A few minutes later, a gold custom Rolls-Royce La Rose Noire drove out of the BlueBird Hotels, veering onto the highway. Jack, Margaret, and his personal assistant, Jane, sat silently in the car. Obviously, they had other things on their mind and couldn't spare the time to chat.Brandon, on the other hand, was focused on driving. As an introverted person, he talked less and focused more on taking action. As a professional driver, his driving was perfect and he swerved through the traffic fluidly.“You've called the police, right?” Jack asked, tilting his head toward Jane who was sitting at the front.“Yes, Sir,” she replied. “They should be on their way in a few minutes.”‘Huh?’ Margaret’s jaw dropped, her eyes drifting across Jack's and Jane's faces. What were they talking about? And why was the police involved? Weren't they headed to the new mansion Jack bought?“That's good,” Jack said, nodding satisfactorily. Then, he fell silent.Margaret expected him to explain things to her, bu

An hour later, Jack sat on a couch in the living room, his eyes transfixed on the servants standing in front of him. Jane had already dealt with everything for him, making sure the press and the police left the premises. She was still running about, putting things in place, so she wasn't around. Margaret sat beside him, her eyes fixated on her brother. Her meek and powerless brother had become violent and powerful, all of a sudden. It was a change she couldn't quite place her head around… a drastic leap in his behavior. “Is this… all?” Jack soon spoke, twirling his index finger in the air. “Yes… Sir,” one of the servants replied, his voice trembling. He was a bearded man in his thirties, eyes filled with a youthful twinkle. He seemed like the type who had seen many things—the type who kept secrets. “Well, the number seems too small for someone who loved galavanting,” he said, his eyes drifting to the man. The man gulped, his eyes fixated on the floor. “We were thirty employees in

The cold wind felt soothing to Jack's skin, as he awaited the System's response. What could the rewards be? And how would they benefit him in the long run?As a former financial consultant, he'd always believed in long-term strategies. As a result, he disliked mingling with short-sighted people—ones who never saw the bigger picture. And that included his boss, whom he had no choice but to work with…[The Trillionaire System is glad the Host has finally stopped roleplaying a dominant master with a powerful aura.]“You really didn't have to say that,” Jack said, his eyes drifting around to see if someone was watching.Just as he'd realized, he could communicate with the system mentally. But, he didn't want to do that. He wanted to learn how to communicate with others perfectly, maintaining a calm tone. And who could help him achieve this, if not for the System with a vile personality?[I'll have to warn you now. The Trillionaire System does not have a personality, much less a vile one.

Two hours earlier…The matte black Bentley Continental GT Mulliner slid into the parking lot, its engine revving softly. As it approached, the crystal-cut LED headlights splintered the shimmering light like fractured diamonds. It slowly came to a halt, sitting under the club’s neon awning like a chasm in the night. Its velvet-textured paint swallowed the city's glare, until the car looked less like a vehicle and more like a solid iron beast.The valet hesitated, afraid to touch the car's handle. His eyes were fixated on the ‘Double Diamond's grille, a silver-on-black matrix of interlocking chainmail… it gave the car a heavy, armoured stare that bore into his heart.Eventually, he pulled over and saw her sitting at the driver's side. Again, his eyes drifted to the car… not by choice. He could see the 22-inch wheels gleaming with self-leveling center badges that kept the Bentley ‘B’ perfectly upright, a silent promise of stability in the coming chaos.“It feels good to be here again,” J