chapter 71

Hope

Ben adjusted his bag and left the club for home after another long day of work.

As night fell, Chicago transformed into a treacherous urban jungle. Tramps emerged from dark alleys, roaming the streets. Their only sustenance came from scavenging the back alleys of restaurants, digging through garbage cans, and salvaging scraps from swill buckets behind hotels.

These putrid remains of food were all they had to cling to life.

The streets were eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional tram or a solitary figure moving hurriedly. Ben's car stood out as it sped through the city.

The homeless on the streets turned their heads, their gazes filled with a volatile mix of greed and resentment. If not for the two bodyguards accompanying him, Ben wouldn't have dared venture out after dark.

The fear was palpable—hungry vagrants, desperate and enraged, might attack his car, tear him apart, and loot whatever they could before authorities arrived.

Ben sighed in relief as the car exited the dangerous block. Two more blocks ahead lay Nanqile Street, a safer haven. Unlike the chaos behind him, Nanqile was home to the middle class and the powerful elite. Its reputation for good public order made it one of the best-policed areas in Chicago.

Here, even the homeless carried an air of dignity. Dressed in worn yet clean suits, they bore none of the feral desperation seen elsewhere. Their faces were etched with weariness and regret, not madness or greed.

Many of these vagrants were once middle-class professionals who had lost everything. Despite their misfortunes, they retained a semblance of rationality and optimism. The government allowed them to remain in this block, recognizing their potential to rebuild when the economy recovered. These individuals were seen as essential to the nation's strength.

The community, too, played its part. Former neighbors, friends, and colleagues offered small gestures of support—sharing food, providing clean water, or offering a warm spot by the fireplace.

Ben's thoughts were interrupted when his eyes caught a familiar figure among the shadows. "Wait a minute," he said, instructing the driver to stop the car abruptly.

The brakes screeched, drawing the attention of nearby vagrants, who looked at the car with fleeting hope.

Rush Jeff, once Ben's colleague and friend, was a shadow of his former self. His suit, once worth a thousand dollars, hung in tatters. His knees bore fresh scars, and he shuffled forward aimlessly.

"Rush!" Ben called out, jumping out of the car and rushing toward his disheveled friend.

Rush stopped, raising his hand in a weak greeting. "Hi, Ben," he murmured with a faint, humorless smile.

"Rush…" Ben's voice faltered as he embraced him, his concern evident. He ignored the dirt and grime staining his own suit. "Come home with me," he urged, pulling Rush toward the car.

Inside the warmth of Ben's home, Rush sat hesitantly on the plush sofa, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. Joanna, Ben's wife, observed him with kind but tearful eyes.

"You were right, Ben," Rush confessed, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Greed blinded me. When the disaster struck, I lost everything—my work, my house, my car. Mary left with the kids, and I… I'm all alone now."

Tears streamed down his face as he buried his head in his hands, overcome by the pain of his downfall. The warmth of the tea was the first comfort he had felt in months.

Joanna leaned on Ben's shoulder, her heart aching for the man who had once been so full of life.

"Rush," Ben said after a moment's thought, "I think I can offer you a job."

Rush's head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Are… are you serious?"

"Of course. I wouldn't joke about something like this," Ben replied sincerely.

Rush's voice cracked with emotion. "Thank you, Ben. I—thank you."

"You'll stay here for now," Joanna added gently, already heading to prepare the guest room.

That night, as Rush lay beneath a soft, silken quilt, he struggled to sleep. The comfort and care he had received felt surreal. His heart swelled with gratitude for Ben and Joanna.

The next morning, he awoke to Joanna's warm call. After a hot shower and a hearty breakfast, the trio made their way to the club.

Ben introduced Rush to the team. "This is Rush Jeff, our new addition. Let's give him a warm welcome."

The team greeted him enthusiastically, and Ben handed him a document. "This outlines the think tank's analysis of current stock trends. The boss's directive is to acquire as many shares as possible."

Rush skimmed the list of high-profile companies—General Electric, Standard Oil, AT&T, and more. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "These stocks are still in demand, even now."

Ben nodded. "That's why we're here. It's not easy, but the boss trusts us to make it happen."

Rush felt a surge of determination. For the first time in months, he had a purpose, a second chance.

As he dived into the task, the weight of his hardships began to lift. He wasn't just surviving anymore—he was rebuilding, one step at a time.

And through it all, he knew he wouldn't have made it without Ben and Joanna's unwavering kindness.