Rewriting My Billions: Boss of the Hidden realm
I was a billionaire. I was ruthless. But I died totally alone in a crushed sports car.
When I opened my eyes, I was 22, sitting in my crappy college apartment, completely broke. But I wasn't alone. A glowing blue screen was floating right in front of my face.
[Mythic Tycoon System Bound.]
[Current Wealth: $12.00]
[Warning: The corporate world is a literal jungle. Good luck.]
Fate gave me a second chance to build my empire, but the System came with a hilarious catch: I have to be a "Good Boss." If I exploit my workers, my Karma Debt rises and I go bankrupt.
Even crazier? I quickly discovered the modern corporate elite are secretly supernatural monsters hiding in plain sight.
So, to beat them, I decided to hire my own.
My new bodyguard? A 500-year-old vampire who works for minimum wage just so I'll do his taxes.
My lead data analyst? A literal dragon hoarding Bitcoin in the basement server room.
They have the magic. I have the brains, the System, and ten years of future knowledge. Watch me slap the faces of arrogant rich kids, hostile-takeover werewolf packs, and build the most powerful, chaotic monopoly the world has ever seen.
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Chapter: Chapter 8: Caviar, Cheap Suits, and Corporate CrashersThe Grand Atrium of the Astoria Hotel looked exactly how I remembered it from my past life. It was a cavernous, gilded room designed specifically to make poor people feel unwelcome. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, casting a warm, expensive glow over ice sculptures and towers of imported champagne. The room was packed with the city’s elite. Men in five-thousand-dollar tuxedos and women in silk gowns milled about, discussing summer homes and offshore tax havens. And then, there was us. I was wearing a gray suit I had bought off the rack at a discount department store two hours ago. It fit decently enough, but next to the bespoke Italian wool surrounding me, I looked like I was going to a middle school prom. Gideon was still wearing his thrift-store special. It smelled faintly of mothballs. "Boss," Gideon muttered out of the corner of his mouth, his silver eyes darting around the room. "There’s a lot of open necks in here. It’s very distracting.""Eyes f
Last Updated: 2026-10-21
Chapter: Chapter 7: Panic AttacksThe invisible clock in my head was ticking so loud I could practically hear it echoing off the dusty walls. *Eleven hours and fifty-four minutes.* If I didn't generate a million dollars in clean, legal revenue by midnight, my System was going to turn my brain into a frozen vegetable. I paced back and forth across the mustard-yellow carpet, running my hands through my hair. I looked at my team. The fate of my cognitive function rested in the hands of two mythical creatures who had absolutely zero understanding of the modern economy. Damian was slurping neon-green soda out of a two-liter bottle, maintaining unbroken eye contact with his monitor. Gideon was standing by a broken fax machine, poking buttons with a cautious, gloved finger like he expected it to explode. "Okay, listen to me," I barked, clapping my hands to snap them to attention. "Damian, open a new compiler. We are building the 'Thorne Logistics Routing Protocol.' And we are doing it right now."Damian wiped his mouth
Last Updated: 2026-10-21
Chapter: Chapter 6: Dragons, Doritos, and Accidental Cyber-TerrorismI unlocked the heavy glass doors to the fourth floor of Sterling Plaza, pushed them open, and immediately coughed up a cloud of dust. The space was massive, easily ten thousand square feet of prime downtown commercial real estate. It also looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the Clinton administration. The carpet was a tragic shade of faded mustard, and dead fluorescent bulbs flickered overhead like a bad horror movie. Below our feet, a constant, low-frequency hum vibrated through the floorboards. "Ah," I said, flipping a light switch that did absolutely nothing. "Home sweet home."Gideon stepped into the room, holding the lapels of his new thrift-store suit tight against his chest. He looked around with deep, profound disgust. "Boss," Gideon said, wiping a thick layer of grime off a nearby reception desk with a single gloved finger. "This isn't an office. This is a tomb. And I know tombs. I’ve slept in nicer ones in Prague.""It’s one dollar a month, Gideon," I reminded him,
Last Updated: 2026-10-21
Chapter: Chapter 5: Bailing Out A DragonThe yellow cab smelled like stale cigarettes and cheap pine air freshener. Gideon sat in the back seat next to me, his knees pushed awkwardly against the plastic divider. He spent the first ten minutes of the ride staring out the rain-streaked window, watching the city blur past, completely silent. I watched him for a minute. My new Chief of Security was a lethal weapon, but right now, he just looked like a guy who needed a hot meal and a tailor. "So," I said, leaning back against the cracked vinyl seat. "Five hundred years."Gideon didn't turn around. "Give or take a decade. I stopped counting after the French Revolution. Too much paperwork.""How does a guy who survived the Black Plague end up living behind a pawn shop in a trench coat?" I asked. "I mean, look at pop culture. Vampires are supposed to be billionaires living in gothic penthouses."Gideon finally turned his head. He gave me a look of absolute, exhausted misery. "Movies are a lie, Boss," Gideon sighed. "Sure, I used
Last Updated: 2026-10-21
Chapter: Chapter 4: Ethical Face-SlapRichard stared at me. The rain kept falling, pattering against his expensive umbrella, but the silence in the alley was deafening. For a second, I actually saw panic in his eyes. But guys like Richard Sterling were raised to believe that money was a magic wand. If there was a problem, you just threw a stack of cash at it until it went away. His panic melted back into that smug, punchable arrogance. He let out a dry, forced laugh and shook his head. "I get it," Richard chuckled, reaching inside his tailored jacket. "You’re a hustler. You did a little googling, found a rumor about my zoning permits, and now you want a piece of the pie."He pulled out a sleek leather checkbook and a gold-plated fountain pen. "Ten thousand dollars," Richard said, scribbling on the paper. "That’s more money than you’ve ever seen in your miserable life, kid. Take it, leave this neighborhood, and keep your mouth shut about my real estate deals. We never had this conversation."He ripped the check out and
Last Updated: 2026-10-21
Chapter: Chapter 3: Bloodstains Are Not Tax DeductibleGideon stopped walking. He held up his sleeve, inspecting a tiny, almost invisible speck of dust on his oversized trench coat. He let out a dramatic sigh. "You said I get a corporate expense account," the vampire muttered, brushing at the fabric. "Does that cover dry cleaning? Because if I have to throw humans into dumpsters, my wardrobe is going to suffer.”I stopped and looked back at him. My new Chief of Security, a creature that had probably survived the Black Plague, was pouting over a dirty sleeve. "Gideon," I said flatly. "You are wearing a thrift-store coat that smells like wet dog. But yes, once the company is officially incorporated, uniform maintenance is a business expense."His silver eyes lit up. "What about blood?""What about it?""If a hostile entity ruins my shirt with their blood, is the replacement tax deductible?"I pinched the bridge of my nose. "No, Gideon. Bloodstains are not tax deductible. The IRS tends to frown on murder. We are a clean, legitimate enterpr
Last Updated: 2026-10-21
