Chapter 92 - 91: FREE ADVICE
The city throbbed with restless energy, a heartbeat that never slowed, its veins filled with the electricity of ambition and motion.
Not the kind of life that surged through financial markets and news tickers—no screens, no graphs, no numbers threatening to explode with the weight of decisions—but something more grounded. Honest, even.
Just the gentle clatter of cutlery, the faint hum of conversation, and the rhythmic thrum of footsteps on pavement. Rex walked through it all, leaving behind old burdens with every step.
It was the kind of rhythm you could only notice when you stopped moving—when you stepped off the conveyor belt of ambition and let the world pass you by.
For once, Rex did just that.
The air was crisp, kissed with spring’s perfume. Birds chirped somewhere above the noise. Car horns honked. Distant laughter filtered through alleyways and open café doors. Street performers filled pockets of the sidewalk with saxophones, acoustic covers, and a kind of magic born only in cities where a thousand stories unfolded every hour.
And Rex, for now, wasn’t the protagonist of any of them.
Suddenly, near the edge of a quiet street, he noticed an old man, standing a weathered man on an upturned crate. His beard was wild, his jacket was army surplus, with a cardboard sign that read:
FREE ADVICE
ASK WHATEVER YOU WANT
He didn’t seem like a preacher or a con. Just a man tossing words into the wind like paper boats — some sank, some sailed.