space of the car. It was a sound filled with innocence and glee, untouched by the worries of the world. Then, a screen appeared in front of me.[You are participating in preserving an orphanage for a better future. They will find

Inside the car, driving back to the rehabilitation center, I was thinking that even in my past life, I never used money this extravagantly, giving tips of $300. It would truly cause a significant financial strain and heartache.In the past, I learned from my mentor, "Rich people never buy what they want; they only buy what they need, because desires are limitless, but needs are limited." I faithfully followed this motto, which made me frugal and limited my indulgences.However, in my later years, I met another extremely wealthy individual who told me, "You can spend as much money as you want; it's part of life to find happiness, but you need to ensure you earn more than you spend. Work smart."In simple terms, It's not the act of spending money that's the problem; it's the speed at which you accumulate it that matters. That became my latest motto.I reached the rehabilitation center and walked to Victoria's room, passing through the garden. If there's one thing that remains consistent

"I'll start working with you tomorrow," the text from Rachel read.After sending her my address, I set my phone aside and gazed at Celeste, who was sleeping peacefully beside me. She possessed a lovely face, but she appeared excessively thin for her age. Perhaps she wasn't getting the right nutrition. I had to ensure that I took the best care of her going forward.As for Victoria, I inquired with a staff member, and it was confirmed that she was battling cancer. However, no one knew the extent of her remaining time, and the team was putting in their utmost effort to support her due to the complexity of her situation.I learned from a more senior staff member that Victoria used to be a model when she was young but had fallen victim to drugs and lost everything. It was no surprise that Celeste was also stunning.Lying beside Celeste, I drifted into a restful sleep, preparing for the busy day ahead.***The tranquility of the early morning was shattered by the sound of loud banging at th

"Boss," Rachel called out."You can just call me Alex," I responded."I still favor addressing you as 'boss,'" Rachel responded, her cheeks turning a vivid shade of red. Her gaze briefly averted, as though she were wrestling with the significance of the term. "It gives me the sense that I'm genuinely engaged in my work.""Well, suit yourself," I said with a shrug. "What's the problem?""Your car," she hesitated, her eyes darting to the Ford. "I think it's too big for me. Do you have something smaller?"My Ford, a true embodiment of masculine design with its robust body, had always been a source of pride for me. Driving it was like commanding a ship on an asphalt sea. And when I walked out from the car, people would see me as a young successful guy, which raised my popularity a bit. But I understood that for Rachel, something more compact, smaller, sleeker, and manageable would be preferable, especially if she was to be entrusted with taking care of Celeste."Well, you're right. Since

The pretty girl cast a fleeting glance at my superbike, her eyes tracing its sleek lines with a mix of curiosity and awe. She turned to me, her gaze inquisitive, and asked, “Do you rich?”“Kind of,” I replied, the corner of my mouth lifting in a half-smile.“Give me $200, no $300,” she boldly requested, her voice carrying a hint of daring.She was like a red flag of impatience, her eyes glinting with a mix of hope and skepticism. I reached into my wallet, the leather creaking slightly under my fingers, and pulled out three crisp $100 bills. Handing them over, I watched her expression transform.“Wow, thank you,” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she looked at me. “Now I am good.”[You get 3,000 positive karma.]Satisfied, I nodded, “Alright,” and revved up my superbike, the engine's roar cutting through the air. I sped away, leaving her behind, but not far down the road, I encountered the long-haired girl walking home, each step laden with weariness. She was the girl contemplatin