Johnny didn’t look back as he stepped into the building.He didn’t need to.He could still feel the caretaker standing there, frozen, mouth hanging open like something. Johnny heard the door close behind him, the sound dull and familiar. Too familiar.The hallway smelled the same.Old cleaning liquid. Dust. Something damp that never really went away no matter how many times they tried to scrub it out. The lights flickered once, then steadied, buzzing softly overhead.Johnny paused.For a second, his body reacted before his mind did. His shoulders tensed. His steps slowed. A part of him expected someone to shout his name, to complain, to remind him of something he’d done wrong.Nothing happened.He exhaled and kept walking.Each step down the narrow hallway felt like stepping backward in time. The carpet was thin and worn, darker in places where too many feet had passed over the same spots. The walls were scuffed with old marks that no one bothered to paint over anymore.A young tenant

The caretaker let out a strange sound—half laugh, half cough.“You’re joking,” he said weakly. “This has to be a joke.”Johnny didn’t answer him.The owner’s calm expression finally cracked. Not into anger—but into disbelief.“You’re serious,” he said slowly.Johnny nodded.“I am.”The caretaker shook his head rapidly. “No. No, no, no. This is impossible. You think money is a joke? Eight hundred million dollars isn’t something you say lightly!”Johnny slipped his phone from his pocket.The caretaker’s breath caught.The owner watched closely now, eyes narrowing, heart clearly pounding beneath his calm surface.Johnny unlocked his phone.He didn’t rush.He didn’t smile.He simply waited, and asked again“Check or transfer?”And the silence in the lobby grew heavier by the second.The silence after Johnny’s question this time felt heavier than anything he had said before.The caretaker—who had been laughing just seconds ago—stared at Johnny like the man had suddenly started speaking anot

The words hovered in front of him, bright and obscene, like someone had carved them straight into his vision.John didn’t move. His jaw tightened.Then something twisted.“What the fuck!”…[HOT ASSIGNMENT ALERT]Task: Engage in passionate sex with Margaret GraceReward: Mystery Reward Box...For a moment, his mind went eerily quiet.Johnny didn’t breathe.Not because he was stunned.Because his body forgot how.The restaurant noise—cutlery, low voices, the faint hum of music—slid out of focus, like someone had reached into his head and twisted the volume knob down.He read it again, slower this time, as if patience alone might expose the punchline.Engage in passionate sex.With who?With Margaret Grace.A sharp breath pushed out through his nose. His fingers curled once, slow and deliberate, like he was testing whether they’d shake.His jaw locked so hard it ached.“Who the fuck is Margret Grace even?”The question didn’t even come with curiosity. Just irritation. The kind that burn

“You’ll regret this!”The voice cracked through the restaurant like something breaking.Johnny didn’t turn immediately. He was still looking down at the man on the floor, still measuring his breathing, still deciding if he had used too much force or just enough.“You hear me?” the man shouted again as security grabbed him under the arms.“You’ll regret this! When I win Pantheon Valley’s Got Talent—when I take the twenty million dollar prize—I’ll come back for you! I’ll make sure you see hell!”People shifted in their seats.Some rolled their eyes.Some whispered.Twenty million.It sounded big when shouted. It sounded childish when paired with blood running from a split lip.Johnny finally looked up as they dragged him toward the exit. The man twisted, still trying to look powerful even as his feet scraped across the floor.“You’re finished!” he barked. “Both of you!”The door opened. Cold air rushed in. Then it shut.Silence followed. Thick. Awkward.No one clapped. No one cheered.Th

“My name is Margaret… Margaret Grace.”Johnny didn’t pull his hand away fast.He didn’t move at all.The name settled in his chest like something heavy and cold.Margaret Grace.He had seen it before.Not on a phone. Not on a list. Not on social media.Floating.Bright.Attached to a task he never asked for.His stomach turned, his head spinning, but the world did not stop.That was the problem.Plates still clinked.Someone laughed at another table.A waiter passed by with a tray of drinks.Nothing dramatic happened.But inside Johnny—Something tore.Margaret Grace.No.No, no, no.His fingers went cold.He let go of her hand too fast.She noticed.Her smile faltered, her massive tits shifting as she leaned forward slightly, the neckline of her dress dipping lower to show more of her soft, pale curves. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.Johnny blinked.He didn’t answer.He couldn’t.Because in his head, the translucent screen flickered back into existence.…[Hot Assignment Reminder