NO SINGING! BECOME AN ACTOR OR DIE

CHAPTER 6: The Initial Traces of the Ponzi Scheme

“I will,” Dirga replied instantly, his eyes fixed on the prospect of a massive victory that would bring him closer to total freedom from the System’s threat.

"Excellent. I’ll send you the rough draft tomorrow," Dina said, her weary expression replaced by the keen enthusiasm of a professional.

Dirga merely nodded, then turned to his Mother. That aura of humanity felt thickest as his Mum pulled him into a hug. Her jacket smelled of detergent and warm *telon* oil, calming the trauma caused by the system window earlier that afternoon.

"Let's go home, dear. You need some sleep," his Mum whispered.

Dirga nodded and took his mother's hand.

They arrived home. A small house they had purchased through a hard-won loan. The scent of night jasmine drifted through the window curtains, mingling with the aroma of boiled instant noodles his Mum had prepared for dinner. Their life was simple and sweet, like the chicken porridge from the previous afternoon.

He went to the bathroom, pretending to wash his face. Dirga shivered as the cold water touched his smooth cheeks. He needed to consult the System about his father.

He waited until his Mum was in the kitchen, then locked the bathroom door.

[Status: Your Father appears anxious.]

[Please provide me with the details of my Father’s financial losses and his connection to Rendra. Immediately.] Dirga pleaded in his mind, his deepest voice almost choked by the threat of ruin.

[Access to Family Crisis Details is prohibited until Quest S1 successfully reaches 50%.]

Dirga cursed inwardly. So the System was like a bureaucratic robot? It wouldn't tell him anything until his mission succeeded?

[Warning: Information is only available after you acquire the ‘Initial Financial Recovery’ ability. Use your Actor’s instinct and your past knowledge, Sir.]

He knew he had to investigate it himself. But how could a 7-year-old child possibly penetrate his father’s financial secrets? This was the 1990s; there was no internet to search. All communication was analog: business cards, telephones, and the morning newspaper.

He left the bathroom, put on his old pyjamas, and approached his Father at the dining table.

His Father was arranging the glasses, his gaze distant. Dirga noticed his Father’s jaw was tense, his eyes showing small red flecks from overwork and exhaustion.

Since returning from work that afternoon, Dirga’s Father had been sweating constantly, even in the cool evening air. His Father was a hard worker, quiet, and deeply believed in the power of his own efforts.

"Dirga, listen," his Father said, approaching him with a serious expression. "I don't understand why you suddenly want to be an Actor. But don't drop out of school. And don't forget other things that are more important than making films," Dirga’s father had said earlier that afternoon.

Dirga knew his father meant that he shouldn't forget to socialise with his friends, and not just be preoccupied with his work as an actor.

But what choice did he have? If he followed that advice, a surge of guilt would plummet, because he knew the truly important thing now: the investment that had the potential to destroy them in the coming years. And his Father might already be the first target of that Ponzi scheme.

Dirga had to be the perfect listener that evening.

His Father always set aside time to help his Mum with chores. This was a moment he knew was crucial for gathering information, as his parents tended to chat about their activities of the day.

"Dad, I want to talk about something," Dirga said, his voice innocent, deliberately made a little spoiled.

"Yes, dear. What is it? Are you tired of acting already?" his Father asked, teasing him. He pulled Dirga onto his lap. His Father didn't smoke, and his sweat smelled purely of the cheap bar soap he usually used. It was the scent of comfort, one that would soon vanish in the future if the Ponzi scheme succeeded in ruining their lives.

"Miss Dina called me earlier," Dirga began. "She said my films are definitely going to be successful and make lots of money. Dirga can buy Dad a car later."

Dirga’s Father smiled bitterly while hugging him. "Don't be so arrogant, son. But I pray all your dreams come true."

His Father fell silent for a moment, then let out a sigh that was too heavy for a peaceful dinner.

"Hmm... Dad, can Dirga ask you something?"

"Of course, what does my boy want to ask?"

"What is an investment? You said you wanted to add to an investment that gives a 200% profit, what is that?" Dirga asked, carefully controlling his intonation so as not to sound too demanding. The role of the curious child was key.

His Father released the hug. The proud expression instantly vanished from his face, replaced by cold shock.

"Who told you that?" his Father asked, his tone rising slightly. Highly defensive.

"Earlier in the room. I heard Dad say he wanted to be the richest person in the city because of Mr... Rendra’s project? Wasn't it?" Dirga pressed, maintaining an expression of guilt for eavesdropping.

Dirga’s Father’s face suddenly went pale. Dirga had gone too far. His Father’s logic must have kicked in, realising there was something unusual about his son’s acting.

"No! No. That... that was a cancelled office project," his Father stammered. His Father’s lying tone was terrible, far too obvious for Dirga, who had spent decades interacting with cunning people.

His Father avoided eye contact.

Dirga let the silence pass. He recognised the failure. His sophisticated acting had failed when directed at an emotional authority figure. His Father knew him too well.

[Communication Manipulation Analysis: Failed. Target blocked the inquiry due to feeling threatened.]

The System was useless. Now he knew the enemy was named Rendra, was offering ridiculous profits, and his Father would become furious if investigated further.

Dirga slid off his Father’s lap. "Sorry, Dad. Dirga overheard your conversation,"

He had to retreat.