Chapter 98: Winning the Bet

[Chapter 98: Winning the Bet]

A miracle truly happened.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been expected for Gaskill to remain unconscious for days. However, he surprisingly woke up the very next day.

With thick bandages wrapped around his head, Gaskill opened his eyes and saw Ian's smiling face and Lena's concerned look.

He chuckled softly, his voice hoarse but warm. "Hey, baby. I hope I didn't scare you too much."

He was still wearing an oxygen mask, his voice slightly weak, but overall he looked very good. This meant his recovery was going to be faster than anyone anticipated.

Lena held Gaskill's hand tightly. "Thank God, they said you're going to be alright. That bullet..."

She trailed off.

Gaskill whispered, "Ian took it out."

Ian was taken aback. "Gaskill?"

Gaskill chuckled lightly. "It's a medical phenomenon, a sort of near-death experience where one still has some awareness of their surroundings. I heard you and Lena talking."

Ian stayed silent for a moment before finally responding, "I spent two hours weaving a lie, and you bastard, you made me waste two full hours of thought."

Gaskill smiled, saying, "That's a good thing, Ian."

Ian looked at him with calm eyes.

Gaskill continued softly, "You once told me you had a knack for thievery... You weren't kidding. You're the kind of guy who can steal a bullet out of someone's head. This is good, Ian; it enhances the trust between us."

Ian replied, "I thought we were always trustworthy with each other."

Gaskill smiled, "The trust we had before revolved around character and friendship; now it's also about ability. You know what that means? I can lend you money without worry. Otherwise, even as good friends, I'd have to consider the basic risks involved."

Ian chuckled, "You're right. Maybe this isn't such a bad thing after all."

Bending slightly, he kissed Gaskill's forehead softly, "Let's keep this secret among the three of us; it doesn't need to spread beyond that... Good friends don't need many others."

Gaskill chuckled softly and hummed in agreement. "By the way, did you report about my getting shot?"

Ian shook his head. "No."

Gaskill urged, "You should report it."

Looking at Gaskill in disbelief, Ian replied, "You..."

In a weak voice, Gaskill said, "Those interviews from the Durham Steel Yard case were somewhat hollow; they didn't help you win the bet, did they?"

Ian grasped the old man's hand firmly. "We were so close. Saving that little girl had potential, but it fell through thanks to that useless lady cop."

Gaskill laughed, "Then just report my story... a 60-year-old banker shot in the head, and miraculously, the bullet falls out on its own. A miracle of life. People love that kind of miracle; it's got newsworthy value. Plus, no one has video, making it a perfect exclusive for the Herald. You could even score exclusive interviews with Lena and me... that should help you fulfill the bet... an old man survives being shot in the head and awakens the next day to give you an interview. You can write whatever you want; I'll accept it, except for any intimate details."

The old man smiled.

Ian stared blankly at him. "I just didn't see that coming."

Gaskill laughed, "A guy willing to stake his life on the news wouldn't mind putting a friend at risk. I believe in you, Ian; don't be such a wimp... We need to wrap up the Times acquisition quickly to move forward."

Looking at Gaskill, Ian felt tears welling up.

He nodded gently, "Alright, Gaskill. Thank you."

Gaskill smiled faintly and then closed his eyes.

His energy was severely depleted; just that brief conversation took a lot out of him, and he soon fell back into a deep sleep.

---

"Extra! Extra!"

"Chairman of Lino Bank Shot, Ian Carr Comes to the Rescue."

"The bullet from his head fell out during transit to the hospital."

"A miracle of life!"

"For details, see the Los Angeles Herald!"

...

In the office, Ian sat silently, reading the newspaper.

The Durham Steel Yard case, the fire involving the little girl, and Gaskill's shooting had turned the Herald into a hotbed of news.

The public's interest in the bet had been realized, and advertisers were over the moon. The initial advertisement fees were negotiated based on a daily circulation of 400,000; now, the Herald's daily circulation has reached around 700,000 and was steadily climbing.

What could be better than this?

...

At dusk, Lloyd entered the office.

He was buzzing with excitement, standing next to Ian. "Today's circulation hit 1,040,000. Ian, we broke a million! We're one of the top newspapers in America now!"

A million in circulation was a landmark achievement in American publishing, marking the Herald as a formidable player in the industry.

Of course, it was only the single best day's sales, not the average, but breaking that ceiling meant that achieving an average of a million was near.

However, Ian seemed unfazed, gazing out the window.

Lloyd looked at him, puzzled. "What's wrong, Ian?"

Ian let out a soft sigh.

He didn't say much and simply picked up the phone on the desk. "Deryl, it's me."

...

On the other end, Deryl Chandler's voice was calm. "I was about to call you. You won; the LA Times' circulation today was 980,000."

Ian remained expressionless. "The Chandler family sent a hitman to kill me, just across the street, pointing a gun at my head."

Deryl Chandler and Lloyd were both shocked.

In that moment, Lloyd instinctively stepped in front of Ian.

Ian patted his shoulder, signaling him to relax.

Deryl exclaimed, "I didn't know about this."

Ian chuckled, "I'm not mad at you, don't worry. That guy's been neutralized."

Deryl and Lloyd both sighed in relief.

Lloyd continued to look at Ian strangely.

Ian spoke up, "You know, I could let him pull that trigger. Once that shot is fired, I wouldn't die but the Chandler family would be as good as finished, and I'd scoop up another juicy headline."

Deryl Chandler was silent.

After a while, he replied, "Those guys are idiots."

Ian chuckled as he settled back in his chair. "You know why I'm not going to do that?"

Deryl pondered carefully for a moment before responding, "I can think of one reason, which is you intend to use this to squeeze the Chandler family for a better deal."

Ian laughed heartily. "Very good! That's part of it."

"What's the other part?"

"There are two more reasons. First, they'd offload all the blame onto you and do everything possible to dodge accountability. They'd even suggest that you colluded with me, which admittedly is true... I'm not worried about that, Deryl; the bet is notarized, so they can't wriggle out of it. But a lawsuit might delay the transition, and I don't like that. I want to wrap up the Times deal as soon as possible. For me, winning isn't what I care about anymore; reaping the rewards swiftly is what matters! I want to seal a deal today and collect the winnings tomorrow!"

Deryl Chandler replied, "That makes sense."

Ian continued, "The second reason is that there's been too much violence in the news lately. You know, sometimes we can shift the narrative; violent bloodshed can be rebranded as tales of wealthy family feuds... that's my weak point. It's not that I don't have news stories about wealthy families, but the value of doing business with them is obviously greater. So when a wealthy family, desperate enough to take a life, comes into play... I would be ecstatic!"

Deryl Chandler: "..."

Lloyd: "..."

Ian concluded, "Tonight, you'll undoubtedly face a storm at home. You need to prepare for it -- consider it a gift for joining Carr Media... it's beneficial for you too, Deryl. I can help you get a fair divorce, freeing you from the Chandler family's grip. After all, I wouldn't want my president to still be the Chandler family's son-in-law! But before that, you might have to pay a small price... that could involve some bloodshed."

Deryl Chandler understood, "Who else besides you?"

Ian replied, "Of course, it's Butterfly!"

*****

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