Chapter 43 — Even Tony Thinks Frank Is Pure Garbage
Outside the Milkovich house.
Several police cars arrived at the same time.
Frank had already been waiting there for a while.
A moment later, a family sedan pulled up beside him.
"You're Frank? The one who called me?"
"Oh~ you must be poor little Casey's devastated father."
Frank, despite being a degenerate, truly had the gift of speech.
His words came out smooth and emotional, like he'd practiced the lines in front of a mirror.
But Casey's father had no patience for theatrics.
He only cared about one thing:
"Where is Casey?"
"Sir, I know how worried you are… but we already discussed this over the phone."
One look at Frank—smelling like liquor and filth—
and Casey's father immediately understood:
Frank wanted money.
He didn't argue.
He simply took out his wallet, counted several Franklins, and handed them over.
The bills were barely in Frank's fingers before his face lit up like Christmas morning.
"This is true paternal love~"
After securing his "donation," Frank didn't bother milking it further.
He simply pointed at the Milkovich house.
"Casey's in there. I saw it with my own eyes."
"Frank, accusing someone like this isn't a joke.
If we don't find Casey inside, you know what kind of trouble you'll be in, right?"
Tony stepped forward, staring Frank down.
As Fiona's lifelong simp,
Tony was painfully aware of what kind of human trash Frank was.
His biggest fear was that Frank made up the story just to scam money.
"Tony, I swear to God! I saw Casey go inside the house! With my own two eyes!"
Frank put on his most pitiful, wounded expression.
And as if on cue…
The front door of the Milkovich house swung open.
Ian stepped out.
Carrying a blond toddler.
He froze when he saw the police.
And just like that—
case closed.
Suspect, victim, and evidence all appeared in one neat package.
Tony turned to Ian in disbelief, then glared back at Frank.
"What—!? Even if it's Ian, this is still a crime! I'm a law-abiding citizen!"
Not a single soul believed Frank's nonsense.
Tony felt nauseous just looking at him.
"Frank, you're a piece of shit. Literally."
Even soft-tempered Tony couldn't hold back anymore.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Frank said, smiling shamelessly.
"So… I can leave now, officer?"
With the money in hand, Frank felt confident again.
He finally had what he needed to move forward with his plan—
and even solve his "body problem" to keep the Ginger pension scheme going.
Money made everything easier.
"Thank you! Thank you so much, Mr. Gallagher!"
Casey's father said sincerely, nearly in tears.
"It's what any decent man would do.
I'm the father of six myself.
I know exactly what it feels like to lose a child."
Frank's self-righteous lecture made Tony physically ill.
"Get the hell out of here, Frank," Tony muttered in disgust.
Meanwhile, the other officers had already cuffed Ian.
And from inside the house, Lip and Debbie were brought out as well.
Lip and Ian both in handcuffs.
Debbie — too young — was held tightly by a female officer instead.
And Frank?
He happily walked away, humming,
counting his money
as his three children were shoved into police cars behind him.
Not even a flicker of guilt crossed his face.
---
"William… are you free tomorrow night?"
Amanda looked up at him nervously.
She had finally gathered enough courage to ask him out.
Now she stood there, heart hammering,
waiting for a sentence that could either crush her
or make her whole week.
America liked to shout about freedom—
but in reality, it was white America that enjoyed it.
Even why her adoptive father took in an Asian daughter…
she never believed it was out of love.
He needed her.
A prop.
Proof that he was "pro-diversity,"
the perfect accessory to signal his Democratic allegiance.
In a deep-blue state like Illinois,
if you didn't cozy up to the Democrats,
you weren't going anywhere.
Seeing Amanda standing there, nervous and unsure,
William nodded.
"I'm free. Why? Planning to ask me out?"
Amanda swallowed hard, gathering courage.
"Tomorrow night, I… I…"
She froze.
She had asked him out,
but hadn't thought far enough to decide where she wanted to take him.
The blank panic on her face hit instantly.
She regretted everything.
William noticed the awkwardness but didn't push.
After all—
he was very interested in Amanda too.
The system's usual bullshit made him almost certain:
there was a 99.9% chance this girl carried some kind of superpower reward.
"How about this?
I'll handle the plans tomorrow."
Amanda brightened instantly and nodded lightly.
Just then, William's phone began to ring.
The caller ID displayed:
Gallagher House — Public Phone
Could be Fiona.
Could be Lip.
But Amanda was notoriously jealous.
Otherwise she wouldn't later expose Lip and his professor.
William ended the conversation quickly:
"Alright then, it's settled. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."
Amanda didn't suspect anything.
After she walked off, William finally answered the call.
"William, where are you?
Can you come to the police station?"
Fiona's voice cracked—
she sounded like she was seconds away from choking on her own sobs.
William immediately understood:
Debbie's incident had blown up.
And honestly?
He was thrilled.
But he kept his tone gentle, concerned:
"What's wrong? Slow down—tell me what happened.
Why are you at the police station?"
Seeing William as her last lifeline,
Fiona didn't hide anything.
She told him everything—
Lip, Ian, and Debbie
had all been arrested.
William's expression lit up like fireworks.
Holy hell, this escalated way better than expected.
The worse Fiona broke down,
the faster he could "reshape" her.
Once Fiona was completely rebuilt…
he'd gain [Bullet Time],
basically supernatural Keanu Reeves mode.
Outwardly, he spoke in a steady, warm tone:
"Stay at the station.
I'm coming right now.
Don't worry—everything will be fine."
Fiona steadied slightly at the sound of his voice.
After hanging up, William smirked.
[Ding!
Mission Complete: Give Debbie a lesson she'll never forget.
Reward: Russian Language Mastery.]
A flood of language knowledge hit him—
instantly boosting his Russian to native Slavic grumpy-grandfather levels.
"Didn't expect Lip and Ian to get scooped up too.
This might be fun."
With that thought, William hopped onto his BMW S1000RR.
MotoGP champion-level reflexes made the machine feel like an extension of his own body.
He flicked the throttle—
Executed a gorgeous drift on campus,
drawing gasps from nearby students.
Then disappeared off the Illinois Tech grounds in a blur.