On the way to the airport, a Valterra tried to cut me off. After overtaking, he kept blocking my way. Since I was running late and did not want trouble, I chose to tolerate it.

However, my tolerance only made him even more aggressive.

In less than a hundred meters, he cut me off five times. I could not take it anymore and decided to call the police.

But as I was reading his license plate to the officer, I snapped and slammed my foot on the gas. Blood rushed to my face when I realized that this Valterra was the birthday present my wife had asked me for just last week.

Bang!

My Nimgo crashed straight into the back of a Valterra.

A guy with sunglasses and a cigarette in his mouth jumped out, stormed over, and kicked my door. “You broke loser! See the emblem? It’s a Valterra! You’ve got guts crashing your trashy Nimgo into a Valterra!”

When I saw the person who got out of the car, my heart sank. Things were exactly as bad as I expected. I wound down the window and stared at him. I was looking for clues from his words and actions.

“Three million! Not a cent less, or you’ll pay dearly!” He raised three fingers and yelled into my window.

I resisted the urge to step out and slap him, deciding to wait and see instead. I needed to know exactly what was going on between him and my wife.

The accident quickly drew a crowd.

“This is going to be good. That Valterra probably costs millions. This Nimgo guy’s going to go broke paying for this.”

“That’s what happens when you act recklessly. If he had a little more patience, he would’ve avoided this whole mess. He’s going to go bankrupt now.”

Egged on by the crowd, the guy got even cockier. He kicked my door again and glared at me.

"You’re driving a piece of junk and you think you can block a Valterra instead of just letting me through? Now you’re hiding in your car like a coward? Too late!

“My wife just bought me this Valterra. It cost her three million dollars! Pay up immediately, or I’ll send you to jail!”

Wife?

I knew something was off. That lying cheater! I wondered how she would get herself out of this.

I slowly pushed open the door and turned my cold eyes to his arrogant face. “You’re the one who’ll be paying. I was driving straight; you changed lanes. The fault is yours. And about jail—you deliberately kicked my car twice. That’s intentional damage of another person’s property. That alone could land you behind bars.”

“I don’t know anything about the law, so don’t spout laws to me! All I know is I drive a Valterra, so you must move aside!

“Behind bars? I’m Jason Lodge. I’m above the law!”

I laughed coldly when I saw how oblivious he was.

Some bystanders assumed Jason was some rich kid, judging by how arrogant he sounded. They felt that he was worth cozying up to, so they began backing him up.

“This Nimgo driver has some nerve. He hit the Valterra, and yet, he demanded to be paid. The kid kicks his door a little, and he talks about putting the other person behind bars? He’s obviously trying to scare the young guy.”

“Don’t worry, kid. Take down my number. I’ll testify for you if needed!”

“Exactly! I’ve studied some law myself. Damage under five thousand isn’t criminal. You only scratched his trashy Nimgo. How could that possibly be five thousand?”

Encouraged, Jason slammed my hood and shouted, “Today, you’ll pay for my car and apologize, or you’re not leaving!”

I chuckled coldly and pointed at the approaching traffic cop. “Ask the cop who should be paying. As for apologizing, you better get that one ready for me later.”

“I’m going to beat your—”

Jason was enraged and wanted to pick a fight with me. As he rushed over, I kicked him straight to the ground.

He got up to try again, but a traffic cop rushed over and stopped him.

“Stop it, or I’m taking both of you with me to the station!”

“Officer, this broke loser hit my car and attacked me. Hurry up and arrest him!” Jason complained to the cop while pointing at me with one hand and gripping his waist with the other.

The cop ignored his nonsensical accusations and asked us both for the footage from our dashcams.

I pulled up the footage on my phone and showed it to the cop.

The officer watched carefully. After finishing, he turned sharply to Jason. “It’s clearly entirely your fault. How dare you shamelessly demand payment?

“You’d better settle compensation quickly with the owner of the vehicle, or we’ll charge you with reckless driving and take you into the station.”

“Do you cops even know how to judge the situation? Take a good look. I drive a Valterra, and my wife is someone important. You can’t afford to mess with—”

“I don’t care what car you drive or who your wife is. Our job is to enforce the law. This is your warning. If you keep refusing the penalty, we’ll take you straight to the station.”

Jason grumbled angrily at first, but after seeing the cop’s strict face, he no longer dared to go against the cop and opted to call for help.

I glanced at his phone screen and saw that the person he was dialing was indeed my wife, Amy Parker.

Though I could not hear their conversation, his playful tone, mischievous expression, and endearing nickname for the person on the other line told me they were not just solving the issue; they were flirting, too.

Jason hung up and looked spirited again after the call. He arrogantly pointed at his car. “Fine. I’ll pay you! What’s the big deal?

“I bought insurance worth three million for this Valterra—more than enough to cover your junk Nimgo. You won’t be shortchanged even a single cent, you broke loser!”

I sneered. That insurance would not come close to paying for my limited-edition Nimgo. Besides, his reckless driving was outside the coverage of the insurance.

Today, I was determined to force these cheating idiots to show their true colors.

The insurance agent soon arrived. He probably knew about cars, as he turned pale the moment he recognized my Nimgo.

After reading Jason’s accident report, he finally sighed with relief. “Sir, this accident was caused by your aggressive driving. It’s outside our coverage. Please handle compensation with the other party yourself. Thank you.”

Jason exploded the instant he heard that he had to pay himself and yelled at the agent, “What kind of worthless insurance is this? If you don’t pay out after an accident, aren’t you swindling the people who bought insurance?”

The agent did not bother arguing and left quickly.

“So, are you paying up or going to jail?” I calmly asked him.

Many in the crowd were the type to feel righteous. They quickly turned against him after learning the truth.

“You think driving a Valterra makes you special? Just because the other party didn’t move over to let you pass, you decided to block his path. Don’t act like you own the road!”

“You caused the accident yourself, and you expect insurance to pay? They’re not idiots!”

After failing to make it my fault and facing my compensation demand, Jason’s expression turned sour. The crowd’s mocking taunts made him fly into a rage.

He went and grabbed a baseball bat from his car. Then, he immediately started smashing my car with the bat. He shouted while smashing, “You want money from me? I’ll wreck your junk car into pieces right in front of you! Worst case scenario, I’ll buy you another!

“You dare ask me to pay? Next, I’ll smash your face!”

Watching him lose control was exactly what I had hoped for. I stepped back quietly and waited to see him embarrass himself further.

After tiring himself out, he threw five hundred thousand dollars onto my car. “Here, loser! five hundred thousand is more than enough to buy your trashy car. Take the extra as charity and get lost!”

I chuckled coldly. “This won’t even cover one of my headlights, let alone the whole car. Better get more money fast or prepare to rot in jail.”

When I said that, he scoffed and said, “You must be out of your mind. You’re getting so worked up about the money. You want to scam a rich dude, is that it?

“Everyone knows that old Nimgo of yours is worth maybe two hundred thousand or three hundred thousand dollars at best. I offered you five hundred thousand dollars, and you’re still not satisfied?

“Let me tell you something. This behavior is considered blackmail. I’m sure you know that’s illegal. Don’t think I don’t know the law.”

People who were standing around started to chime in. “Buddy, take what you can get. That car of yours is worth two hundred thousand or three hundred thousand dollars. If he’s willing to give you five hundred thousand dollars, just take it and move on. Don’t get greedy.”

“Yeah. Don’t end up getting nothing after all this. Plus, if he sues you for making false claims, you’ll lose big time.”

At this point, an appraisal manager from a Nimgo dealership approached us.

“Who said this Nimgo is only worth two or three hundred thousand? This is a top-tier luxury car worth tens of millions. Just the headlight alone costs more than several hundred thousand.”

Jason’s face went pale when he heard that, but he still kept his composure.

The crowd went quiet for a moment and then changed their tune.

“Oh, so he’s the real rich guy. He’s really keeping a low profile.”

“Yeah, the truly wealthy are always low-key. Unlike some kids who think they’re all that just because they’re driving a Valterra.”

“That’s right. Maybe that Valterra isn’t even his. And now, he’s wrecked someone’s million-dollar car. Good luck paying for it.”

The appraiser finished and reported to me, “Mr. Duke, your car’s been seriously damaged. Repairing it will cost almost as much as a new car, so it’s really not worth fixing.”

I nodded and looked at Jason. “Pay up. Ten million. Not a cent less.”

Jason’s cocky attitude had waned, but he still tried to argue. He said, “You’re just making stuff up. Did you hire someone to con me?

“You’re just trying to commit fraud. I’m going to report you!”

I pulled out the purchase invoice and showed it to him.

“Take a good look. Do you think I’m conning you?”

After he looked at the invoice, he seemed a little shaken, but his smug expression quickly returned.

He pulled out a black premium card and waved it in front of me.

“It’s ten million? What of it? I’ve got thirty million on this card. I’ll pay you.”

Someone in the crowd gasped. “Whoa! That’s a top-tier black card. Only billionaires can get one. This guy’s loaded too.”

“He’s so young and already worth a billion. That’s crazy.”

Everyone’s praises made him even more arrogant, and he started showing off his card.

But he had no idea that card was actually a secondary card I gave my wife. If I called the bank and asked them to freeze the card, it would be completely useless.

After I told the bank to freeze the card, I looked at him and said, “Stop showing off. You’re not fooling anyone. I bet there’s not even a hundred thousand on that card.”

He immediately snapped, “Give me your account number, and I’ll transfer the money. If I manage to do it, I’ll make you regret it.”

I gave him the number and let him try.

He tried several times, but the card was disabled.

The crowd started mocking him.

“Another fake rich kid. That black card is probably maxed out anyway.”

“He can’t even pay, but he still insists on putting on a show. If you can’t pay, just admit it.”