After Being Humiliated, I Awaken An Infinite Spending System

8

The caller ID showed his father’s name: 

Dad

Julian swallowed hard and pressed answer. 

"D-Dad..."

"You worthless, arrogant idiot!" Thomas Vance’s voice screamed through the speaker so loudly that even the surrounding socialites could hear it. "What did you do at the Central Luxury Plaza?! The video of you being dragged out like a stray dog is everywhere! The board of directors is panicking!"

Julian’s blood turned to liquid ice. "Dad, I can explain..."

"There is nothing to explain!" Thomas roared, his voice trembling with terrifying anger. "Because of your public disgrace, the Vance Group’s public stock has just plummeted by twelve percent in fifteen minutes! We have lost four hundred million dollars in market value before the closing bell! Our investors think our family is losing control of the city!"

"Four... four hundred million?" Julian muttered, his phone slipping slightly from his fingers.

"Get your pathetic ass back to the estate right now!" Thomas barked. "If you don't fix this reputation crisis, I will personally strip you of your inheritance and throw you out!"

[Click.]

The line went dead.

Julian stood frozen in the middle of the pavement, the mockery of the live-streamers echoing in his ears. 

In a single afternoon, his untouchable status, pride, and entire family's financial stability had been pushed to the edge of a cliff.

And it was all because of one man.

Chloe crawled over, grabbing the edge of Julian's dusty trousers. "Julian... please, we have to do something. Caleb can't do this to us. He's just garbage from the slums!"

"Shut up!" Julian screamed, violently kicking his leg back to break free from her grip.

He turned his head slowly, glaring up at the master office windows of the Central Luxury Plaza. His eyes were wide, bloodshot and completely consumed by a dark, psychotic madness.

He dug his fingernails into his palms until the skin split, drawing fresh crimson blood that dripped onto the concrete.

"Caleb..." Julian whispered, his voice shaking with a deadly, poisonous malice. "You think your money makes you a king in this city? You think you can ruin my family and walk away?"

He took a deep breath, raising his bloody fist toward the building, swearing an absolute blood oath before the entire recording crowd.

"I swear upon the Vance bloodline... I don't care how many billions you have. I will hire the darkest underground syndicates in this country. I will tear that suit off your body, break every single bone in your legs and make you watch as I take back everything you stole from me. I will destroy you completely, Caleb! Even if it's the last thing I ever do!"

High above the plaza, behind the tinted glass of the master office, Caleb looked down at the screaming heir.

His perfect memory recorded every movement of Julian's frantic rage, and his advanced negotiation skills easily read the absolute desperation in the billionaire's posture.

Caleb didn't flinch nor worry. He simply reached into his pocket, pulled out the Black Card and let out a cold, amused chuckle.

"A blood oath?" Caleb whispered, turning away from the window as the clock ticked closer to evening. "Good. Let's see if your underground friends have enough spite to pay for my next upgrade."

...

The heavy, soundproofed doors of the Mingle Club glided open, releasing a thick cloud of aromatic cigar smoke and the faint, haunting melody of a music.

This was not a normal nightclub. 

Located four floors beneath the city's central financial district, it was a sprawling, subterranean palace of dark mahogany, velvet curtains and dim golden lighting. 

There were no flashing neon lights here—only the quiet, terrifying aura of absolute authority.

"Keep your eyes straight ahead," a smooth, seductive voice whispered beside Caleb.

It was the mysterious woman who had sent the encrypted message. 

She called herself Victoria. 

She wore a backless crimson silk dress that contrasted sharply with her porcelain skin, and her dark eyes held a dangerous, calculating intelligence.

"The people in this room do not exist on public tax registries, Caleb," Victoria murmured, casually swirling a glass of dark amber liquor. "You are looking at the hidden puppet masters of this city. Ruthless crime lords who control the shipping docks, tech tycoons who manipulate the public algorithms and corrupt politicians who sign the laws in the dark."

Caleb, dressed in his flawless new custom suit, walked with a slow, heavy stride. 

Thanks to his Peak Human Physique, he stood a head taller than most men in the room, his posture radiating the natural dominance of a predator.

As they walked toward a grand, circular table at the center of the room, Victoria leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a barely audible breath.

"They have been watching your sudden, erratic rise. They think you are a chaotic wildcard. But to understand how to survive tonight, you must understand the ultimate truth of this city. It is secretly controlled by five ancient, elite families."

Caleb’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Five families?"

"Yes," Victoria nodded, pointing a manicured finger toward the various VIP lounges. "The Graysons control the real estate. The Blackwoods control the underground syndicates. The Sterlings control the media. Thefield [Hale] family controls the shipping lines. And at the absolute bottom of the food chain... the newest and weakest family among them... the Vance family."

Caleb froze for a fraction of a second, a dark, incredibly amused smile spreading across his sharp face.

"The Vance family is the weakest?" Caleb chuckled softly, his voice rich with dark irony.

"By far," Victoria whispered, misinterpreting his smile. "Julian Vance’s father has been desperately trying to buy up local commercial properties like Central Luxury Plaza just to prove they belong at the table. Your little stunt this afternoon didn't just humiliate Julian—it dealt a crippling blow to the Vance family's corporate face. The other four families are secretly laughing at them, but they are also in deeply wary of you."

Before Caleb could reply, the clock on the wall chimed.

[Midnight.]

[BZZZ!]

Caleb felt a familiar, deep vibration inside his pocket. He discreetly glanced down at his phone screen.

[System Notification: Daily Allowance Refresh.]

[Deposit: $100,000,000.00.]

[Current Balance: $120,000,014.23.]

The remaining twenty million from yesterday had rolled over perfectly, stacking with his fresh daily allowance.

With over a hundred and twenty million dollars in cash burning in his account, Caleb stepped into the grand circle of the table.

An older man with sharp, graying hair and an immaculate charcoal suit looked up, his eyes cold as ice.