Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate Chapter 149 CHAPTER 149: DESPAIR

Chris found life to be enjoyable.

With the retired general as his backer, he no longer had to worry about being bullied or ostracized. The fear that once clung to him like a shadow had been burned away by the warm light of newfound security. Life, as Chris ca to realize, was pretty sweet when you had soone powerful standing in your corner.

"Dear, what should we do?" Mrs. Ray asked her husband, pacing the length of their spacious living room. Worry creased her usually pristine features. Brian no longer kept appointnts like he used to. He'd changed. The once-dedicated prodigy was now skipping engagents and spending most of his ti with the devil incarnate—the very boy who had ruined their carefully constructed life. Chris.

Worse still, they couldn't touch Chris. Not anymore. Not after that single, chilling warning from the old general.

Just one phone call had frozen their hearts and tied their hands. The re thought of crossing the general sent shivers down the spines of even the most influential elites. His reputation—built on a legacy of power, discipline, and a network of unshakable connections—was more than enough to keep them in line.

"Dear," Mrs. Ray said again, this ti more urgently, holding her phone in one hand and waving her other in frustration. "Another appointnt—cancelled. Just because Brian decided to go play gas with that friend of his."

Her voice cracked with emotion. The appointnts, each a lucrative opportunity, had already been ntally cashed in. Plans had been made, purchases pre-planned. Her online shopping cart was filled with designer jewelry and imported handbags. Now, all of it was slipping through her fingers, day by day.

"That's the tenth one this month," Mr. Ray muttered, running a hand through his graying hair. He sat at the dining table, staring at the empty appointnt log like it had personally betrayed him. "Have you tried talking to Brian? Reasoning with him?"

Mrs. Ray shook her head solemnly.

The silence between them grew heavy. It was the kind of silence that didn't need words. They both knew the answer—Chris. That boy had beco the thorn in their side, the disruptor of their perfect family, the source of their mounting frustration.

"We need to do sothing about this," Mrs. Ray said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried a dangerous edge. "Cancelling appointnts is destroying our credibility. Clients are beginning to lose trust. Our influence is slipping."

She clutched her phone tighter, her manicured nails digging into the case. Sleepless nights, restless days, and dwindling inco had worn her down. Even her skincare routine had begun to fail her. She couldn't bear the thought of going without the luxuries she had grown used to. She blad Chris for it all.

"You're right," Mr. Ray said, his eyes narrowing. "This can't go on. I guess... we'll have to eliminate the threat. For good this ti."

Mrs. Ray froze. "What do you an?"

"Simple," Mr. Ray replied, his voice darkening. "The death of that pest, and our predicant will be over. Brian will return to his senses, and our lives will return to normal."

Mrs. Ray trembled at her husband's cold tone. "Honey…" she whispered, fear blooming in her chest like a dark flower. "Don't you think that's going too far?"

She tried to keep her voice light and sweet—asured, so as not to provoke him. She needed to know if he was serious, and if so, how far he'd already gone.

"That's the only way, my love," Mr. Ray said. He stepped closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Only then will we be free of that nuisance and the terrible influence he has over our son."

Mrs. Ray looked into his eyes and saw nothing but conviction.

A long silence passed between them.

Then, she took a breath and spoke with a voice that betrayed the war inside her. "How do we do that?"

Mr. Ray smiled—slow, victorious, and full of pride. He embraced his wife and pulled her into a passionate kiss, already envisioning the happy, restored life that awaited them.

—

anwhile, Chris and his parents were on the road.

The retired general's birthday had finally arrived, and the entire family had dressed in their finest to celebrate their benefactor. For Chris, it was more than just a birthday party—it was a chance to show his appreciation to the man who had changed his life.

"Honey, did you prepare the gift for Grandpa?" his mother asked, glancing at him with a smile.

Chris, sitting in the passenger seat, held the gift box tightly in his lap. "Yes. I hope he likes it."

He had worked hard to buy that gift, using prize money he'd won in a gaming tournant with Brian. He could've asked his parents for the money, or used his allowance, but he wanted the gift to an sothing more. He wanted it to co from him, not from soone else's pocket.

"Good lad," his father said from the driver's seat. "Make sure you're on your best behavior when we get there. No funny business, alright?"

Chris nodded. "Of course."

The general had beco like a grandfather to them all. It had started with casual visits, but over ti, he beca a fixture in their lives—soone who cared, listened, and brought joy with his stories and laughter. The man had lost his own daughter and grandson to a tragic accident. Chris, in many ways, had beco a symbol of the family he'd lost.

The road stretched out ahead of them, sunlight glinting off the car's polished surface. The air inside was light, cheerful, full of laughter and teasing.

Until it wasn't.

"Honey, watch out!" Chris's mother scread.

Ti seed to slow.

The car veered violently to the side as Chris's father swerved to avoid a truck barreling toward them from behind. Tires screeched. Horns blared. They narrowly missed a collision.

"What the hell was that?! Can't that driver see—" BOOM!

The words were cut short.

A massive truck crashed into them from the front.

Everything went dark.

—

"What happened to ?" Chris groaned, consciousness flickering like a failing lightbulb. "We were hit by a... Mum! Dad!"

He tried to sit up but was t with a wave of pain. Panic surged through him. He looked around frantically. Cold fluorescent lights. Beeping machines. The sterile scent of antiseptic.

"You're awake," a nurse said gently, her face filled with relief.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Chris asked, trying to get up—but sothing was wrong.

He couldn't feel his legs.

Not just numbness. Nothing. His lower half was... gone, in sensation if not in appearance.

"What's happening to ?" he asked, eyes wide in horror. "Why can't I feel my legs?!"

He looked down. They were still there—whole, unamputated. But useless.

The nurse stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, young man. Your spine suffered a critical injury. The damage is irreversible. You're... paralyzed from the waist down."

The words hit like a thunderclap.

Chris stared at her, hoping it was a mistake. A bad dream. A cruel joke. But her eyes held only sorrow.

He let out a broken breath, pain—not just physical but emotional—tearing through him.

His life had changed again.

But this ti, it wasn't for the better.