Ghost's Birth

Jennifer stood up and opened the door, seeing her father and two former colleagues standing outside her room. She asked in confusion, "Dad?"

"I'm going into business with some friends. Once this deal goes through, no matter which college you want to go to, tuition won't be a problem at all. By the way, did your acceptance letter arrive?" Jack asked. This was the first time in days he'd brought up the letter with his daughter.

Jennifer hesitated. "No, it hasn't come yet."

Jack's face visibly relaxed. "It will. When it does, the whole family will see you off to school, and we'll make a family trip out of it..." He paused mid-sentence, suddenly remembering that his wife had run off with someone else days ago. The family wasn't whole anymore. But a woman like that—good riddance. "Take your little brother and sister to a movie. Make sure to get them Coke and popcorn. Here's some money. I'll pick you up at the theater entrance after I'm done talking business. I need to use your computer now. Go on."

Jack shoved a few dozen dollars into Jennifer's hand and patted her shoulder. She nodded, then turned to call her siblings. With a large family, Jack's house was a two-story standalone, not some cheap apartment—otherwise, he wouldn't have been worrying about loans in the first place.

Watching the three siblings leave, Jack finally re-entered Jennifer's room, sat down at the computer, and used his index fingers to peck at the keyboard one key at a time. What he searched for was the official website of the New York Traffic Control Center.

Mo Fei observed everything through the camera. "Looks like they're not completely stupid—using the internet to gather intel, huh?"

Jack studied the traffic conditions around the bank on the official site, especially the traffic records. He grabbed paper and a pen, sketching and marking things down. But due to the angle, Mo Fei couldn't see what he was drawing. Before long, Jack called Roy and Jerry over. "Look at the traffic around the Bear Stearns Wall Street Branch. We should aim for Monday between 10 and 11 a.m. Traffic across New York is pretty good then—no major jams to worry about."

"Yeah, that way I can push the speed to the max and shake off the cops. We'll also need a place to switch cars and lose them for good," Jerry said.

Roy looked hesitant. "Jack, are we really going through with this?"

Jack turned to look at him, then faced the computer screen again, speaking slowly. "I don't want to either, but what choice do I have? Jennifer just said she didn't get the letter. But she's my daughter—I know her too well. She's clearly lying. Can I blame her?" Jack covered his face with his hands. As a man, the pillar of his family, he'd held this household together for over twenty years. Why did it have to fall apart now?

"Roy, are you just going to let your wife's illness go untreated?" Jerry chimed in impatiently. He'd never married—one mouth to feed, the whole world his family. The only reason he was in on this was his love for racing. Every spare dollar went to street racing, and he'd never had enough for a car of his own. After the factory shut down, he didn't look for work; instead, he spent his days with the illegal racing crowd.

Jerry was a bold man. This kind of thing didn't scare him. Worst case, he'd go to jail. He had no attachments anyway. With a big pile of cash, he could finally build himself a proper race car.

"Got it. Don't worry, Jack. I'm a man who'll risk everything for his family too." Roy gritted his teeth and made up his mind.

"Good. Let's keep planning..."

Mo Fei watched them and thought it over. The three had different temperaments, but two of them caught his interest—not for their skills, but for their attachments. Jack and Roy were clearly taking risks for their families, while Jerry was just reckless. He might be daring, but that didn't mean he'd fight to the death. The situation was starting to intrigue Mo Fei.

Men willing to risk everything for their families—once they snapped, they were terrifying. Usually timid, even foolish, but when pushed for their loved ones, the force they unleashed was horrifying.

And such men were easy to control. With family came weakness. Mo Fei felt no sympathy for their plight—things like this happened every day somewhere in the world. "I don't even have a heart. What use is sympathy?"

With that thought, Mo Fei decided to make contact. The three were still discussing the map on the screen when suddenly the monitor went pitch black. They all froze. None of them knew much about computers—they could barely use them.

"What's going on?" Jack panicked, staring at the screen, then slapped the monitor. The other two looked equally confused.

Then white text appeared on the black screen: "Good evening, everyone. I hear you have a plan to rob a bank. Care to share it with me?"

The three read the sentence, their faces turning pale. Jack shot to his feet and looked at his companions. "Did one of you talk?"

Roy shook his head frantically. "How could I? I wouldn't even dare dream of this, let alone talk about it!" Jack believed him and turned to Jerry.

"Don't look at me. I haven't said a word either. I might not care on the phone, but out there? No way."

Jack frowned deeply, turning back to the screen. This was his best shot, and now this had to happen. What was he supposed to do? But Mo Fei wasn't about to let them spiral into panic—he still needed these three. He sent another message.

"Don't bother suspecting them. I am all-powerful. Everything you do is under my surveillance. It's not hard to know what you've been up to. Out of all New York, I chose you three. You should feel honored. If you want to talk to me, type on the keyboard," Mo Fei added as a final reminder.

Jack hesitated, then sat back down. Again, he pecked at the keyboard with his index finger. "Who are you?"

Mo Fei wanted to answer, but who was he? He'd never really thought about it. Should he just give his name? That Chinese name didn't seem fitting. Claim to be a god? They'd think he was insane. Maybe...

After a few seconds of hesitation, Mo Fei replied: "You can call me Ghost."