Harris rushed out from behind the greenbelt on the right front.

Max caught sight of a figure and instinctively hit the brakes.

There was a crash, the car shook, and someone fell onto the road.

Max was briefly stunned, then snapped back to his senses, cursed “damn it,” unbuckled his seatbelt, and hurried out of the car to check the situation.

The car hadn’t been going fast, so he felt it shouldn’t be a big problem.

An old bicycle lay toppled in front of the Cadillac, its rear wheel still spinning, and the Cadillac’s right front headlight cover was cracked.

A young white man was lying on the road, screaming in pain.

Harris didn’t need to act—he was genuinely in pain, a piercing pain that made him scream at the top of his lungs.

Max quickly asked, “Are you okay?”

It hurt so much that Harris didn’t want to answer. Only after Max asked again did he reply, face pale, “My left hand, my left hand is broken!”

Max was alarmed. Just as he was considering whether to make a run for it, he noticed that damn bear at the intersection coming over.

There was a witness.

Martin picked up the small camcorder he’d placed on the bench by the roadside and ran over. Just then, Eleanor drove by, so he put the camcorder in the passenger seat and waved his hand.

Eleanor glanced at Harris on the ground, immediately drove off, and hurried to the prearranged location to make a copy.

Martin took off the teddy bear’s big head, pulled out his phone, and loudly asked, “Mr. Max, do you need me to call the police?”

Max realized it was Martin, and his face looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

Harris propped himself up with one hand and said, “Call 911, get an ambulance!”

Of course, Martin wasn’t going to call 911. Holding the teddy bear’s head in one hand and his phone in the other, he acted like a dutiful employee following his boss’s orders and quietly asked, “Mr. Max?”

Max absolutely couldn’t let anyone call the police. By now, he had calmed down.

A normal car accident wasn’t a big deal—even if he broke someone’s arm, it wasn’t the end of the world.

But causing serious injury while driving under the influence was a felony, and he could end up in jail.

“This is a minor issue, no need to waste public resources.” Max looked at Harris, his tone gentle, as if he was ready to take full responsibility: “I am mainly at fault for this accident, and I am very sorry. I’ll cover your medical expenses, and I’ll also compensate you for lost wages and such, as required.”

He glanced at the bicycle with its twisted handlebars. “If there are any other losses, I’ll compensate you for those too.”

Harris grimaced in pain, gritting his teeth as he said, “I’m applying to college and preparing for the SAT. Now that my arm is broken, my chances of getting into my target school have dropped by eighty percent!”

The gentleness on Max’s face slowly faded. He looked at the young man’s clothes and the battered bicycle, then stood up. “Fine, we’ll go through the proper channels. You can hire a lawyer and sue my insurance company—they’ll handle your compensation.”

As long as this pauper had any sense, he’d know what was in his best interest.

Martin raised his phone and pressed the number 9, saying, “Mr. Max, I’ll help you call 911.”

“Stop! This has nothing to do with you!” Max wished he could kick this idiot away. He squatted in front of Harris: “Kid, I’m sincerely trying to settle this with you. I’m very sorry for what happened today, but sincerity goes both ways. I’ll show you my sincerity, and you’ll show me yours, right?”

They had discussed Max’s psychological bottom line in advance. Harris held up three fingers: “I’m seriously injured and will miss my exams—$3,000! Only $3,000 can make up for my losses.”

The gentleness vanished from Max’s face. “$1,000. I’ll give you $1,000 at most.”

Harris looked at Martin: “Call 911 for me, please.”

Two cars passed by. Max didn’t want to run into any good Samaritans, so he forced a smile: “I’m a responsible person. $2,000, but not a penny more.”

Harris said, “Fine, $2,000, but you have to pay immediately.”

Max breathed a sigh of relief, went to the car, took out his checkbook from his bag, and wrote two $1,000 checks.

Harris had handled plenty of checks at Scott’s shop and confirmed there was no problem before putting them away.

Max opened the driver’s side door, ready to go home and bake chocolate chip cookies for his two precious kids. He said to Martin, who was blocking the way, “Could you move aside?”

Suddenly, Martin reached out and closed the car door.

Max realized a moment too late and patted the teddy bear costume on Martin: “I have something to do today. I’ll contact you later.”

Martin smiled and said, “Mr. Max, actually, I’m a good Samaritan who likes to help people. If I don’t call 911 to get help for the injured in a situation like this, I’ll feel guilty and won’t be able to sleep for days.”

Max became alert: “Kid, what are you trying to do? I’m warning you, don’t mess around!”

Martin didn’t want to drag things out either, so he said directly, “My new boss is worried I’m not working hard enough, so he set up a little camcorder to keep an eye on me. The camera is pointed right at this intersection.”

Max’s face darkened, his gaze sharp as an eagle’s as he scanned every part of Martin.

Martin worried he might have a gun: “My boss just passed by and took the camera. If needed, I can call someone to bring it back.”

Chapter 5: Vicious and Unworthy of Being Human