My Apocalypse Godhood Begins With A Gift

1,000,000,000 USD Added

Toby stood frozen on the sidewalk. His eyes locked onto the mountain of paper currency resting on the grass.

"Do not touch it!" Mrs. Higgins screamed.

She lunged forward and grabbed her son by his shirt collar. She yanked him away from the cash pile as if it were a live explosive. Her chest heaved as panic warred with basic math in her mind. If Rex actually handed her son ten million dollars, Toby would instantly become wealthier than the entire Higgins bloodline. The scale of the money broke her understanding of reality.

The neighbors on the sidewalk were equally paralyzed. Nobody whispered. Nobody moved. A delivery driver remained locked in place with his hand hovering over his dropped clipboard. Old Mr. Henderson, who spent his mornings complaining about Rex mowing the lawn too loudly, stood with his mouth gaping open.

Rex ignored the silent audience and focused on the translucent blue screen hovering in his peripheral vision.

[Daily Rebates Remaining: 1/3]

A faint smile touched his lips. He had one final exchange allowed for this specific target today. He needed to use it to secure maximum capital before the apocalypse countdown progressed any further. He remembered the system rules clearly. Once a target hit the limit, the multiplier would stop working on them. He had to make this last gift count.

The irony of the situation brought a dark humor to his thoughts. In exactly thirty days, a global ice age would turn all this printed paper into useless kindling. He was trading worthless paper for the system's digital capital. He was preparing to outlive everyone on this street.

Mrs. Higgins stared at Rex with shallow breaths. Her haughty demeanor vanished. The reality of a hundred thousand dollars sitting on her front lawn rewired her entire social hierarchy.

"Mr. Rex," Mrs. Higgins stammered, stepping away from her son. She smoothed down her blouse with sweating palms. "Perhaps we misunderstood the situation."

Rex tilted his head. Five minutes ago, she called him a parasite and threatened to call the police. Now, she was attaching a respectful title to his name. The raw power of capital was intoxicating.

"I want the ten million," Toby blurted out.

The boy broke free from his mother and took a step toward Rex. The greed in his eyes overshadowed his previous fear. He did not care where the money came from. He only cared that it was being offered.

Mrs. Higgins hesitated. She looked at the neighborhood spectators and then back at the calm man standing in front of her. If Rex was telling the truth, turning down that amount of wealth would be a generational mistake. Greed conquered her pride with ease. She gave a stiff nod of approval.

Rex squared his shoulders and addressed the boy with strict formality. He needed the system to register the intent without any ambiguity.

"Do you accept my gift of ten million dollars?" Rex asked.

"Yes," Toby answered immediately.

The blue interface flashed. New text cascaded across the screen.

[10,000,000 USD Gifted]

[100x Rebate Successful]

[1,000,000,000 USD Added]

[Daily Rebates Exhausted.]

Rex let out a slow breath as the system confirmed the transaction. He was officially a billionaire. He did not need to stuff his pockets this time. The system offered multiple withdrawal methods. He selected the direct banking option to test its real world integration. He needed a secure way to move massive capital without carrying shipping containers full of paper.

A low rumble echoed down the quiet suburban street. The sound grew louder and vibrated through the soles of Rex's shoes. Three armored transport trucks turned the corner and rolled down the pavement in a tight convoy. The vehicles dwarfed the luxury sports cars parked in the driveways.

The lead truck hissed to a halt directly in front of the Higgins property. The heavy steel doors swung open. Four armed security guards stepped out and formed a defensive perimeter around the vehicle.

A man in a sharp tailored suit emerged from the passenger side. He adjusted his glasses and surveyed the crowd before locking eyes with Rex. The man rushed forward while clutching a leather portfolio to his chest.

"Mr. Lawson," the man called out, his voice dripping with forced respect. "I am Director Shaw from the Central Reserve. We received the sudden deposit notification and mobilized our secure transport division immediately."

The neighbors gasped in unison. Director Shaw was a public figure in the city financial district. The Clark family had spent years trying to secure a dinner invitation with him to elevate their business standing. Now, that same director was jogging across a suburban lawn to greet their subservient errand boy.

"We brought the ten million dollars in cash as you requested," Shaw said, bowing slightly. "My team is ready to transfer the funds to the designated recipient."

Rex nodded toward Toby. The guards opened the rear doors of the transport truck. They began unloading canvas bags. The weight of ten million dollars in hundred dollar bills was immense. The guards strained as they stacked the bags onto a reinforced steel dolly. They managed to wheel the towering stack onto the driveway, dropping the payload with a heavy thud.

Mrs. Higgins lost control of her legs. She dropped to her knees on the grass. She stared at the canvas bags as her mind failed to process the display of unlimited wealth.

"Mr. Rex," she pleaded, her voice trembling. She reached out a shaking hand toward his shoes. "Perhaps Toby does not need all ten million. We could invest it together. We could form a partnership."

She was desperate to keep him engaged. She wanted to tie her family to his sudden ascension. She forgot her previous insults and focused only on the canvas bags sitting on her driveway.

Rex looked down at her with cold indifference.

"A gift is a gift," Rex said.

He turned his back on the Higgins family and walked away. He had extracted the maximum rebate from Toby and had no further use for them. The upcoming apocalypse would render their paper money useless in thirty days. He needed to focus on converting his billion dollars into tangible survival assets like generators and reinforced steel.

"Please wait, Mr. Lawson," Director Shaw called out, hurrying after him.

The bank executive ignored the kneeling woman and matched Rex's brisk pace. Director Shaw wiped sweat from his forehead. He had never seen a billion dollar account materialize out of thin air, and he intended to secure the business at any cost.

"Your remaining balance is unprecedented," Shaw continued, panting slightly. "We need you to open a primary account with Central Reserve. You will receive our highest tier status. We will waive all holding fees and provide a dedicated investment team available twenty four hours a day."

Rex kept walking toward the Clark estate. The neighbors parted like water as he approached. They stared at him with a mixture of terror and awe. The local gossip ring had always painted him as a pathetic loser. Now, they were watching a top tier financial director beg for his attention on a public sidewalk.

"We can assign a private security detail for your estate," Shaw offered, his face flushing red. "Just give us five minutes in a boardroom to discuss the terms. We can handle all international asset transfers and set up offshore tax shelters. We can even authorize an unlimited black card by this afternoon."

"I will think about it," Rex replied without slowing down.

He did not care about investment portfolios or tax shelters. He needed industrial grade building materials. He reached the end of the block and stepped onto the paved walkway leading to his wife's front door.

“Alright Mr Lawson, I'll have my team process your papers immediately”

Director Shaw stopped at the edge of the property line. He bowed deeply and promised to wait for Rex's call. The bank manager stood at attention until Rex reached the porch.

Rex ignored the banker and stepped up to the wooden steps. He placed his hand on the brass doorknob. The memory of freezing to death on this exact spot flared in his mind. The phantom pain of frostbite bit at his knuckles. He remembered Lucy's voice mocking him over the intercom while she ate premium steak with Chase Perry.

He pushed the door open and stepped back into the house.