After Being Humiliated, I Awaken An Infinite Spending System

3

Caleb stopped breathing. "A permanent freeze? I just got the money. How could I lose it now? No way."

He quickly read the red text appearing on the screen.

[Mission 1: Humiliate someone who once looked down on you.]

[Mission 2: Cause massive public envy.]

Caleb stared at the two simple missions.

Slowly, the deep pain in his broken ribs and his bleeding nose faded into the background. His total shock instantly hardened into a cold, dark satisfaction.

"Humiliate someone? Cause envy? Nice..."

Vivid images flashed through his mind... Chloe's disgusted face when she looked at his cheap clothes. Julian Vance's arrogant smirk when he stepped on the luxury bag in the mud, and the rich students laughing at him while he was brutally beaten on the pavement.

For four years, he tried to be the good guy. He gave everything to a woman who treated him like absolute dirt. But now, the rules had completely changed. The very people who ruined his life were about to become his primary source of system income.

"Challenge accepted," Caleb whispered, a dark, dangerous smile forming on his bloody lips.

[SWOOSH-SWOOSH-SWOOSH!]

A heavy, chopping roar suddenly echoed through the dark night sky, cutting off his thoughts. It was so incredibly loud it completely drowned out the sound of the heavy rain.

The wind whipped up fiercely in the narrow alley. Old newspapers, plastic bags and wet trash flew into the air like a localized tornado, swirling around his legs.

Caleb looked up, shielding his eyes with his bruised arm.

A huge, sleek, stealth-black luxury helicopter descended rapidly from the heavy storm clouds and hovered dangerously low... just a few dozen feet above the dirty alleyway walls.

There were no registration markings, no logos, and no lights on the chopper... it looked like a solid shadow floating in the sky.

The side door of the helicopter slid open smoothly, revealing a warm golden light inside the cabin.

A man dressed in a flawless, perfectly tailored black tuxedo leaned out into the storm. He did not wear a communication headset nor say a single word to Caleb below. He simply held out a heavy, brushed-titanium case attached to a small, heavy-duty black parachute.

Then he dropped it. The parachute opened for just a single second, slowing the rapid fall.

The heavy metal case landed with a soft...

[Thud]

...right at Caleb's wet, ruined sneakers.

The tuxedo man gave a short, polite bow from the open door. Then, the helicopter instantly surged back up into the sky. It disappeared into the dark storm clouds as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the alley in total silence once again.

Caleb stood frozen for a second, staring at the case.

He slowly knelt down on the wet floor, his joints popping from the movement. His bloody fingers unlatched the two heavy metal locks on the titanium case.

[Click. Click.]

He opened the lid.

Inside, resting on a thick bed of premium red velvet, was a single card... a sleek, unbranded Black Card made of solid, heavy meteorite alloy.

It gleamed with a dark, dangerous metallic light under the alley's flickering streetlights.

There were no credit card numbers on it. There was no expiration date. Just a dark, starry pattern etched deeply into the heavy metal.

Caleb reached out and picked it up.

It was heavy... much heavier than any normal plastic credit card. It felt incredibly cold and powerful in his palm.

The system pinged one last time, the blue screen glowing brighter.

[Funds are ready, Host. Go make them cry.]

With the heavy meteorite Black Card burning a hole in his wet pocket, he walked straight through the freezing rain toward the center of the city's financial district.

He stopped in front of a massive, glowing glass building... the most exclusive, high-end restaurant in the entire city. 

The Crown Diner.

It was the exact same place Caleb had tried to enter a year ago to beg for a dishwashing job, only to be violently thrown out into the street by the staff for "ruining the aesthetic."

Tonight, the aesthetic was about to change.

Caleb pushed open the heavy glass doors.

The warm, golden light of the restaurant hit his bloody face while the air smelled of white truffles, expensive wine and burning cedar.

He stepped onto the pristine white marble floor. His taped-up sneakers left muddy, bloody footprints behind him while cold rainwater dripped from his torn clothes.

The lively chatter in the elegant lobby died instantly.

Wealthy patrons in evening gowns and tailored suits turned to stare at him in absolute disgust.

"What is that awful smell?" a woman gasped.

"Is this a joke? Where is security?!" a man in a tuxedo yelled.

A tall man in a tailored silver suit rushed over. It was Mr. Sterling, the general manager. 

His face twisted in deep anger the second he recognized the factory worker.

"You!" Mr. Sterling pointed a sharp finger at Caleb's chest. "I remember you. I told you last year that trash like you belongs in the alley. Get out before I have my guards break your legs!"

Two massive security guards immediately stepped forward, cracking their knuckles.

Caleb did not flinch nor step back.

Instead, he calmly reached into his wet pocket and pulled out the heavy, starry-black meteorite card.

[Clack]

He tossed it carelessly onto the pristine marble reception desk. The heavy metal card made a loud, solid sound that echoed in the quiet lobby.

"I am not here to eat," Caleb said. His voice was cold, echoing with a dark authority. "I am here to buy the restaurant."

The lobby was dead silent for a full second.

Then, Mr. Sterling burst into a loud, mocking laughter. The security guards chuckled with him.

"Buy the restaurant?" Mr. Sterling wiped a tear from his eye. "You dirty beggar, do you have brain damage? This restaurant is worth thirty million dollars! That fake piece of metal won't even buy you a glass of table water."

Caleb looked at him with dead eyes. "Swipe it. Fifty million. Keep the change. If it clears, the owner signs the papers over to me tonight."

Mr. Sterling stopped laughing and glared at Caleb's cold, unshaken eyes.

"Fine," Mr. Sterling sneered, grabbing the metal card. "I will swipe it. And when it declines, I am going to have the guards beat you until you cannot walk."

Mr. Sterling shoved the heavy Black Card into the VIP payment terminal, furiously typed in $50,000,000.00 and hit enter, crossing his arms to wait for the loud beep of a declined card.