I Snatched the Hidden Tycoon

Ever since I was a kid, I could see the bank balance floating above people's heads. After I took a summer job at an electronics factory, this ability helped me dodge plenty of workplace scams and shady coworkers. But everything changed on a Friday afternoon when Hailey Marin, the factory beauty, slammed her phone down in front of me. "I thought my online date was a rich heir with sports cars," she complained, rolling her eyes. "Turns out, he's just a broke guy tightening screws in the next workshop. He keeps begging to meet up, and it's driving me crazy. Go meet him and pretend you're me." I looked at where she pointed. A young man in a faded uniform was squatting by the gate, trying to fix a peeling scooter. Nearby workers were openly mocking him. Hailey wrinkled her nose. "Letting a guy like that carry my purse in public would be an embarrassment." I didn't hear a word she said. My full attention was on the numbers hovering above his head. Tens. Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands... Hundreds of millions. I nearly choked on my boba. It was a staggering eight-figure balance. And the numbers were still ticking upward in real-time. I grabbed Hailey's arm. "Quick. Tell me every detail you two talked about online." She froze. "Are you crazy? You really want to meet that broke loser?" I nodded, looking at the hidden billionaire outside. "Yep." Chapter 1 Hailey Marin let out a cold laugh, then texted me the secret code phrase and identity details for her online relationship. She twirled her fake designer bag and walked away. I slipped my phone into my pocket, threw on my old jacket, and walked straight toward the gate. "Lucas Reed?" I stopped beside his beat-up scooter. The man looked up. He had sharp features, though a thick streak of engine oil across his forehead slightly masked his appearance. He sized me up. "Hailey Marin?" I smiled. "That's me." Lucas stood up, brushed the dirt off his hands, and pointed to the street across from the factory. "For our first meeting, let me treat you to a meal," he offered. "Don't mind if it's nothing fancy." He led me into a cheap diner and ordered two plates of basic pasta. They were $6 each, without a shred of meat. The plates had visible grease stains on the rims. If it had been Hailey, she probably would have flipped the table. I simply picked up my fork and dug into the pasta, which tasted strongly of cheap soy sauce. I looked up and flashed a smile. "It's good." As I ate, I kept my eyes on the digits floating above his head. Every time I looked up, I could see his massive balance. Even as I swallowed the last of the food, the number ticked upward by another few hundred dollars. After we finished eating, his old scooter completely broke down. The front panel latch snapped, the battery cables dangled out, and the key refused to turn. "Sorry, the scooter is acting up," he said, raising an eyebrow, but there wasn't a trace of regret in his tone. Without a word, I pulled a black insulating hairpin out of my hair, bent down, and pried open the broken panel. Not missing a beat, I jumped the ignition by bridging the positive and negative copper wires and used the hairpin to secure the loose latch. "Try the key now," I said, dusting off my hands. His eyes narrowed slightly. He twisted the key, and the engine roared back to life. "It should be good enough to get you back to the dorm," I noted. He glanced down at my oil-stained fingers and chuckled. "You're a little different from what I imagined." Just then, a camera shutter clicked in the distance. Hailey was standing across the street, holding up her phone to take a photo of me with dirty hands as I stood next to Lucas and his busted scooter. Within minutes, the factory group chat exploded. Hailey had posted the photo to her social media with a mocking caption: [Lol! Trash belongs with a loser. Enjoy riding that piece of junk forever.] The comments flooded in, with almost every worker joining in on the joke. I looked at my phone screen, simply closed the app, and headed straight back to the dorms. Just as I reached the building entrance, the roar of a high-end engine cut through the air. A brand-new Mercedes pulled up in front of the dorm gates. The door swung open, and a sharply dressed man stepped out, holding a massive bouquet of red roses. When he handed the flowers to Hailey, the surrounding female workers gasped in excitement and flocked around her, showering her with compliments. Then they turned their mocking eyes toward me in the corner. "Allow me to introduce my boyfriend, Zach Langston," Hailey started, lifting his chin. "He's the nephew of Supervisor Langston from the main office, a wealthy heir who just returned from studying abroad." I quietly looked up at the celebrated heir. There was no massive fortune floating above his head. Instead, there was a glaring, blood-red sequence of digits: [-$8,000,000]. Worse yet, that negative number kept ticking downward. He was sinking deeper into debt by the second. A cold smirk played at my lips as realization sank in: Hailey had willingly thrown away a mountain of gold to chase a black hole. Chapter 2 The next morning, the entrance to the workshop was buzzing. Zach had parked his rented Mercedes right out front, the trunk packed with premium cigars and other gifts. He handed them out to everyone in sight. "Wow, Mr. Langston is so generous!" "Hailey is so lucky to land a guy like that!" ... The entire factory shifted overnight. Even the few coworkers who used to talk to me now avoided me like the plague. Hailey sauntered up, pinching a $100 bill between two fingers. "Sorry, we ran out of gifts. But since you enjoyed that pasta so much yesterday, consider this a tip for a nice meal. "After all, your boyfriend probably can't even afford a cheap value meal at a burger joint." I didn't even look at the money; I just walked right past her to clock in. Her eyes narrowed, and she ran back to cuddle up to Zach. A few minutes later, before I could hit the assembly line, the plant supervisor stepped into my path. "Hailey isn't feeling well, so she's being moved to the air-conditioned quality inspection room," Patrick Langston said without even looking up from the cigarette dangling from his mouth. "You're switching with her. Report to the C-zone stamping and grinding workshop." The surrounding workers sneered at my situation. Zach came over, patting Patrick on the shoulder before giving me a smug look. "Broke bones need to be ground down in tough places. My uncle handpicked this spot just for you. If you can't handle it, quit." I quietly grabbed my toolbox and walked over to C-zone. The moment I pushed open the door, a wave of pungent dust and suffocating heat hit me. Ancient stamping machines roared; the exhaust fan was jammed on its track, screeching loudly. After setting down my toolbox, I put on a mask, grabbed a ladder, and climbed up to the rooftop exhaust unit. Prying off the casing, I found the issue: the pulley gear was clogged with metal shavings. "Loosen the belt one notch and use a screwdriver to wedge the tensioner's blind spot," a deep voice called out from below. It was Lucas standing at the base of the ladder in an electrician's uniform. He held up a long-reach flathead and a 12mm box wrench—the exact tools I needed. "Thanks." I took the tools and pried hard until the gear clicked back into place. Then I snapped the belt back on and flipped the power switch. The exhaust fan, dead for half a month, roared back to life. The dust cleared rapidly, and the temperature dropped. I hopped down from the ladder, taking the bottle of mineral water Lucas handed me. We stood side by side at the machine. He adjusted the base parameters while I oiled the molds. No words were necessary; every time I reached out, he placed the exact tool I needed right into my hand. The workshop door swung open. Zach walked in with his arm around Hailey, flanked by a few security guards. His face darkened instantly when he saw the fan running smoothly and the two of us working in perfect sync. "Aren't you two so capable?" he snorted, letting go of Hailey and walking over to slam his hand onto the control panel. "Shut it down! Who permitted you to mess with the equipment? Today, I'm going to..." My eyes locked onto the debt counter above his head. The moment he approached the machinery, his balance jumped from [-$8,000,000] to [-$8,050,000]. A malicious glint flashed in his eyes. He discreetly unbuckled his wristwatch and tossed it onto the vibrating edge of the conveyor belt. Chapter 3 The watch rolled along the vibrating conveyor belt and fell straight into the crushing gears. The dial was instantly shredded into scrap metal, triggering the machine's warning alarm. The belt ground to a halt, and the entire workshop went dead quiet. "Your Patek Philippe!" Hailey screamed, rushing forward in her high heels. She pointed at the mangled metal with a trembling finger and glared at me. "Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much that watch costs? Zach had it specially brought back from abroad. It's a limited edition worth $500,000!" Workers flooded in from the hallway, surrounding the area. In a factory where the average monthly salary was only $3,000, a $500,000 debt was a life-shattering amount. Everyone looked at me as if I were already ruined. Zach kicked over a nearby trash can and roared, "Are you blind? Weren't you watching the machine? I put my hand on the table, and you deliberately started the belt to destroy my watch!" His voice was intentionally booming. This was a textbook extortion setup. "Apologize right now and hand over $500,000!" Zach stepped closer, his face twisted in rage. "If you're short even a penny, you aren't leaving this factory on your feet today. Security!" Four guards rushed in, cornering Lucas and me with electric batons raised. Patrick pushed through the crowd, casting a cold glance at the ruined watch. "Improper operation and malicious damage to personal property," he said sanctimoniously. "Admit your mistake, call your family, and cough up the money. Otherwise..." He eyed the guards' batons. "Not only are you fired, but you'll be looking at felony and prison time." "Why waste your breath on a broke loser?" Hailey chimed in, fanning the flames. "She couldn't scrape up that kind of cash if she sold her organs on the black market. Sir, just call the police. Don't let her trashy presence ruin our workshop." The threats didn't faze me at all. I stood my ground, staring at the shifting numbers above Zach's head. He was shaking. It looked like rage on the surface, but I saw it for what it truly was: pure panic. He owed massive high-interest debts and desperately needed cash to fill the void. If that watch were genuinely worth $500,000, he never would have sacrificed it to industrial gears. The only explanation was that it was a fake, and he was running a scam. A calm voice cut through the chaos. "She didn't start the belt, and you threw the watch in yourself." Lucas stepped out, shielding me from Zach. His eyes held no fear, only deep amusement. "Did you think we're too poor to recognize a blatant extortion scam?" He slid a hand into his pocket, his tone mocking. "If you have the original box and papers for that watch, go ahead and call the police. Stop barking." Hit right where it hurt, Zach exploded. "Who are you to butt in?" He obviously didn't have any proof; the watch was a $2,000 knockoff. But he knew his uncle's authority was absolute here. "Uncle Patrick!" Zach pointed aggressively at Lucas. "Since this broke idiot wants to play the hero, let him! Make them both pay!" Running out of patience, Patrick stomped out his cigarette and waved a hand. "Security, strip their badges and lock the gates. Nobody leaves until I see that $500,000." The guards advanced, their batons crackling. The crowd backed away, expecting a beatdown. Just as a guard reached for us, Lucas let out a soft sigh and slowly reached into the pocket of his faded electrician's uniform. Under everyone's stunned gazes, he pulled out a slightly worn, matte-black bank card. "It's just $500,000, right?" Lucas tossed the card onto the payment terminal. "Password is six zeros. Go ahead and swipe." Chapter 4 The workshop fell dead silent for a split second before exploding into roaring laughter. "Did the machine dust rot this kid's brain?" "A piece of plastic like that is lucky to have $50 in it!" "He's acting so well I almost believed him!" ... Everyone mocked Lucas relentlessly. Hailey laughed the loudest, pointing a finger at the card. "Do you think life is a movie and that's a billionaire's Amex Black Card? You were choking down $6 pasta yesterday. Who are you trying to fool?" Zach loosened his tie and shoved the security guards aside. He snatched the card and stepped up to the payment terminal—a machine normally reserved for meal cards and fines that broadcast transactions over a loudspeaker. He wanted everyone to hear the humiliating "insufficient balance" alert. "You love doing things the hard way, huh?" he snorted, holding the card high. "Fine." Turning to the crowd, he continued, "Quiet down, everyone! Let's listen to how much change this mechanic has to his name!" The magnetic strip cleared. The room went deathly quiet as every worker and guard leaned in, waiting for the punchline. The terminal whirred, processing for two agonizing seconds. Then, a flat, automated voice echoed through the PA-linked speaker: "Payment successful. Amount deducted: $500,000." The internal printer whirred, spitting out a crisp receipt. The smug grins around us vanished instantly. The premium cigar dangling from Patrick's lips dropped onto the dirty floor. "This... is impossible," Hailey gasped, the color draining from her face. Zach's smirk froze, his mind going blank. "You gotta be kidding me! How could that trashy card pull half a million dollars?" He scrambled backward, shouting incoherently, "The machine is broken! It's a glitch! It has to be!" Nobody answered him. In the suffocating silence, Lucas stood perfectly still, his hands still casually resting in his pockets. "The debt is cleared," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Now, it's my turn to settle scores with you."