Chapter 3 A Scam

“Mr. Lopez, I'm really curious. Why did he massacre that royal building back then, causing such an enormous disaster?” Whitney asked, intrigued. Marcel seemed to know something. He sighed and said, “For a woman. A woman who abandoned him without hesitation after his downfall. She ignored him entirely and chose to protect herself...” Since ancient times, beautiful women have been the source of countless woes. It was hateful, infuriating, and lamentable! Time flew by. Half a month after Lucius regained his freedom, he was in Hepham. The summer sun was blazing, its scorching rays roasting the earth like fireballs in the sweltering months of July and August. The heat was so oppressive that you could almost see steam rising if you relieved yourself on the ground. Yet, no matter how hot it was, it didn't stop the relentless pace of pedestrians working hard to make a living on the bustling streets. On a mid-afternoon street, a young man wearing a thin, sweat-soaked undershirt and an old pair of canvas shoes pedaled leisurely on a rickety tricycle. A bell was tied to the handlebar of the tricycle, and the cargo bed was piled with random cardboard and scraps. On the side of the tricycle, a large, shoddily-made sign was posted. The words “Scrap Collection” were scrawled in a crooked, barely legible script. As Lucius himself would describe it, it was a masterpiece of “wild cursive,” a live example of art. Below those large characters was a line of squiggly small print resembling earthworms: “All-rounder handyman. On-site services are available. Hotline: xxxxxxx.” This undeniably made for an eye-catching scene in the prosperous city. Of course, most of the glances he received were disdainful and dismissive. It was hard to imagine why a tall, young, decently handsome guy in the prime of his life would choose such a lifestyle. To put it nicely, it could be seen as hard work and perseverance. Bluntly, it looked like a complete surrender to mediocrity, devoid of any ambition. Having spent half a month in this line of work, Lucius had long stopped caring about others' opinions. He was, after all, someone who lived on his own terms, finding amusement in life's varied dramas. After a battle of wits and verbal sparring, Lucius successfully acquired a bundle of waste paper from a middle-aged woman at a meager price—thanks to his usual trick of undercutting weights. Just as he was about to gleefully load it onto his tricycle, a sudden commotion occurred on a nearby street. A red BMW 5 Series abruptly stopped in the middle of the road. In front of the car lay a man, around thirty years old, with shifty eyes and a cunning look. Someone's been hit! That was the first thought on everyone's mind. Quickly, a crowd of onlookers who loved a bit of drama gathered around the scene of the accident. The BMW's door opened, revealing first a pair of white crystal-strap high-heeled sandals. Then came a pair of smooth, slender legs, wrapped in ultra-sheer nude stockings that seemed to glow under the sunlight. The sight was captivating. Soon, a woman stepped out of the car, coming into full view. The driver was a young woman in her mid-twenties, dressed in a red dress. She had bright, captivating eyes and perfect features, her beauty further enhanced by a curvaceous, alluring figure. Her appearance could make a common man drool and a rich, handsome man stare unabashedly. Adding to her allure was her wavy, wine-red hair that cascaded down her shoulders. This stunning woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, exuded a mature charm that was akin to a perfectly ripened peach. Under the blazing summer sun, seeing such a stunning sight could make anyone's throat go dry and testosterone levels spike. Another nine-out-of-ten beauty, Lucius concluded to himself. His standards were notoriously high, and few women ever earned such a rating. Yet in just one month, he had encountered two. The first was Whitney, whom he'd seen at Zynthera Prison half a month ago. The second was this woman now caught in trouble. “Ow, it hurts so much! You hit me! My leg is broken!” the man lying in front of the BMW wailed dramatically. As he spotted the woman step out of the car, his cries grew even louder. Leaning against his tricycle, Lucius lazily lit a cigarette and shook his head. “His acting is too over the top. Not convincing enough,” he muttered. It was obvious to Lucius that this was a scam, but he had no intention of playing the hero to save the damsel in distress. He wasn't that bored. His gaze naturally drifted back to the woman. Her ample chest and perfectly rounded hips earned her a second look. “Big boobs, round butt—either a mistress or a lover,” Lucius concluded with satisfaction at his astute observation. Not everyone had Lucius's sharp eye. The beautiful woman, unaccustomed to such situations, was visibly flustered. Even though she knew the man had deliberately thrown himself in front of her car, she didn't know how to handle it. “Sir, are you okay? Where are you hurt? Let me take you to the hospital,” the woman said anxiously.