I Made $1,200 Trillion in 24 Hours

A Billion-Dollar Morning

Chapter 2

Jericho's POV 

The morning sun broke through the dusty window, painting golden streaks across Jericho Matthew’s tiny apartment. He hadn’t slept a wink all night. His laptop still sat open on the desk, its screen dim but alive with silent numbers—proof that what happened last night wasn’t a dream.

Nine hundred trillion dollars. The number glowed in his memory like fire.

Jericho rubbed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “This is real,” he whispered to himself for what felt like the hundredth time. His throat was dry, his heart still racing with disbelief.

He looked at his phone again. His bank app still showed the ten million dollars he’d transferred the night before. The balance blinked at him, as if teasing: You’re not broke anymore.

Jericho had imagined this moment a thousand times—what he’d do if he ever had real money. He used to daydream while mopping floors in Douglas Tech, picturing himself driving a luxury car, eating food that didn’t taste like survival, and finally walking through the city without feeling small.

But now that he had it all, he wasn’t sure what to do first.

He opened the fridge, filled empty except for a half-bottle of water and a leftover slice of bread. He laughed dryly. “Guess trillionaires still get hungry.”

He threw on a gray hoodie, grabbed his wallet, and stepped outside. The air was cool and clean after last night’s rain. The city was waking up—street vendors setting up stalls, workers rushing to catch buses, the smell of fried dough drifting from the roadside.

Jericho walked toward a nearby food stand and ordered two plates of noodles and a cup of hot tea. The vendor, an old man with gray hair and kind eyes, gave him a puzzled look.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the old man said.

Jericho chuckled weakly. “Something like that.”

The man served the food. Jericho ate slowly, savoring the taste of something warm and real. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel like the world was pressing down on his shoulders. He was still trying to process what had happened, but deep inside, something was changing,something powerful.

After breakfast, he went back to his room and turned on the laptop. The mysterious system was still active. This time, the interface had changed. There was a new message flashing in bold letters:

Phase Two: Integration.

AI Investment Network Now Expanding. Estimated Global Coverage: 73%.

Welcome back, Jericho Matthew. Would you like to access your control panel?

Jericho hesitated, then clicked Yes.

The screen shifted into a sleek, dark-blue dashboard showing graphs, world maps, and endless numbers moving at lightning speed. He didn’t understand half of it, but it felt alive, like the system was breathing.

Then another window appeared:

Your Current Balance: $900,000,000,000,000

Daily Earnings Rate: Variable.

Do you wish to withdraw additional funds?

Jericho stared at it, stunned. “Daily earnings rate? You mean this thing… keeps growing?”

He couldn’t resist. “Let’s see how real this gets.”

He typed $50,000,000 and hit Enter.

The robotic voice from before returned, calm and steady:

“Transaction confirmed. Transfer successful.”

His phone pinged almost instantly. He opened his bank app, and there it was $60,000,000. The extra ten million must’ve been a bonus. Jericho laughed out loud, a sound half joy and half disbelief.

“This is insane!” he shouted.

He jumped up and paced around the room, heart racing. “I’m rich. I’m actually rich!”

But after the rush faded, he sat back down, staring at the money like it might explode. “If this is real, people are going to notice soon.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Two hours later, at Douglas Tech, chaos had already started.

“Did you see the news?” one of Jericho’s former co-workers whispered. “Global markets are acting weird again. They said someone moved hundreds of trillions overnight. Can you imagine that kind of money?”

His boss, Mr. Douglas, frowned, sipping his coffee. “That’s impossible. No system could handle that kind of transaction without being noticed.”

“Yeah, well,” the worker said, “the government’s already investigating. They think someone hacked into the world exchange grid.”

Mr. Douglas shook his head, annoyed. “People believe anything these days. Get back to work.”

No one had any idea that the quiet, hardworking man they’d mocked and ignored—the man who used to fetch coffee for the interns—was the very person the world was talking about.

******************

Meanwhile, Jericho sat on his bed, lost in thought. He knew he couldn’t keep the secret forever. Something this big couldn’t stay hidden. But before the world came knocking, he had plans, personal ones.

He opened a new browser tab and started searching for real estate. It felt unreal scrolling through mansions and penthouses when, just yesterday, he couldn’t even afford rent. He found a luxury apartment downtown—glass walls, rooftop pool, private elevator. The price? $22 million.

He smiled. “Let’s start small.”

He clicked Buy.

A minute later, the confirmation email arrived. The property was his. Just like that.

He stood up, heart pounding. “I actually bought a house,” he whispered.

He took a deep breath and laughed quietly. “Jericho Matthew… homeowner. Guess miracles happen.”

But deep inside, he knew this was no ordinary miracle.

The robotic voice spoke again.

 “Congratulations, Jericho Matthew. You’ve completed your first real-world transaction. Would you like to activate full system sync?”

Jericho frowned. “System sync?”

 “This feature links all your accounts, assets, and properties under the Universal Trade System. It will optimize management and security.”

He hesitated, thinking. “If this thing can protect my money, why not?”

He clicked Activate.

The screen went black for a moment, then flashed with rapid streams of data—his bank accounts, the real estate platform, even his email.

Synchronization complete.

Warning: Global trace attempt detected. Countermeasure initiated. All systems secure.

Jericho’s blood ran cold. “Someone tried to trace me?”

The voice replied calmly:

“Unauthorized data access blocked. Source: Government Financial Surveillance Division.”

Jericho’s heart skipped. “Wait—are you saying the government’s already tracking me?”

 “Affirmative. They’ve detected large-scale movement of funds but cannot identify your digital signature.”

He sat frozen for a moment. “This is getting dangerous.”

Then again, he thought, It’s not like I did anything wrong.

He hadn’t stolen anything. The system had given him the money. Still, he knew how the world worked—people feared what they didn’t understand.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “I need to keep a low profile,” he murmured. “At least until I figure out what this system really is.”

**************************

That evening, Jericho visited his mother’s old neighborhood. The woman who raised him, who’d sacrificed everything to send him to school, had died two years ago—still believing her son was struggling.

He stood outside her small, crumbling house, hands in his pockets. “You’d be proud of me now, Mom,” he whispered. “I finally made it… even if I don’t understand how.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it quickly, then smiled softly. “I’ll rebuild this place. You’ll have the home you always dreamed of.”

He took a few pictures of the house, already imagining what it would look like after renovation—bright walls, new furniture, maybe even a garden. For once, he had the power to make promises he could keep.

Later that night, back in his apartment, the screen flickered again. A new message appeared:

Phase Two Progress: 92%.

Unlocked Feature: Asset Allocation Mode.

Would you like to create a corporate identity?

Jericho frowned. “Corporate identity?”

 “To protect your assets and handle large-scale transactions, a company must be established. The system can automate this process.”

Jericho smirked. “You’re telling me I can build my own company overnight?”

“Affirmative.”

He nodded slowly. “Let’s do it.”

He entered the name Matthew Global Holdings.*Within seconds, legal documents, registration numbers, and a fully functional digital identity appeared on the screen. The system had done everything—set up bank accounts, tax IDs, even a logo.

Jericho stared in awe. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The voice continued:

“Matthew Global Holdings is now registered in twelve countries and verified for unlimited transactions. Welcome, Founder and CEO.”

Jericho leaned back, laughing softly. “Founder and CEO… I like the sound of that.”

He scrolled through the company dashboard—it showed potential investment projects, trading algorithms, and even automated staff hiring systems.

“This is beyond anything human,” he murmured. “Who built you?”

The voice replied simply:

 “Origin classified. Purpose: Transformation.”

“Transformation?”

“Correct. The system exists to change the fate of its chosen user.”

Jericho fell silent. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Change my fate?

He thought about the years of humiliation, the endless rejection letters, the people who laughed when he said he’d be someone one day. Maybe this was his moment to prove them wrong.

He straightened up. “Then let’s transform everything.”

By midnight, Matthew Global Holdings already owned stakes in three major tech firms, two real estate companies, and a private security organization. The system had done it all automatically.

Jericho watched the numbers on the screen rise higher, faster, endlessly. He could feel his pulse matching the rhythm of the glowing digits.

He was becoming someone else—someone the world couldn’t ignore.

Then, just as he started to relax, a message flashed across the screen in red.

Alert: Unauthorized access attempt detected.

Source: Unknown.

The robotic voice turned sharp.

“Warning, Jericho Matthew. Someone is trying to break through the firewall.”

Jericho jumped to his feet. “Who?”

 “Trace incomplete. Attempt blocked. But they know you exist.”

He felt a chill crawl up his spine. “They know…”

The screen flickered again, showing a glimpse of an unfamiliar code, someone else’s system trying to communicate. A single line appeared before it vanished:

“We know what you’ve got. And we want it.”

Jericho’s heart slammed in his chest.

“Who are you?” he whispered. But there was no response. The screen went dark.

He stared at his reflection in the black monitor, his mind racing. The excitement that had filled him earlier was gone—replaced by something colder.

Fear.

He closed the laptop and leaned back, breathing hard. Whatever he had stumbled into was bigger than anything he could imagine.

But one thing was certain: it was too late to turn back.

He looked out the window at the city lights below, his voice low and determined.

“They can come for me if they want,” he said quietly. “But I’m not giving this up.”

As the night deepened, the faint hum

of his laptop echoed in the silence, a reminder that his life had already crossed the line between normal and extraordinary.

And somewhere in the darkness of the digital world, someone—or something—was watching him.