Financial Freedom

Right before the market crashed, I cashed out and moved to Thailand, my fortune already made. The financial news anchor, the one who prided himself on his market analysis, called me in a frenzy, demanding to know why I had bailed. My father called, screaming that I was an ungrateful bastard. But I was calm. “Everything is fate,” I told them. “We are but puppets on its strings.” In my past life, I was a top-tier financial analyst. I predicted a hot stock was about to plummet and immediately warned my friends. But they stormed my house, furious, telling me their investments were trapped, that some were even on the verge of suicide. I was stunned, completely lost as to what went wrong. A friend showed me a video. A beautiful financial news anchor had predicted the same crash an hour before I did. He showed me her other videos; her past predictions mirrored mine, beat for beat. My friends believed I had deceived them, ruined their lives. They ganged up on me, tore me to pieces, and fed me to the dogs. When I opened my eyes again, I was back, one week before the crash. 1 “Mr. Hayes is a true prodigy! Look at all the money he’s made us!” “Yeah, we owe him big time! We’re counting on you to make us even richer, Nathan!” … I blinked, and I was back in the bustling stock exchange. People were swarming me, showering me with compliments, all hoping I’d lead them to another windfall. But these were the same people who had been the death of me in my past life. They called me a once-in-a-century financial genius. Since college, I had studied investing, predicted market trends, and never made a bad call. Any company I invested in was instantly deemed a golden opportunity, and everyone would rush to buy in. I had always enjoyed helping my classmates make money; their joy was my joy. That’s why I became a financial analyst after graduation, to help even more people. My reputation grew, and soon, my presence alone could cause a stampede. But this time around, I finally understood the true nature of human greed. I always warned them, “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Know your limits.” I told them I wasn’t infallible. But they never listened. They would liquidate their savings, some even taking out high-interest loans to leverage their bets. In my past life, when I foresaw the crash, I told them to sell everything. An hour later, they were at my door, their faces contorted with rage. “A little late, don’t you think?” one of them snarled. “Anyone who could get out, got out. Your ‘tip’ came too late. We’re all trapped.” “Do you have any idea how much we’ve lost? Jim couldn’t pay back his loans. He jumped off a building this morning!” My college classmate, Mark, held up his phone, his voice dripping with venom. “He tricked us all! He’s no genius! Look at this anchor’s video. She called it an hour before he did. Nathan Hayes has been using his reputation to scam us, playing us for fools!” I was completely bewildered. I spent most of my time analyzing the market; I barely had time to watch online videos. The others pulled out their phones, scrolling through the female anchor’s past predictions. “It’s true! Everything Nathan predicted, she predicted it first, and always earlier!” “We’ve been had! He’s not a prodigy, he’s a fraud!” “He’s the one who ruined us! Let’s kill him!” Their eyes were bloodshot. They didn’t even give me a chance to explain before they tore me apart. Now, hearing their flattery, a chill ran down my spine. My hands and feet turned to ice. 2 “Nathan, what’s wrong? Are you overworked?” Mark noticed my distress and gently pushed the crowd back to give me some space. Remembering what he did to me, my body went rigid. I pushed his hand away. “I am a bit tired. I was thinking of taking a trip to clear my head.” The moment I said it, Mrs. Gable from next door piped up, “Oh, Nathan, can’t you just stick it out a little longer? My son’s starting school soon, and we really need the money!” I was speechless. “Isn’t education free for the first nine years in this country?” She sniffed. “Well, he’ll need to buy a house and get married someday, won’t he?” I felt like I was going to be sick. “He’s not even in school yet. What’s the rush?” She was silenced, but the others chimed in with their own needs—a new house to renovate, tuition for studying abroad, a wife who wanted to upgrade. What did any of that have to do with me? “Uncles, aunts, friends, classmates,” I said, my voice strained. “I’m really not well. I need to rest. We can talk about this after I’ve recovered.” But they wouldn’t let me go, clinging to me, begging me to stay and help them. Just then, my father arrived. Seeing him again brought tears to my eyes. “Dad!” He held up a hand to quiet the crowd. “Listen to me, everyone! He’s my son, and I know he’s been working too hard. Let him rest!” Mrs. Gable was the first to object. “If he rests, who’s going to make money for us?” My father sighed. “But it’s not like he gets a cut of your earnings! I’m his father, and even I don’t have a right to demand anything of him. What right do you have?” “Dad!” I choked out, my heart aching. My mother died when I was young, and it had always been just the two of us. We weren’t rich, but my investments had made us a comfortable sum, enough to live well. But then my father pulled out a medical report, his hand trembling. “Nathan, it’s good you’re back. The doctor says if I don’t get a kidney transplant, I don’t have much time left. Just stay with me for a little while, okay?” I stared at the report, stunned. My father had kidney cancer. I gripped his hand. “Dad! We’ll get you the treatment! We have the money. We can get you a transplant!” “But… but…” His expression was pained, and he stammered, “Some guys invited me to play cards. They said the stakes were small, just a dollar for the first loss, then two, then four, doubling each time. I didn’t think it was much, so I played a few hands… and I lost everything.” My heart sank. He had been conned. It seemed that even if I wanted to walk away, fate had other plans. 3 I admitted my father to the hospital and threw myself back into market research. According to my memory of my past life, a bull market was just around the corner. If I played my cards right, I could make enough for my father’s transplant. Just as I was deep in thought, Mark called. “Nathan, I know you’re still in the game. We’ve been friends for years. Let me in on it. My wife just lost her job, and my son was just born. We’re struggling…” Some people can only share in wealth, not in hardship. The memory of him slandering me was still fresh. But when we were kids, his mother had treated me like her own son. I sighed. “Mark, the market is risky. What if you lose money? With your wife out of work and a new baby… I’m afraid you can’t afford the risk. So just invest a small amount.” “Okay! Okay!” “Precious metals,” I said. “The future is in precious metals. I’m bullish on Zenith.” “Got it! My son will never forget his generous godfather!” He hung up, ecstatic. After the call, I downloaded TikTok. I was curious about the financial anchor from my past life. I had just found her page when she posted a new video. “A little secret for you all… the future is in precious metals, especially Zenith!” I was stunned. That wasn’t what she had predicted in my past life. I quickly checked Zenith’s stock. It was skyrocketing. I frantically tried to buy, but the app was lagging. I couldn’t get the order through. Within minutes, the stock hit its daily limit and trading was halted. My phone rang. It was Mark again. “Nathan, I couldn’t get in on Zenith. Can you give me another tip?” I didn’t believe in coincidences. And in my past life, he was the one who accused me of being a copycat. “Sorry, I need a few days to think.” The moment I refused, his tone changed. “Nathan, I can’t believe you! You’ve already picked another one, haven’t you? Why won’t you tell me? How could you change like this? You’re the only one who’s allowed to get rich?” “But…” Before I could explain, he hung up. In my past life, I couldn’t understand his sudden turn. Now I realized he had changed a long time ago. I just hadn’t noticed. My father, even in the hospital, was thinking of me. He called to ask how my predictions were going. His old friends wanted to invest too, and they would give me a commission. He wanted to ease my burden. Those men had been kind to me when I was a child. I owed them. I remembered several other stocks that had done well in my past life. “A bull market is coming, Dad. We’re definitely going to make money. I think rare earth minerals are a good bet. Tell them to buy rare earth.” “Is there a specific company?” I checked the day’s market. “Solara.” My father praised my intelligence, saying how glad he was to have a son. “But Dad,” I said, changing the subject, “the money from this should be enough for your transplant. After the surgery, we’re out. The market is too risky. If we lose, we can’t afford it.” My father was silent for a moment. “Okay. I know the risks. After the surgery, we’ll move back to the countryside.” “Okay.” I finally understood. Those friends were fake. The only person in the world who truly loved me was my father. I was filled with hope. Once this stock paid out, I would have the money to save him. But something still felt off. I checked the female anchor’s page again. “Time for a new prediction! A bull market is on the horizon, and I think rare earth is the way to go. And just between us, I’m very optimistic about Solara!” A cold sweat broke out on my skin. How could her predictions be the same as mine again? 4 Before I could process it, my father called again. His voice was weak but urgent. “Nathan, I told all your uncles to buy Solara, but we’re all old and slow. None of us could get the order in. Did you manage to buy any?” I sighed. “I couldn’t get in either.” “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll keep an eye on the market. There will be other opportunities.” “Okay. But what about your uncles? They’re old, they just wanted to make a little extra for their final years. I already promised them…” I thought for a moment. “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll make another prediction for them. But this stays between us.” “Of course! I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t tell anyone else about a money-making opportunity!” After the call, I was still confused. In my past life, the anchor had never predicted either of these stocks. I scrolled through her old videos, searching for clues. I found a comment saying her name was Miranda Thorne. She used to be a nurse, but she had found a rich old man who could move the market with a single word. I wracked my brain, but I was sure I didn’t know her. My mind was a mess. I scrolled through my social media feed and saw a post from Mark. It was a screenshot of a stock hitting its limit, with the caption: [Asking for your prediction was a courtesy. You’re not the only one who can see the future!] The people I had helped in the past were all liking and commenting. [That little prick Nathan Hayes is so full of himself. We were just being nice asking for his opinion!] [Yeah, he’s nothing compared to our Miranda. She’s beautiful, and her predictions are always spot on!] [What does Nathan Hayes know about predictions? He’s probably just copying Miranda!] … So my death in my past life had been premeditated. But why? What did they gain from it? And why were Miranda’s predictions the same as mine? If Mark had betrayed me, what about my father? I was his only son. Why would he betray me? I pushed the thoughts aside. There were plenty of other stocks that had soared in my past life. This time, I wouldn’t tell anyone. I would buy first. Let’s see if Miranda can predict that. I rewatched her videos. Just like in my past life, she only focused on domestic stocks. But I remembered a few international stocks that had done very well. This time, I would buy all of them. Let’s see her predict that! And even if she did, it didn’t matter. After this boom, I would have enough money for my father’s treatment. Then I was done with the market for good. After buying the stocks, I camped out on Miranda’s page. I was a nervous wreck, my palms sweating as I refreshed the page like a madman. Not even five minutes later, a new video appeared. She was predicting international stocks. She had bought almost every single stock I had, except for one, a junk stock. I sneered. Smart. Even her copying was selective. I had invested the least in that junk stock. The person spying on me must have realized I was testing them. My father’s call came soon after. His tone was sharp, his voice booming with a newfound strength. “Nathan Hayes, what is wrong with you? I ask you for a few predictions, and you say nothing? I have to follow some stranger’s advice? How am I supposed to hold my head up?” “Dad, what are you talking about? I don’t understand,” I played dumb. But he was done pretending. “Don’t call me your father. I don’t have a son like you!” He hung up. The dial tone buzzed in my ear. A wave of desolation washed over me. So my father was just using me too. But it didn’t matter. I was going to be rich. What was family compared to money?