Divorced By My Wife, The System Made Me A Trillionaire!

Chapter 2

Twenty million.

Arthur stared at the number. His lips moved but no sound came out.

Twenty. Million. Dollars.

"If this is a joke," he said, his voice cracking, "if this is some sick, twisted joke, I swear to God I will—"

He couldn't get the words out. An image had flashed in his mind - his mother lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and machines.

Just last week, she'd given him a weak smile and whispered, "Don't worry about me, baby" - a moment that was still etched in his memory.

The thought of her, fragile and unwell, was all he could see, and it had left him speechless.

His finger hovered over the glowing [ACCEPT] button.

"...Please," he breathed. " Please be real."

He pressed it.

For one second, nothing happened.

Then his phone buzzed.

It was his phone, with the cracked screen he'd been putting up with for years. And on that battered screen, he saw a very real and very physical message - a bank notification, staring him right in the face.

He looked down.

[FIRST NATIONAL BANK]

[Deposit Received: $20,000,000.00]

[New Balance: $20,000,312.00]

[Transaction ID: ICS-0001-HOST]

Arthur stopped breathing.

He stared at the number. Blinked. Stared again. The number didn't change. Twenty million. Twenty million and three hundred and twelve dollars. His money. In his account. Real.

His phone almost slipped from his fingers.

"WHAT THE—"

The sound of his voice was so loud that it caught the attention of a woman who was walking her dog a couple of blocks away, and she actually stopped and turned around to see what was going on.

"WHAT THE F*CK!"

He grabbed his hair with both hands. Pulled. Looked at the phone again. Still there. Still real. Twenty million dollars. In his account. Right now. In the rain.

"No way. No way, no way, no way—" His voice pitched up, cracking, breaking. He was laughing and crying at the same time, rain mixing with tears on his face. " Twenty million. Twenty f*cking million. Oh my God. Oh my God."

He glanced up at the screen, its blue glow still hovering in the air before him, serene and unchanging.

[Welcome, Host.]

[Your reign begins now.]

Moments later,Arthur pushed through the emergency ward doors, soaking wet, his cheap shoes squeaking against the linoleum. His jacket dripped onto the floor with every step.

The reception desk had two nurses sitting behind it. One of them, Nurse Patricia, was quite tall and probably in her mid-forties - you could tell by the lines on her face and the way she carried herself.

She had a name tag on, which made it easy to know who she was. The other nurse was a lot younger, and she seemed kind of distracted, chewing gum and scrolling through her phone at the same time.

When Patricia looked up, her eyes scanned Arthur from head to toe, taking in his soaked jacket, his scuffed shoes, and the plastic bag he was holding in his hand.

She seemed to be trying to figure out what his story was, and her gaze was pretty intense.

Her lip curled.

She sank back into her chair, a sly smile creeping across her face.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" she said, her voice oozing with sarcasm. The little guy, all by himself, looking totally lost. So, what's going on, huh? Did the wife kick you out, or did you just forget your lunch on the counter? “

She lifted an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with amusement, as she waited for him to say something.

"Come on, spill the beans," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm all ears."

The young nurse let out a snort, basically dismissing the whole thing, and then she looked up, her eyes narrowing a bit as she stared at Arthur.

"Wait a minute," she said, pausing to blow a bubble with her gum. "Isn't this the same guy who can't even take care of himself without his wife's help? I mean, she's always doing everything for him, right? I've heard she gives him a monthly allowance, like he's some kind of kid or something. And get this, it's only $500! That's insane. My dog gets more than that to spend on treats and toys, and he's a lot more responsible with his money than this guy is."

She let out a loud, genuine laugh.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, sounding amused and a little sarcastic at the same time. "You can barely afford to park, let alone pay a hospital bill. Did your wife tell you to come and beg for help? Maybe if you beg on your knees and cry a bit, someone will feel sorry for you and give you some money."

Arthur didn't utter a single word, he simply got up and walked over to the counter to settle his bill.

While he was waiting, he pulled out his phone - maybe to check the time, or perhaps just to take his mind off things.

“I need to pay my mother's hospital bill. Her name is Eleanor Vance, she's in room 412, and the total comes out to be forty-seven thousand.”

Patricia blinked. Then laughed harder.

The nurse's voice was thick with sarcasm as she said, "Oh, that's just great." She turned to the younger nurse, her tone dripping with contempt. "This guy is willing to pay $47,000, and he's basically a handyman for his mother-in-law - you know, just doing odd jobs for some extra pocket money."

Her eyes locked back onto Arthur, a patronizing smile spreading across her face -

“Honey, why don't you just head on home and come back when your wife is willing to let you use her credit card?"

Arthur set his phone on the counter, then opened the banking app and clicked on the option to transfer money.

The screen lit up.

$47,000.00 — TRANSFER COMPLETE.

Patricia's smile froze.

The younger nurse stopped chewing.

The receipt printer suddenly sprang into action, spitting out a long, curling strip of paper that confirmed the payment had been made in full.

Silence.

Patricia stared at the receipt. Stared at Arthur. Stared at the receipt again. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"That's— that's not—"

"Is everything okay?" Arthur said, his voice really calm. "I've already paid, so can you please make sure my mom is alright?"

Before Patricia could stammer a response, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

A man in a white coat appeared, flanked by two assistants. Silver hair. Sharp jaw. A gold pen clipped to his breast pocket.

Dr. Whitmore. The director.

Arthur stepped forward. " Doctor. I just paid the full amount. Forty-seven thousand. My mother's surgery—"

Dr. Whitmore raised a hand, but he didn't even glance at Arthur, his gaze was fixed on the clipboard he was holding, his attention completely absorbed in what was written there.

He spoke in a polite tone, but it was clear he'd already written Mr. Vance off.

"I'm aware of the payment," he said, his voice firm, yet distant. "However, I'm afraid we can't do the surgery tonight," he added, his words leaving no room for debate.

The decision was final, and that was all there was to it. His manner was courteous, but it was obvious his mind was made up, and there would be no changing it.

Arthur's chest tightened. " What do you mean you can't proceed?"

"You know, we've got a really big deal patient on the east wing - one of the big cheeses on our hospital's board, and they need the best of the best to take care of them, pronto. “

Dr. Whitmore didn't even bother to give Arthur a second glance, just a quick flick of the eyes and that was it.

“Look, I'm afraid your mom's procedure is going to have to take a backseat for now,” he said with a shrug. “It might happen tomorrow, or who knows, maybe even the day after that.”

His expression was kind of apologetic.

“Sorry, kid, but these things are just beyond my pay grade,' he said with a dismissive wave of his hand."

He turned to leave.

Arthur's jaw clenched. His fists tightened at his sides.

The blue screen just suddenly popped up out of nowhere, right in his face, but weirdly, nobody else around him seemed to notice it was even there.

[New Mission Detected!]

[Purchase: St. Mary's Hospital]

[Market Value: $20,000,000]

[Host Balance: $20,010,000]

[Remaining after purchase: $10,000]

[Accept? YES / NO]

Arthur stared at the screen.

He will lost everything, twenty million dollars, all of it, vanished in an instant, with just one tap.

He thought of his mother. Then pressed

YES.

[Ding! Transaction Complete.]

[St. Mary's Hospital is now under Host's ownership.]

[New Balance: $10,000]

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Dr. Whitmore's phone rang.