The three-year-old child was still fighting for his life, while his own mother stood there faking illness and trying to extort money.

A woman who showed such disregard for her child's life didn't deserve to be a mother.

The stocky police officer raised his body camera and pointed it at me.

"Come with us. You'll need to give a statement at the station."

Layla immediately jumped up from the ground. "He can't leave! If he runs, who's going to pay for my car?"

She latched onto my waistband.

"You owe me 500 thousand dollars! If it's even a cent less, you're not getting out of this hospital today!"

I looked down at her distorted face.

"Are you sure you want me to pay?"

She snapped, "Of course! If you break something, you're responsible for paying for it!"

I nodded slowly.

"Fine. Let's wait until the police figure things out. I hope you can still act this arrogantly then."

…

Half an hour earlier, the sun bore down mercilessly on the asphalt.

While riding my electric bike past a commercial street parking lot, I noticed a black Porsche Cayenne. The windows were tightly shut, but there seemed to be a small figure in the back seat.

I brought the bike to a stop and moved closer to the car.

A three-year-old boy was strapped into a child seat inside the car. Sweat poured down his face, and his skin had taken on a bluish-purple tint. White foam spilled from his mouth. He was weakly pounding on the car window.

I grabbed the door handle. It was locked.

"Is anyone there? Whose car is this?" I shouted.

There was no one else around.

Inside the car, the child's eyes were rolling back. His movements were getting weaker by the second. If this dragged on any longer, he would die.

Without hesitation, I took the U-shaped lock off my electric bike. I aimed it at the edge of the rear window and smashed it down hard.

The glass shattered, falling onto the ground. A wave of scorching heat rushed out, mixed with the sour stench of vomit.

I reached inside and unlocked the door. Then, I unbuckled the seatbelt and pulled the child out. His body was burning hot, and he had already lost consciousness.

I immediately laid him in the shade and started CPR. After two minutes of compressions and rescue breaths, he coughed up mucus and let out a faint cry.

Just as I finally let out a breath of relief and reached for my phone to call an ambulance, a woman in high heels carrying several shopping bags rushed over. It was Layla.

She didn't spare the child on the ground a single look. She rushed straight to the Porsche, and the moment she saw the shattered window, she let out a piercing scream.

"My car!"

Then she turned sharply and stormed toward me.

A sharp slap landed across my face.

My head jerked to the side, and my cheek flared with pain.

"You poor loser! How dare you smash my car?"

She raised one of her shopping bags and slammed it against my helmet.

A second blow came right after.

"Do you have any idea how much that window costs? You'll never earn enough to pay it off even if you deliver food your entire life!"

I grabbed her wrist and pushed her away.

"Are you blind? Your son was dying!"

Layla stumbled, then finally looked down at the child on the ground. Panic flashed across her eyes for a split second, but it was quickly replaced by anger.

"My son was sleeping peacefully! Why are you sticking your nose into this? You're just trying to steal my bag from the car!"

…

Back in the hospital corridor, the stocky officer spoke into his radio. "Get the CCTV footage from the commercial street parking lot."

Layla sneered and crossed her arms.

"Go ahead. That corner doesn't even have a camera. It's a blind spot. I checked when I parked!"

The officer's expression darkened. "So you deliberately parked in a blind spot?"

Layla lifted her chin defiantly.

"I parked in a corner so my car wouldn't get scratched. What's wrong with that? But him? He deliberately picked a CCTV blind spot just to smash cars. He's clearly a repeat offender!"

She jabbed a finger toward my nose. Her spittle sprayed across my face as she screamed, "You broke loser, you're going to spend ten years in jail! Pay me 500 thousand dollars now, not a cent less!"

I wiped the saliva off my face.

"You left your child in a car that was over 140°F just so you could get cosmetic procedures done, and now you're trying to cover it up by turning on me. Aren't you afraid you'll get what's coming to you?"

Layla's eyes widened in fury. She lunged at me, aiming for my face.

"How dare you curse me! I'll tear your mouth to pieces!"

I sidestepped, and she missed, crashing into the wall instead.

"Officer! You see? He's still trying to hit me!" Layla cried out, clutching her shoulder.

The surrounding crowd once again pointed fingers at me.

"This delivery guy is way too arrogant."

"There's no surveillance footage. This time, he's done for."

I stood still and said nothing.

No surveillance? That wasn't a problem for me.

I reached up and touched the small black rectangular device on my helmet. It was a miniature action camera I had installed specifically to guard against scam incidents. A faint red light was still blinking.

…

At the end of the corridor, the elevator doors chimed open.

A man in a tailored suit strode out. His hair was slicked back, and a gold Rolex sat on his wrist. Two burly bodyguards in black followed behind him.

The moment Layla saw him, her expression changed instantly. She rushed into his arms and complained, "Darling! You're finally here! This broke nobody smashed our car and even hit me!"

The man was Layla's husband, Lucas Davidson.

Lucas patted her back lightly, then strode toward me with a cold expression.

After sizing up my worn delivery uniform, he said, "You're the one who smashed my car?"

He didn't even ask a single question about the child's condition.

I met his gaze. "Yes, and you should be thankful I did. If I had arrived five minutes later, you'd be looking at your son's corpse instead."

Lucas' face darkened, and a flash of disdain crossed his eyes.

"Don't use my kid as an excuse. You broke my car, so you're paying for it. 500 thousand dollars, not a cent less. How are you going to pay? Sell a kidney or bleed yourself dry?" he said arrogantly, looking at me like I was nothing.

I let out a cold laugh.

"I saved your son's life, and now you're demanding money from me?"

Lucas glanced at his two bodyguards.

"Seems like he won't talk unless he's at death's door."

The bodyguards immediately stepped forward, cracking their knuckles as they formed a tight circle around me.

Before they could make a move, the stocky police officer stepped between us.

"What are you doing? This is a hospital. Are you trying to assault an officer?"

Lucas raised a hand casually, and the bodyguards stepped back.

"Officer, there's been a misunderstanding. I just want to settle the compensation peacefully."

He took out a business card and handed it over.

"I'm Lucas Davidson, CEO of Steelmark Construction. I hope this matter can be resolved quickly."

The officer didn't take it. He only stared at Lucas coldly.

At that moment, the walkie-talkie crackled to life.

"Officer Smith, the traffic police have confirmed it. The streetlights were under maintenance, and the cameras were powered off. There's no footage."

Layla immediately broke free from Lucas' arms. Joy lit up her face as she exclaimed, "You heard that? There's no surveillance at all!"

She pointed at me and said sharply, "He's a thief! He tried to steal and smashed the car, and now he's making up some story about saving my child! Officer, arrest him immediately!"

The surrounding crowd immediately chimed in.

"It seems he's just a thief. He actually sounded pretty convincing."

"I almost fell for his lies. People like him belong behind bars."

Lucas straightened his tie and looked down at me with cold arrogance.

"Kid, if you don't have evidence, then stop making accusations. Come up with 500 thousand within three days. If you fail to do that, I will make sure you won't be able to stay in this city."

I was surrounded by a crowd, unable to defend myself. Money spoke louder than truth, and there were no cameras to back me up.

In their eyes, I was already finished.

I stared at Lucas's hypocritical face and Layla's smug smile. Rage churned violently in my chest.

Layla pulled the latest smartphone out of her bag and opened Instagram. She went live and quickly captioned it, "Delivery Guy Smashes Porsche Out of Jealousy."

Within seconds, thousands of people flooded into the stream.

She adjusted her hair and squeezed out a few tears on camera.

"Guys, can you believe this? I honestly have the worst luck today. I parked my car by the roadside as normal, and this delivery guy saw my Porsche, got jealous, and smashed my window to pieces!"

She shared some photos on the live stream, showing the viewers the shattered window.

"Look at this. This is a two-million-dollar car! He even tried to steal my Hermès bag from inside. When I caught him, he assaulted me!"

Then she turned the camera toward me, pointing at my worn delivery uniform.

"It's him. He's the kind of person who belongs at the very bottom of society."

The comments exploded instantly.

"Damn, these jealous freaks are terrifying!"

"Lock him up and make him pay for what he did!"

"Stay strong! Don't let people like this win!"

Lucas stepped into frame at the perfect moment and draped an arm around Layla's shoulders. Facing the camera, he adopted a grave, righteous expression.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Layla's husband. We will not tolerate this kind of violence. We'll pursue this matter to the very end and ensure justice is served. We won't give in to this kind of evil."

The chat exploded with praise.

"He's such a protective husband. That's so cool!"

"That's what a real man looks like!"

I watched their pathetic performance with a cold gaze.

"Are you sure you want to blow this up?" I asked.

Layla let out a mocking laugh.

"Blow this up? I want the whole country to see your disgusting face. I'll completely ruin your reputation."

Just then, my phone vibrated violently. It was the manager.

The second I picked up, his angry voice exploded through the phone, almost deafening me.

"Phineas Kensington! Look at the trouble you've caused! The entire internet is talking about you smashing that Porsche. Our support lines are completely flooded! Because of you, the whole company is getting fined! You're fired! You're not getting paid a single cent this month. Get lost!"

The line went dead.

I lowered my phone and took a deep breath.

My job was gone. My pay was gone. Not only were they forcing me to compensate them, but they were also stripping away my livelihood entirely.

When Layla heard my manager's words, she burst into laughter and nearly doubled over.

"Serves you right. Trash like you should starve on the streets!"

I reached up and touched the small hidden camera on my helmet. It had captured everything, from the moment I found the child to the moment I broke the window to save him and even Layla attacking me.

I had originally meant to take the footage to the police, but I no longer planned to do so.

Since they enjoyed manipulating public opinion and distorting the truth, I would let them rise as high as they wanted before pulling them down.

As I looked at Layla and Lucas, a cold smile spread across my face.

"Alright, let's play this out slowly."