526-530

Chapter 526: He’s Really Not a Pervert 

Medical Center. 

VIP Maternity Ward.  

“So, how much longer is this gonna take?” 

Rachel wasn’t happy.

“No one can say for sure. Just hang in there, okay?” 

Dr. Montgomery finished up, gave a few instructions, and headed out.  

“Adam.” 

Ross tugged at Adam’s sleeve.  

“What’s up?” 

Adam raised an eyebrow, curious.  

“That trick you mentioned before… does it still work now?” 

Ross whispered sneakily.  

“…” 

Adam’s mouth twitched. He shot Ross a look like he was some kind of weirdo.  

“I’m just asking!” 

Ross stammered awkwardly. “You know Rachel wants this baby out ASAP, and I’m only trying to help her… Can you not look at me like that?”  

“You’re a freaking university professor!” 

Adam scoffed. “I only suggested that method back when her due date came and nothing was happening. It was a last resort to kick things off.  

But now? Dude, her water’s broken, her cervix is at 2 centimeters, and your daughter Emma’s coming soon. You’re officially useless at this point. That old trick? Out of the question.  

Otherwise, it’d be like you’re poking Emma with a needle. 

Emmm… not that you could even reach her in your state.  

But seriously, you shouldn’t even think about stuff like that. 

That’s straight-up twisted. 

If anyone finds out you had this idea, they’ll 100% think you’re a total creep!”  

“…” 

Ross stood there, fuming, as everyone stared at him like he was a pervert.  

“C’mon, keep it down!” Ross muttered, mortified. “You don’t have to yell it!”  

“They’re first-time parents, just married, and a little too lovey-dovey,” Adam explained to Liz, the only outsider in the room, with a straight face. “He’s really not a pervert.”  

“Totally get it,” Liz said, her lips twitching like she was holding back a laugh.  

“Oh my God, Ross!” 

His little sister Monica couldn’t help but chime in. “No wonder Mom could barely talk about your dates with those bar girls last time. What the heck have you been up to these past few years since you and Rachel split? What’s going on in that head of yours?”  

Chandler, Phoebe, and Joey all turned to Ross, shaking their heads in unison.  

“I didn’t do anything!” 

Ross was beyond exasperated, ready to slap himself silly.  

Why the hell did I even ask that?!  

“Maybe lay off the Discovery Channel for a bit,” Phoebe said with a knowing grin. “Sure, animals get wild, but we’re still human, y’know.”  

Ross loved the Discovery Channel—nature, biology, all that jazz. Like that time he tried cheering up a stressed-out Rachel, past her due date with no action, by mentioning how male seahorses carry the babies. Super clever, right?  

“Yeah, Ross,” Joey piped up, suddenly the wise guy. “Good guys know how to be gentle.”  

“…” 

Ross was done talking.  

“Alright, let’s head out and wait,” Adam said with a chuckle. “Ross, you stay with Rachel. Keep an eye on her—if anything feels off, call the nurses right away.”  

“Fine,” Ross grumbled, throwing Adam a glare.  

“Oh, and just watch her—no funny ideas…” 

Adam added with a smirk, dodging as Ross lunged at him, laughing as he bolted.  

An hour later, Rachel’s cervix was only at 3 centimeters—still a long way from the 10 needed for delivery. No surprise there. This was gonna be a marathon.  

Noon. Cafeteria.  

“Hey, where’s Chandler and Monica?” Phoebe asked, curious.  

Adam sat down with his tray and grinned. “Think about it. Right now, in this setting—what do you reckon Monica and Chandler are dying to do?”  

“Oh!” 

Phoebe paused, then burst out laughing. “You mean… make a baby?”  

Adam nodded, still grinning.  

“Here? Wow!” 

Phoebe’s eyes sparkled. “That’s so thrilling!”  

“The beds here are all sanitized,” Adam said. “Perfect for Monica and her germaphobe vibes. Plus, we’re already in a hospital. With Rachel giving birth as inspiration, Monica’s probably going extra wild today. She can wear Chandler out completely—no worries, they’re already at the hospital if anything goes wrong!”  

“Hahaha!” 

Phoebe cracked up, laughing nonstop.  

“What about Joey?” Adam glanced around.  

Phoebe mimicked his tone. “That young doctor in charge of Rachel? Pretty, great figure… What do you think?”  

“Joey never learns,” Adam said, shaking his head. “How about you? How’ve you been?”  

“Eh, same old,” Phoebe shrugged. “Not great, not terrible… Oh, whoa!” 

Her eyes lit up as she spotted someone, jumping up and dashing off with a quick, “See ya!”  

Adam followed her gaze and saw a hot guy in a cast being wheeled by a nurse. 

Emmm. Phoebe’s still got that young-at-heart vibe.  

After lunch, Adam headed to the ER. Rachel’s delivery could take forever—he wasn’t about to waste time just sitting around. He stayed busy until evening.  

By then, Rachel’s cervix had only reached 5 centimeters.  

“Looks like we’re waiting ‘til morning,” Adam told the gang. “You guys wanna head home and rest, or should I find you some beds here?”  

“Home!” 

“Here!” 

Chandler’s weak legs and Monica’s hyped-up energy gave totally opposite answers.  

“We’re staying,” Monica declared, shutting down Chandler’s lazy escape plan.  

“We’ve already taken time off,” Joey and Phoebe added. “Might as well stick around.” 

But their sneaky glances gave away their real motives.  

Adam didn’t push it and got them rooms.  

The night passed quietly.  

Next Morning. Early Shift.  

With a sharp cry from Rachel, after 21 grueling hours, her cervix finally hit 10 centimeters. Showtime!  

In the original timeline, Rachel’s baby was breech—Emma’s butt down, making natural birth a nightmare. Leonard, maybe out of spite or whatever, didn’t step up much, and Rachel’s delivery turned dangerous.  

But this time? Adam bridged the gap between Rachel and her dad, Leonard. Their relationship was way better than before, and they kept in touch. Rachel got all her prenatal checkups at the medical center. When Emma hit eight months and settled breech, Adam and Leonard jumped on it, using every trick in the book to flip her into position.  

So, this time around, Rachel was still in screaming agony, but it didn’t drag on forever. After nearly yanking Ross over for a beatdown during labor, she finally delivered Emma smoothly.  

Afterward, everyone agreed Ross had it coming.  

“Your wife’s over there screaming her lungs out, accidentally bumps your head, and you’ve got the nerve to rub your forehead and say, ‘Ow, nothing hurts worse than this!’?”  

Lucky for him, Rachel was stuck in the bed and too nice to do much. Anyone feistier would’ve paused mid-labor, dragged him over, and wailed, “Hurts, huh? How’s this for pain?!” while smacking him silly.  

Pain’s graded scientifically: 0-4. Level 4 is severe, constant agony with blood pressure and pulse spikes. Childbirth? Peak Level 4.  

Folk tales rank pain 1-12—mosquito bites at 1, childbirth at 12. That nonsense about a laboring mom getting bit by a mosquito for a “1+12=13” pain level? Total garbage. In the face of delivery pain, a mosquito bite doesn’t add up—it’s just drowned out. You don’t even feel it.  

Chapter 527: Godfather  

Medical Center. 

VIP Maternity Ward.  

“OMG! She’s gorgeous!”  

Rachel, all dolled up and glowing, cradled Emma with a sweet smile while Ross filmed her blissfully with the camera Adam had gifted. The door swung open, and everyone piled in, gasping in unison.  

“I’m so glad you two hooked up after a few drinks!”  

Aunt Monica scooped up little Emma, hugging her tight and gushing over her like she couldn’t get enough. Her voice cracked with emotion—she was totally smitten! Sure, this wasn’t her first rodeo as an aunt. Ross’s son Ben was already eight. But Ben? No match for Emma.  

I mean, one’s a sneaky kid from a scheming ex who tricked Ross into footing the bill, barely showing up. The other? A lovechild from a drunken night with her big bro, carried by her bestie, always around. Totally different vibes!  

“My turn, Aunt Phoebe!”  

Phoebe reached out, snagging Emma from Monica. She hugged her close, cooing, “Oh, sweetie, you’re just too cute—I could squish your little head!” Then, catching herself, she glanced at everyone and added, “But, uh, I won’t!”  

“Alright, Aunt Phoebe’s done—Uncle Joey’s up!”  

Joey clapped his hands, taking Emma next. “Whoa, she looks so real! Oh, wait—not Uncle Joey, Godfather Joey! I’m gonna be Emma’s godfather!”  

“Uh…”  

Rachel and Ross swapped a hesitant look.  

“What’s up?” Joey caught their vibe and peeked over.  

“Sorry, Joey,” Ross said. “No offense, but we were thinking Adam should be Emma’s godfather.”  

“Yeah,” Rachel chimed in. “Adam’s done so much for her…”  

“What?!” Joey balked, practically shouting. “This was my idea! And come on, godfather’s an Italian gig—I’m perfect for it!” To prove it, he launched into a classic Godfather line: “Do you spend time with your family? Of course I do—good! A man who doesn’t care for his family isn’t a man!” Then he grinned, “See? I’d be an awesome godfather!”  

“Joey…” Rachel and Ross squirmed.  

Not every kid needs a godfather, sure. But now that they were parents, they couldn’t help thinking about Emma’s future. A big-shot godfather from day one? She’d be set for life! Joey’s just a so-so TV actor—limited pull, and they weren’t keen on Emma diving into the messy entertainment world anyway. Among the crew, Adam was the real heavyweight.  

They weren’t usually this calculating with friends. But for their daughter? Yeah, they got a little practical.  

“What’s going on?”  

Adam strolled in right then.  

“Adam, hands off—you’re not stealing this from me!” Joey spilled the tea, clutching Emma like a guard dog.  

“Haha,” Adam laughed. “Let Joey do it. I’m not big on the godfather thing.”  

Kidding aside, if he said yes once, how many godkids would he end up with? Chandler and Monica? At least two, maybe more. Matthew and Lily, so in love—two kids minimum in his memory. Then there’s Sheldon and Amy’s “15” kids, Howard and Bernadette’s son and daughter, Leonard and Penny’s little one. These were his inner circle. If they asked, he’d have a hard time saying no.  

That’s already ten-plus right there! If he didn’t draw the line early, second-tier pals would start lining up too. Next thing you know, he’s at dozens. Being a godfather’s an honor, sure, but it’s also a load of responsibility. Imagining a swarm of bratty godkids buzzing around him? Yikes, scalp-tingling stuff.  

Plus, with his health and lifespan ticking up, aging might slow—or stop. Fifty’s old if you live to seventy. But for someone hitting two hundred? Barely past pimply teen years! If he ends up looking as young as his goddaughters, dripping with charm and status, who knows what those free-spirited American girls might pull? Awkward city. Better to dodge it now. Joey wants it? Let him have it!  

“Adam!” Rachel pouted. “You’ve done so much for Emma—you should be her godfather! Without you, she’d be illegitimate. And if it weren’t for you, her breech position would’ve meant a C-section. She’d be weaker from the start—you told me that yourself!”  

“Uh…” Adam winced, sensing Rachel’s mom-mode kicking in hard. This was tough to dodge. Joey’s puppy-dog eyes said it all—being asked to be a godfather’s a huge nod. With casual friends, he could brush it off. But Rachel and Ross, this close, pushing again and again? Hard to say no without looking like a jerk.  

“Adam, just be Emma’s godfather,” Monica jumped in, reading the room. “You and Joey can do it! No rule says there’s only one!”  

“Yeah!” Joey lit up, clapping. “In showbiz, child stars snag tons of bigwigs as godparents—racking up resources left and right. If they can, why can’t Emma have two?!”  

“Wait, that’s an option?” Rachel’s eyes sparkled.  

She’d thought it was some solemn, one-and-done deal—special and respectful—so she’d picked Adam over Joey. But multiple? Why choose? Kids deserve it all!  

“I’m not exactly an expert on this…” Adam gave a wry smile. “But if you’re set on it, I’ll be Emma’s godfather. Fair warning—I might never have kids myself, so I’ve got no clue how to do this!”  

“No worries!” Rachel’s eyes gleamed brighter. “Just spoil her a little—that’s plenty!”  

Emmm. Spoil her like she’s his only kid? Boom—princess status! The thought wiped away labor pains and postpartum blues, filling her with dreams of Emma’s royal future.  

Emmm. Adam’s clueless at this? No problem—she’d coach Emma. As her mom, Rachel was a pro at buttering up dads for favors. Her sisters Amy and Jill still used her old tricks! She’d make sure Emma and her godfather bonded perfectly through some expert-level charm.  

“Godfather Joey, you’ve hugged her enough—Godfather Adam’s turn!” Monica nudged Joey to pass Emma over. “Come on, Adam, hold your goddaughter!”  

“Alright, fine,” Adam sighed, giving in. He took Emma, peering down at her.  

“Hey, she’s smiling—Emma’s smiling!”  

“No way! She really is! Guess she likes the godfather her mom picked!”  

“Let me see! Ugh, rude—I’m a godfather too! I held you forever and got nothing!”  

Seeing Emma grin up at him, Adam couldn’t help but soften. Logically, he knew it wasn’t about him—newborn smiles just mean they’re comfy and content. He just happened to be there. But still… it’s pretty darn heartwarming, right? 🥰  

Chapter 528: I’ve Got a Bold Idea 

Medical Center. 

After Emma was born, visitors started pouring in nonstop.  

When Leonard found out Rachel picked Adam to be Emma’s godfather—her first granddaughter—he practically redefined “beaming with pride.” 😊  

“You guys always say I favor your big sister Rachel,” Leonard said to his daughters, full of energy. “But look at what she’s done—can you really blame me for playing favorites?”  

“What’s the big deal?” 

Second daughter Amy rolled her eyes. “It’s just a godfather, not like it’s some huge thing…”  

A godfather compared to a real dad? Pfft. Her kid’s dad was gonna be a billionaire someday! She just didn’t feel like bragging about it.  

Emmm… Okay, fine. 

She was also a little scared that if she did, her dad might literally slap her face for it. So she kept quiet.  

“Rachel can do it, so can I!” 

Little sister Jill, being the simple soul she was, blurted out her plan to copy her big sis. “When I have a kid, I’ll make Adam the godfather too!”  

“Dream on!” 

Amy shot her down. “You think just anyone can snag Adam as a godfather? Rachel’s got the advantage—she’s his good friend, and Dad’s his mentor. You? Don’t even think about it.”  

“I’m Dad’s daughter too!” Jill huffed, not backing down. “I could totally be his good friend!”  

“Heh.” 

Amy smirked. “You’re so naive, you might as well just ask Adam to adopt you as his goddaughter instead.”  

“Hey, that could work!” 

Jill’s eyes lit up.  

“Enough!” 

Leonard’s mouth twitched—he couldn’t handle his two troublemakers saying anything else that might give him a heart attack. “Let Rachel rest. We’re leaving.”  

He said a few words to Rachel, then dragged his daughters out.  

By evening, Rachel—proving Western women are built tough—barely seemed fazed by labor. She scooped up Emma, headed back to the apartment, and threw a celebration party for all her friends and family to meet the baby.  

Bed rest? Postpartum recovery? Nah, not her style.  

Adam, as the heavyweight godfather, had no choice but to clear his schedule and show up. This party wasn’t just a welcome bash—it doubled as the godparent ceremony.  

He couldn’t help but feel a little helpless inside. This is basically me accidentally becoming a dad. 😅  

Helpless or not, Rachel shoved Emma into his arms, and with Joey eyeing him jealously, Adam worked the room, showing off the baby.  

Luckily, even among friends and family, people had their cliques. After the initial excitement, everyone split into little groups to chat, leaving Adam with just his usual crew—Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe.  

“Hey, the baby’s over here!” 

Amy strutted over, all fired up.  

“Listen, I just had an amazing idea!”  

“Stop!” 

Rachel threw up a hand. “We don’t need amazing ideas.”  

She knew her sister too well—Amy was a loose cannon. The more “amazing” her ideas, the less you should listen.  

“Ugh!” 

Amy pouted. “I’m Emma’s aunt—don’t I get a say?”  

“Go ahead,” Adam said, desperate for a mental break.  

Being swarmed by people cooing over Emma in his arms was starting to make him feel like he was the dad. He needed something—anything—else to focus on.  

“Alright, hear me out!” 

Amy clapped her hands, eyes gleaming. “I was thinking—if you guys died right now, I could take the baby. It’d be like a movie plot!  

At first, I’d be totally clueless. 

Then, at just the right moment, I’d turn it all around. 

I’d get married, settle down, and live happily ever after!”  

“Great movie!” 

Joey nodded, smirking. “Maybe you’d raise her with Emma’s godfather—me, Joey. We’d clash a ton at first, but then sparks would fly…”  

“Stop!” 

Amy cut him off. “This isn’t Days of Our Lives, and you’re not wearing that much makeup, so zip it. Now, if it was Godfather Adam… maybe a slim chance. But still just a slim one.”  

She ignored Joey’s darkening expression and turned to Rachel and Ross. “Anyway, back to the point—if you’re dead, you can’t stop me. I’d start by changing her name. I’m not a fan of ‘Emma.’”  

“Enough!” 

Rachel frowned. “If something happens to me and Ross…” 

She and Ross both knocked on the table at the same time.  

In the West, that’s a good-luck gesture—canceling out bad vibes after saying something grim.  

“…you’re not getting the baby,” Rachel finished with a smile.  

“What?! Then who would?” 

Amy couldn’t handle it.  

“Uh, we haven’t officially talked it out,” Rachel said, exchanging a look with Ross. “But we’d want it to be Monica and Chandler.”  

“Really?” 

Chandler and Monica lit up, honored.  

“Of course it’s real,” Adam chimed in. “Who’s better than you two? You’ve got a solid relationship, Monica’d be an amazing mom, and Chandler, once you ditch that baggage, you’d be a great dad too.  

If it were me? 

Say I had a kid someday and—God forbid—I didn’t make it…” 

Knock knock! 

Adam tapped the table too.  

It’s a Western superstition, sure, but when in Rome, right? Plus, with all the weirdness of穿越 (time-travel) and systems in his life, a little caution couldn’t hurt.  

“I’d want Chandler and Monica to raise them,” he said. “Or maybe Matthew and Lily.”  

The obvious first pick would’ve been the grandparents—Dad Bob and Mom Amy. But by then, they’d be old. Raising kids is exhausting, and while they’d shower the grandkids with love, Bob’s parenting skills were… questionable, to say the least.  

Adam wasn’t about to bet on an aging Bob still diving to catch a kid he’d tossed in the air like back in the day. 

Emmm… Yeah, he didn’t catch me that time.  

Among his siblings, only Teddy, the second oldest, was semi-reliable. But compared to Chandler and Monica or Matthew and Lily, Teddy was still a kid himself back then.  

Sure, Adam had considered his best friend Juno too. He trusted she’d pour her heart into raising a kid. With her dual mastery of psychology—theory and practice—she’d be the perfect mom and buddy, guiding them to success.  

But Juno and Karen’s vibe? Not exactly kid-friendly. Even if they tried to hide it, a child raised there might pick up some… quirky traits. What if they ended up in a Little Red Riding Hood outfit at the drop of a hat? Without Juno’s knack or Adam’s system, that’d be a mess.  

So Juno was out first.  

As for Peggy and the rest? Forget it. Leonard’s cautionary tale was still fresh.  

In the end, it boiled down to Chandler and Monica or Matthew and Lily. 

Stable relationships? Check. 

Solid values? Check. 

Maternal instincts? Check. 

Patience? Check. 

Family vibes? Check.  

They had everything it takes to build and sustain a happy family—hands down the best choice for giving a kid a great life.  

Chapter 529: Snow-White Peggy Steps Into the Mortal World  

The buzz from Rachel’s baby girl faded out, and next up was Peggy’s mom’s wedding. Adam felt like he’d zipped back to his past life—year-end vibes, holidays packed with friends and family tying the knot left and right.  

Back then, single folks like him got bombarded with “red envelopes”—wedding invites that hit like grenades. Brutal stuff! You’d burn through a month or two’s pay in a flash. And the “dog food”? Shoved down your throat ‘til you were sick of it. 😩 Crashing multiple weddings in a day? Normal. He’d even had a wild stretch—drunk ‘til he puked at noon, then still woozy that night and the next day, same hotel, same dishes, same crew, two more rounds. Total appetite killer.  

Tables piled with food, barely touched—awkward as heck. Everyone just dropped their cash-stuffed envelopes, stared at each other, and silently mourned their wallets. The two classmates who wed right after? Zero shame. “One more drink, pals—no old friends west of Yangguan Pass! Cheers, bros!” they’d say.  

Emmm. They worked out of town, so coming back to wed was a trek. They’d already done it back home, but before heading out, they had to treat their dear old crew. Manners, right? Time was tight, and since the first wedding was a blast, they figured, why not book the same hotel for two more? Everyone’s here—perfect!  

Except… year-end weddings were so crammed, the hotel just churned out the same dishes for convenience. Wild twist? Adam’s gang showed up for one wedding, only to get roped into two more—random classmates they barely knew, ones you’d normally skip. But mid-first-party, faces flushed and drinks flowing, those two dropped the bomb: they’d already married back home, and since everyone was here for the class prez’s big day, they’d piggyback their own. Efficient! Fun! Drunk? Crash here—rooms are booked. Sleep it off, then keep going.  

These classmates? No chill! 😤 Worse, by the year Adam crossed over, single-dog him still hadn’t recouped the year-plus of cash he’d shelled out. Those two ninja classmates? Vanished—no trace. Even if he’d married before crossing over, no chance of clawing that money back. Heartache city.  

He seriously wondered if some single-dog deity pitied him, tossing him a (transmigration) and a system to make up for it with a dazzling new life. This time around, he wasn’t just free of single-dog status—he was rolling to weddings with a goddess adored by millions of fans. If this weren’t Peggy’s mom’s big day, he could’ve flipped through his deck of lady friends to pick a plus-one.  

Man, the contrast? Like waking from a dream.  

Peggy’s mom’s wedding was set for Saturday, in a small town near Washington, D.C. Friday night, Adam clocked out, hit New Jersey to meet Peggy, and planned to drive over that night. Rachel’s baby drama had already eaten up time, but tomorrow was his day off—no need to beg for leave. Wedding done, back to NYC.  

D.C.’s just 300-ish kilometers from New York—40 minutes by plane. But Adam’s cautious streak kicked in: no planes if he could help it. So, road trip with Peggy it was. Four hours tops for most drivers.  

Peggy’s apartment.  

“Boss, how’s Peggy looking in this bridesmaid dress?”  

When Adam rolled in, assistant Lisa was there, helping Peggy try on her gown.  

“Lisa, got a big job for you,” Adam said, all serious. “Hit up the dress shop now. Get ten backup dresses in Peggy’s size.”  

“Ten backups?” Lisa’s jaw dropped.  

“Yup!” Adam doubled down. “I know these aren’t mass-produced—no exact matches. Different styles are fine. Grab ten for Peggy’s mom’s bride dress and Erica’s bridesmaid gown too, matching sizes. Best quality only. This is Peggy’s mom’s day—we’re doing it right, no slip-ups. Got it?”  

“Uh… got it!” Lisa blinked, dazed by Adam’s intensity. Even half-lost, she nodded and bolted. As she shut the door, she caught a glimpse of Adam’s next move, snapped back to reality, blushed, and muttered, “Pfft!”  

Pfft or not, boss’s orders were law. Grumbling inwardly, she called the dress shop for ten top-tier backup sets—bride and bridesmaid. She could already picture the shop owner’s shock melting into a giddy grin.  

Back at Peggy’s place.  

“Ten backups? What’s that about…” Peggy, mid-mirror check, turned to Adam, puzzled.  

“Keep going!” Adam channeled Leonard spotting Penny—pants already on the floor as Lisa left, now peeling off his shirt, nodding for Peggy to ignore him and carry on.  

“…” Peggy, faced with Adam’s antics, was speechless.  

And yeah, Adam nailed it. Ten backups? Not overkill at all.  

In East Asia, weddings rock red and shun white—custom thing. The West? Different deal. They’re all about baring their hearts. Like the saying goes: “Look sharp in mourning white!” They’ve mastered it, turning that vibe into wedding magic—brides shining at their peak for life’s ultimate day.  

Peggy’s beauty, draped in luxe white? A snow princess stepping into the mortal realm. Mortal Adam’s take: You’re here, don’t leave! So, the plan to drive overnight? Tossed out the window.  

Next day.  

Knock knock knock! 

Knock knock knock!  

“Boss, we’re seriously late!” Lisa, getting no response, texted, called—phone’s off—then banged on the bedroom door.  

“Chill,” Adam’s voice floated out. “We’ve got time.”  

“Boss, you’re not ready yet?” Lisa eyed the snowy chaos in the living room, facepalming.  

What a waste! That gorgeous bridesmaid dress—$5,000, gone! No duplicates available, so Lisa, dead-set on Adam’s orders, scrambled overnight for ten different styles. Erica’s bridesmaid dress and Peggy’s mom’s gown had to switch too. Bride’s dress? Pricier—$10,000. Three pieces total: $20,000.  

Even if the extras could be returned, Adam’s night of fun still torched $70,000. Hiss! Shameless rich guy!  

Chapter 530: Speed King 

The sun was already high in the sky.  

Lisa stared at Adam with a mix of disbelief and exasperation as he finally strolled out of the bedroom, looking refreshed.  

“Get ready, we’re heading out,” he said.  

“Boss, you sure we’ve still got time for this?” Lisa quipped. “It’s already 9 a.m. The wedding’s at noon, and I didn’t book any plane tickets.”  

“No worries, we’re driving,” Adam replied casually, pulling out his phone. It instantly exploded with missed calls and texts—Ted, Erica, the whole crew.  

“Ted, hey, something came up earlier, plans shifted a bit. We’re leaving now—don’t stress, we’ll make it. Tell everyone not to worry. Catch you soon!”  

He hung up, and while Lisa’s mouth twitched, he and Peggy ducked into the bathroom for a quick shower.  

Thirty minutes later, they were downstairs by the car.  

“Lisa, you don’t have a heart condition, right?” Adam double-checked.  

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head—then a bad feeling hit her. “Wait, why are you asking, boss?”  

“The ride might get a little fast. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” he said with a grin, hopping into the driver’s seat.  

“Boss, I think I’ve got a congenital heart defect after all…” Lisa muttered, clutching three wedding dresses, suddenly convinced she was doomed.  

“You’ll be okay,” Adam reassured her. “Did you forget I’m the best cardiothoracic surgeon around? Hop in—we’re on a tight schedule.”  

Peggy slid into the passenger seat without a word. She’d been in faster cars with Adam before—no sweat.  

“…” 

Lisa’s face crumpled as she climbed into the back, snapping her seatbelt on tight.  

“Good safety instincts,” Adam nodded approvingly. “I was gonna remind you to buckle up anyway.”  

“Boss, it’s just a wedding—and not even yours!” Lisa pleaded. “If we’re late, we’re late. Please don’t risk an accident over this.”  

She glanced at Peggy, hoping for backup. “Peggy’s in the car too, y’know!” Please care about her safety if not mine!  

“Exactly,” Adam said, adjusting the rearview mirror and flashing Lisa a smile. “Peggy’s here. If you don’t trust me, don’t you at least trust her?”  

“…” 

Lisa froze. She had no comeback.  

Normally, she’d trust Peggy with her life. But when Peggy was around Adam? All bets were off. Her mom’s wedding was hours away, and here Peggy was, still chilling with Adam like it was no big deal—zero signs of panic despite the ticking clock. How could Lisa trust that?  

“Alright, no more objections?” Adam grinned, firing up his recently bought Porsche 911.  

Back when his IQ shot past 180, turning him into a super-genius with bullet-time reflexes, he’d splurged on this beauty.  

A sports car blows an SUV out of the water, speed-wise. And since he was constantly zipping between New York and New Jersey, saving time made sense.  

“Here we go!”  

The engine roared, and the car shot forward like an arrow.  

Even with her mental prep, Lisa jolted at the insane acceleration pinning her to the seat.  

Then the real terror kicked in.  

They were in the city—traffic everywhere. 

Yet Adam kept speeding up, weaving past car after car.  

Watching vehicles blur by, Lisa peeked at the speedometer: 142 km/h and climbing. She was trembling.  

She wanted to scream, “Boss, slow down! Slow down! Not so fast!” But her last shred of sense stopped her.  

For one, Adam wouldn’t listen. 

More importantly, at this speed, distracting the driver could bury them both.  

As they slipped through the traffic like a fish through water and hit the open suburban highway, Lisa almost relaxed—until she saw the speed hit 246 km/h.  

And it was still climbing!  

“Slow down, slow down!” 

She couldn’t hold it in anymore, squeezing her eyes shut and shrieking.  

Sure, there were no cars to crash into out here, but at this speed on a highway? A blind rabbit, a rogue kangaroo, or a stray rock could end them in a fiery wreck.  

“Relax,” Adam said, glancing at her in the mirror with a calm smile. “This car tops out at 280 km/h. I won’t push it past that, and we’ve got plenty of time.”  

Lisa cracked an eye open—269 km/h. Okay, he wasn’t speeding up anymore.  

Now it clicked why he was so confident. 

It was over 300 kilometers total. At this pace, they’d be there in just over an hour. Leaving at 9:30, arriving by 10? For a trip that’d normally take her four hours, it was unreal.  

Still shaken, she grumbled, “Boss, you’re not scared of dying?”  

“Of course I am,” Adam laughed. “Why do you think I hardly ever fly?”  

“I’m pretty sure flying’s safer than your driving,” Lisa shot back. “No, like, a million times safer!”  

“That’s just your imagination,” Adam said with a sly smile.  

Flying meant packing a parachute. Over an ocean? Even with one, it’s dicey—you never know how long you’d drift.  

Sure, with his endurance and strength, Adam could survive at sea just fine. Swim it out, maybe even tame a shark and ride it around like Aquaman.  

Driving like a speed king looked way riskier than flying. But with bullet-time reflexes and razor-sharp reaction skills, it was safer for him than a plane ever could be.  

In city traffic, a car swerving without signaling could spell disaster. But in Adam’s world—bullet time plus lightning reflexes—it was no sweat.  

10 a.m. 

A classic Mid-century single-family home.  

Ted was practically wearing out his eyes waiting when a sleek Porsche 911 screeched in with a perfect drift, parking right at the door.  

“You actually drove here?” Ted asked, incredulous, checking his watch. Then he stopped doubting.  

The back door popped open, and Lisa stumbled out, bolted to a trash can, and started heaving.

Adam grabbed the three packaged wedding dresses from the back and grinned at a stunned Ted. “Where’s the bride and bridesmaids? They need to change.”  

“Change? Why?” Ted blinked, confused.  

“Because these dresses are way prettier,” Adam said with a smile. “Trust me, they’ll love ‘em.”  

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