Godly Investor: A Hundred Trillion Dollars For Investment And Donations

The taxi spun violently, its frame buckling with every flip before slamming into the ground with a deafening crash. The force of the impact was catastrophic, and Ethan's body was hurled out of the vehicle like a projectile, smashing through the air before colliding with the side of a building.

The collision sent shockwaves through his body as he crumpled to the ground, motionless for a moment.

At that moment Ethan's chest heaved as he gasped for air, his head pounding and his limbs screaming in pain. It felt as though the world had gone silent, the chaos muted by the throbbing in his skull.

" Am I dead?"

The thought flickered in his mind, dark and unsettling.

Slowly, he forced his eyes open, his blurred vision sharpening just enough to take in the scene. His gaze locked onto the truck that had caused it all. It was speeding away, its taillights shrinking in the distance as though nothing had happened.

At that moment anger and disbelief flickered across his face, but then his eyes shifted, and his stomach dropped.

The taxi driver lay slumped in the mangled remains of the car. His body was twisted unnaturally, lifeless, and unmoving. There was no question—he was gone.

Ethan's breath hitched as he took it all in—the wreckage, the lifeless driver, and the truck disappearing. Pain rippled through him, but his focus remained steady. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the horrifying truth of what had just happened.

However Ethan's ears rang as the distant sounds of chaos filtered in—shouts, footsteps, and the unmistakable call for an ambulance. The words were muffled at first, but they grew sharper, cutting through the haze clouding his mind.

"Call an ambulance!"

a panicked voice yelled.

"We need help here!"

However Ethan tried to sit up, his muscles screaming in protest. His head turned toward the wreckage of the taxi, where a small crowd had begun to gather. He could see someone crouched by the lifeless driver, their frantic hands trying to find any sign of life.

Within moments, the distant wail of sirens echoed down the street, growing louder and closer.

Ethan watched as paramedics swarmed the scene, their movements swift and practiced. The driver was carefully pulled from the mangled vehicle, his lifeless body placed on a stretcher.

At that moment Ethan's gut tightened as he saw the blood staining the man's shirt.

"He's unresponsive," one of the paramedics called out. "We're taking him to Hospital. Let's move!"

Immediately Ethan's brow furrowed at the mention of the hospital that bore his name.

At that moment he managed to pull himself up slightly, leaning against the wall for support, his breathing shallow but steady. He watched as the ambulance doors slammed shut and the vehicle sped away, its siren piercing the air.

However Ethan remained there, motionless, the weight of the scene pressing down on him like a heavy blanket.

However noticing nobody was looking is way, it was has if they thought he wasn't involved in the accident.

without being told Ethan could tell it was the king cobra power, that is the reason he wasn't hurt that badly.

At that moment he managed to leave the scene, and went to the hospital.

Not long after they arrived.

Ethan pushed open the door to Mr. Davis's office, his movements slow but deliberate. His clothes were torn and bloodstained, his face smeared with dirt from the accident. Mr. Davis, seated behind his polished desk, looked up immediately, concern written in his eyes.

"What happened to you Mr Ethan, You should let someone check you over,"

Mr. Davis said firmly, his tone leaving little room for argument. "That kind of injuries—"

"I'm fine," Ethan interrupted, his voice flat. He didn't meet Mr. Davis's gaze as he grabbed a cloth from the corner of the office and began wiping the blood from his arms and face. Each swipe was deliberate, almost mechanical, as if he could erase the memory of what had just happened along with the stains.

However Mr. Davis watched him silently for a moment, his brow furrowing. Before he could press further, a knock at the door broke the uneasy quiet.

Immediately a staff member entered hesitantly, a folder clutched tightly in her hands.

"The report," she said softly, handing it to Mr. Davis.

Ethan stopped cleaning, his eyes narrowing as Mr. Davis flipped through the pages. The older man's jaw tightened, and he let out a slow breath before closing the folder and setting it down.

"He didn't make it," Mr. Davis said quietly, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air.

At that moment Ethan's hand froze mid-motion, the cloth dropping from his fingers onto the desk. He said nothing, his expression unreadable as he turned and sank down onto the edge of the table. His gaze fell to the floor, fixed on some invisible point as silence filled the room. The weight of everything pressed down on him, but he didn't speak, didn't move. He just sat there, lost in thought.

**

The truck sped down an empty stretch of road. The driver's hands gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror every few seconds. He turned off onto a secluded path, the tires crunching over gravel, and pulled up to an abandoned residence.

Inside the truck, the driver grabbed a phone from the dashboard. His fingers trembled slightly as he dialed a number.
Experience more on empire

Immediately the line clicked, and a deep voice on the other end answered, "Report."

"It's done," the driver said, his voice low but steady.

"Ethan's dead. There's no way he survived that."

At that moment There was a pause on the other end before the voice spoke again, calm and cold. "Good. The money will be transferred immediately."

The driver exhaled sharply, a mixture of relief and anticipation washing over him.

At that moment a soft chime sounded on his phone, and he glanced down at the screen.

"Ten million dollars."

His lips curled into a small, grim smile as he stared at the numbers.