World's Richest Man: I Leaped Across Time
Chapter 62 - 62: Back in Boston

There was a certain type of aura at the table. An aura of wealth.

Two hours of playing later and I was down to $31,000...

I was playing another hand and the only two players left were me and the blonde.

The pot was up to $15,000.

I had two kings in my hand; I was holding a solid pair.

The flop revealed a two, an eight, and an ace, all different suits. I assessed the situation quickly: the ace was a potential threat, but the other cards seemed weak for a straight.

The woman with the blonde hair bet $2,000!

I mentally calculated her possible hands.

Given that she was betting into me in this kind of situation, she must have had a high pair in hand or even an ace, but then I noticed a tiny, almost imperceptible brow movement. It seemed like she was bluffing.

I hesitated, but something about that gesture made me doubt her hand. "Call," I said, matching her bet and putting $2,000 into the pot.

The fourth card was dealt, and it was a king—the one card that improved my hand to a set of three kings.

My confidence surged.

The woman was clearly puzzled. She had assumed that I would fold and was surprised when I called.

It was her turn to bet. "Check," she said.

She had to have two pairs—aces and kings—against my three kings. Otherwise, this made no sense.

I bet $4,000.

Clearly confused by what I held, she called my bet.

The last card was turned - a nine.

I bet another $4,000 and she called me again. The pot was up to $35,000, of which all but $3,000 had been put in by her and me.

We turned our cards over.

She saw my three kings, blinked and looked at me with a smile. "That's... a nice hand. You win."

I was correct; she had two pairs against my three kings. But a set always wins against a pair.

I made $16,000 in one hand and was back up to $47,000.

After the hand, I gathered my chips and handed them over to Rose. She eagerly took the stack of chips and placed them back into her satchel.

I nodded to the guys at the poker table and then left, walking to a blackjack table.

I took my seat and started playing $500 and $1000 hands. The next two hours were a rollercoaster; there was an initial lucky streak, but the tide soon turned. Before I knew it, I was down $15,000.

I decided it was time to call it quits for the night. I left the VIP zone with Rose and as I thought about how much I should tip her, I was abruptly interrupted by a piercing scream that rattled my eardrums.

A 300-pound female tourist had just won a fortune on her slot machine—a $10 jackpot.

Jesus...

I reached into my pocket and pulled out $400.

"Here's $400 more for you, Rose," I said, handing her the bills.

She looked at me with genuine warmth. Before I could react, she stepped closer and caught me in a hug. She leaned into me, her body softly meeting mine and then she planted a kiss on my cheek. "Thank you so much!"

"Alright, alright. Thank you too."

After the heartfelt exchange, we parted ways.

I made my way back to my room. I was on the brink of exhaustion; my body screamed for rest, but I forced myself to push through the fatigue and watched the Bellagio Fountains' light show through my window.

I dozed off before it even finished.

...

On Sunday, I decided to skip gambling and explore the city instead. I enjoyed a leisurely walk and visited a few interesting spots.

By 4 p.m., I checked out of the hotel and took a cab to the airport. Thankfully, the driver was a quiet person.

My flight to Boston was scheduled for 5 p.m.

In the end, I decided to upgrade to business class; after all, I made some money in Vegas.

Once in my upgraded business class seat, I finally relaxed and ordered a cold glass of water.

The plane landed in Boston after 10 p.m.

After another taxi ride, I slept through the night at a much cheaper hotel than last time.

...

I woke up at 7 a.m., designed a business card for Immortal Investments on my notebook, then bought an airplane ticket to Gainesville for 3 p.m.

I booked the hotel room for the entire day and with just a suitcase holding my notebook, some paper, pen and my wallet, I set off for the printing office.

I printed a set of 50 business cards and took off for the Harvard campus on foot.

30 minutes later, I walked onto the green quad of Harvard Yard. The neatly manicured grass was encircled on all sides by residential buildings. I took in the college buildings and the campus, which was heavy with student traffic.

It was a sunny day, so there were students lounging on the grass.

A short distance away, I saw three young women sunbathing. They wore shorts and t-shirts knotted up into bikini tops. They looked like they'd been hitting the gym all year. Their slim, athletic figures boasted toned legs and trim bellies.

I guess they were trying to use the last of the year's heat.

I walked into the Department of Economics building, which had Greek Doric columns at the entrance.

Since I'd been here before, I quickly found the bulletin board with the class schedules and located the Undergraduate Program in Economics, third-year, business specialization.

Reagan Lee's first class started at 8 a.m. and would end in less than an hour.

I paused for a moment, 'Isn't this a bit of a stalker behaviour?' I thought.

No... I just want to offer him a job.

I stood outside the classroom where Reagan Lee's lecture was taking place, waiting for the class to let out.

Reagan Lee was American-born, with a family that had been in the U.S. for generations. He had Chinese heritage. Not that it mattered.

I knew Lee from my last timeline because he worked for the Johnson family. His job was slightly lower in rank than mine, but I had a few conversations with him about the software and hardware markets before and I knew that having him would be of great benefit.

As students started leaving the classroom, I scanned the crowd, trying to spot Reagan Lee. I'd never seen a picture of him from when he was younger, and there were a few other Asian students in the mix, which made it a bit tricky.

But I was worrying for nothing; he kept the same hairstyle for years.

His long, dark hair fell down to his shoulders and dropped behind his back, and his D-shaped glasses were the exact same.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Reagan?" I stepped forward and called out.

This caught his attention as he turned his head in my direction. At that moment, a student walked past him, briefly obscuring my view.

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