My Journey to Wealth With the Billionaire Endgame System

Message From An Unexpected Person

"It depends on your taste," Trey simply replied, taking a sip of his juice. He watched Reese from the corner of his eyes as he lowered his gaze and stabbed his chicken over and over again.

At first, he thought Reese was just trying to pick at it, but realizing he was actually continuously doing that and was lost in thought, he frowned.

He always knew Reese was like that, ever since they met. Anytime the issue of money came up, Reese would always go far deep into his thoughts without bothering to answer or even acknowledge your presence, until you were done.

His gaze softened, and a feeling of regret washed over him.

He wanted to do more than just assist Reese, he wanted to support and even sponsor whatever he was doing, but then, knowing Reese, he would rather work till he bled than accept anything from him.

Always with the stupid excuse of, "Use that money for yourself and keep it for your future self, not spend it on someone else, especially if it's not urgent."

Trey finally spoke up, "Look—"

Reese raised one of his hands up to shun him. A deeper frown formed on Trey's face. He tilted his head to get a better look at Reese, and when Reese said nothing, he spoke up again.

"Reese—"

"I'm trying to think, give me a sec."

"No," Trey answered. "You thinking about it won't help. I'll help you arrange a place."

Reese scoffed. "Like I'd let you do that. You can't arrange a place I'd want to live in and think I would actually stay there."

Trey raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I'll get a suitable place myself, probably in the city."

"What about a penthouse?"

"No, that's a no-go."

"It's cheap here."

"No!"

Before Trey could talk back, a buzzing noise made him stop. He dipped his hand into his pocket, taking out his phone, and immediately his gaze fell on the contact name. His expression shifted instantly.

Reese, who had noticed the sudden change, was concerned. He put his fork gently down and leaned closer to the table.

"Is everything okay?"

Trey's jaw tightened when Reese's voice pierced his thoughts, then he nodded. "Everything's... fine," he replied, hesitating between his words. Then he quickly turned to Reese with a smile.

"Lock up as soon as you're done eating. Your medications are in the third drawer by your bed, and sleep early."

He said this as he grabbed his keys and coat, sneakily pocketing Reese's shattered phone as well, then headed for the door.

"Don’t burn my kitchen," he muttered as he left.

As soon as Trey left, leaving the apartment in a very loud silence, save for the sounds of distant waves smashing into the shore.

Reese walked randomly around the house, doing just as Trey said. He locked up the windows, doors, the fridge even, as well as the door that led to the open balcony on the other side of the living room area.

He then walked into his room, picked up his laptop, and plugged it in, watching as the symbols changed from the laptop's brand to user passcode.

Once he was done, the screen lit up, displaying his home screen. However, the system screen also flickered before him.

[Trait: Cold Clarity [Passive] still active and working at optimum condition.]

'That's a very helpful reminder, thanks... I guess,' he thought, although that was very obvious.

He could tell that Trey was genuinely concerned for him, maybe with a hint of guilt, and he knew that feeling well.

Additionally, the Cold Clarity skill wasn't affecting him much. His mind was still calm and felt really empty, like most of his memories had been lifted.

He opened his laptop and accessed his emails.

Most were spam, some from traders. A few from online forums where he’d once begged for help or strategy guides.

The second his eyes dropped onto one of the unanswered messages, his heart dropped almost immediately.

The subject line was simple, “Please respond.”

But the sender was what froze him in place.

Cecilia Myles.

Why now?

How did she even know where to reach him?

Was it a coincidence, or was this the start of something worse?

His breathing slowed as his thoughts raced ahead of him, memories he’d buried, arguments he’d silenced, and that final voicemail he never replied to.

He swallowed hard and finally clicked on the message.

“Hello Reese, it’s Cecilia. Please call me back or message when you see this.”

.