Chapter 79: Chapter 70: Breaking Free from the Kill Line (Part 2)

If it weren’t for Susan letting Don Quixote stay in his current house for free, rent would have likely taken another quarter of his income.

After factoring in the medical insurance he planned to buy, plus utilities, internet, and phone bills, Don Quixote estimated that he would only have about 3,000 USD more in disposable income compared to his previous after-tax earnings of 3,500 USD.

Still, this was a huge step forward!

It meant Don Quixote had finally escaped that damned Alice line! He had good health insurance, a proper job, and had rejoined normal society. Most importantly, he could finally save money! He could finally afford to see a doctor!

"Congratulations!" Li Wei said, genuinely happy for him. "You can finally breathe a sigh of relief."

"It’s alright, I guess," Don Quixote said with false modesty. "This is actually less than what I made in my first year in the investment banking division at JPMorgan Chase, right after graduating from the University of Chicago 20 years ago. My starting annual salary was 200,000 USD before taxes."

"You were that much of a hotshot?" Li Wei asked in surprise.

"Hmph!" Don Quixote snorted. "Your Uncle here was the youngest VP (Vice President) in JPMorgan Chase’s investment banking division. I made ED (Executive Director) by the time I was 30."

The job titles in investment banking are notoriously inflated. Even though it’s called "VP," it’s really just a corporate drone two ranks above an analyst. An ED is a mid-to-senior level drone, one step above a VP.

"Those were my glory days," Don Quixote said, getting lost in his memories. "I remember it clearly. The day after my 30th birthday, I passed my review and was promoted to ED. Do you have any idea how much I was making?"

He drunkenly made a hand gesture. "800,000 USD! A year! Even after a 45% tax cut, I was taking home over 40,000 USD a month! I didn’t even bother driving my own car back then. I took cabs everywhere, flew first-class, and only stayed in five-star international hotels."

That was 800,000 USD fifteen years ago. In today’s money, that’s at least a million-dollar salary to start.

"And meals, too," Don Quixote chuckled. "You know, one of the perks of working in investment banking is that you never pay when you take people out to eat. You can get reimbursed for any restaurant, no matter how expensive."

"So, for us in the IB division, at least 70% of our meals every week were at Michelin-starred restaurants. The excuse was always ’client entertainment,’" he said. "And the company? They didn’t really care. It was an unwritten rule of the industry."

"One time, I took a client to this little place he loved as a kid. The bill for the two of us was just over 200 USD," he said, starting to laugh so hard that tears welled up in his eyes. "When I submitted the expense report, the guy in accounting frowned at the receipt for the longest time. Do you know what he said?"

"What?" Li Wei asked.

"’Because the two of you only spent a little over 200 USD. It’s too cheap.’" He roared with laughter. "So it doesn’t meet the company’s guidelines for client entertainment, so it can’t be reimbursed! Hahahaha! Fack! A three-star Michelin restaurant at over 400 USD a head gets approved without a problem, but a cheaper place at just over 100 a head can’t be expensed because it’s *too cheap*..."

As he spoke, he took another huge gulp of beer.

He reached for another can, only to find with disappointment that he’d only bought a twelve-pack this time, and it was already empty.

"I... I’ll go buy some more," he said, staggering to his feet. "We’re celebrating... Let’s drink some more..."

But Li Wei stopped him.

"What about that champagne I brought back?" he asked. "That’s the good stuff. Did you finish it?"

Don Quixote shook his head, looking dazed.

After helping him onto the sofa, Li Wei rummaged through the fridge and pulled out the half-full bottle of champagne he’d brought back from the consignment shop.

Since they didn’t have any champagne flutes, Li Wei just found two paper cups and poured the champagne into them.

"This moment deserves a real celebration," he said. "To the first step of your comeback. Cheers!"

"Ch... cheers!" Don Quixote slurred. "I’m really happy today, you know?"

"I’m really happy today. I mean it," he repeated. "You know... when that bitch threw me out, I told myself... I... I’m going to take back everything that’s mine. I thought... ’I’m fucking better than those losers who can’t even get into community college, right?’"

Li Wei realized that Don Quixote wasn’t so much talking to him as he was muttering to himself.

"But it’s so hard, Li Wei. It’s just so damn hard. An individual’s efforts are so powerless against the currents of fate and society," he said, deflated. "I wanted to get back on my feet, but I just couldn’t... At first, I was living out of my Mercedes—it was the first car I bought after I started working. Then I realized that without a fixed address, I couldn’t even find a fucking job... Later, I sold the Mercedes because I couldn’t afford it. I only managed to find some stability when I was living in a basement."

"I have experience at a top-tier bank. I graduated from a prestigious university," he said, his tone attempting to be light. "But so what? Does a degree from the University of Chicago help you haul two extra bricks? ’Why should I pay you more? Just because you know how to eat escargot with more elegance?’"

As he spoke, Don Quixote’s eyes grew red again.

He choked up and repeated for the third time, "I’m really happy today. I really am. I can get back on my feet—I’m going to prove it to everyone! I can do it! I have to fight to redeem my honor!"

He took another swig of champagne and suddenly started cursing loudly.

"And that Julian! He’s a fucking idiot! Did you see his attitude toward me? Did you see the way he looked at you?" he roared, spittle flying onto the table. "If I were still his boss! If I was still his direct superior! Would he dare say no? Would he dare question you?"

"What right does he have to question my nephew?! My own family! Right in front of me!" He completely burst, like a gaunt, old lion. "Who is he putting on that phony act for? Acting like it’s so fucking hard! It was just a letter of recommendation! He was doing it on purpose to mock me! Mocking me for having to sell my blood to afford some stupid 800-USD pen—and him going on about ’collector’s grade’ Macallan. Back in my day, I used Macallan as mouthwash!"

"What’s past is past," Li Wei said, comforting him. "Things will get better from now on. You’ll definitely end up doing better than he is."

After the burst, Don Quixote seemed to lose all his strength, slowly slumping onto the sofa.

"Yeah... what’s past is past," he murmured, his eyes closing. "At least I never crossed the line... I didn’t steal, I didn’t rob, I committed no crimes, I tried to help people... I’ll definitely get into heaven, right?"

His voice grew fainter and fainter, until it was nearly inaudible.

"Wait a minute!" Li Wei said, alarmed. "You shouldn’t say things like that."

But Don Quixote didn’t respond.

This startled Li Wei. Just as he leaned in closer, a snore erupted from Don Quixote.

Li Wei breathed a sigh of relief, went to his room for a blanket, and draped it over him.

He quickly cleaned up the mess, went back to his room, and resumed studying for his other AP courses.

An unknown amount of time passed before a rustling sound came from downstairs.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Li Wei said in surprise as he headed downstairs. "He’s that drunk and he’s still not settled down."

In the moonlight, Don Quixote stood fully dressed in his armor once again.

This time, however, he was swaying and hiccuping drunkenly.

"M-My friend!" he said. "I can’t control my body!"

His voice grew more frantic as he spoke, and he nearly stumbled and fell.

"I can’t keep my balance—I’ve been cursed!" he cried in a panic, steadying himself against the wall. "I’ve been struck by the Witch’s curse!"