Rebirth of the Sovereign: God-Level Wealth System

Chapter 3: The Price of Disrespect

The burning heat inside Ethan’s veins didn't cool down when he walked out of the sterile hospital lobby. If anything, it settled deep into his core, hardening his stance and altering the way he moved. His clothes were still the same faded, cheap cotton rags, but the hollow, exhausted look in his eyes was entirely gone. He felt light. Dangerous. The Asura restructuring was violently rewriting his muscle density from the inside out.

But he needed to spend. The system dashboard floating in his lower peripheral vision was ticking down like a time bomb.

[System Warning: To permanently stabilize Phase One of the Asura Body Refining Technique, Host must complete a secondary high-tier expenditure within ninety minutes. Current System Funds: $9,950,000.00.]

Ethan stopped right outside the massive glass facade of Apex Premium Motors. Behind the pristine glass sat rows of glistening carbon fiber and deep, metallic paint—Lamborghinis, Ferraris, and custom-tuned supercars.

He shoved the heavy glass door open. The sudden blast of air conditioning hit his face, carrying the distinct, heavy scent of expensive Italian leather and fresh floor wax.

At the central reception desk, three sales consultants were huddled around a tablet, laughing at something loud. One of them, a guy named Victor with slicked-back hair and an overly tight silver tie, glanced up when the door chime rang. His eyes scanned Ethan in a fraction of a second. Faded jeans. Scuffed sneakers. A jacket that looked like it had survived three winters too many.

Victor’s customer-service smile died instantly. He leaned back into his huddle, dropping his voice to a heavy, raspy whisper. "Great. Another campus ghost looking for a free selfie next to a car he can't even afford the insurance on. Someone go tell him the used Honda lot is three blocks down."

The other sales reps chuckled, ignoring Ethan completely as he walked right past them.

Ethan’s boots clicked faintly against the highly polished marble floor. He didn't look at the entry-level sports cars. He stopped directly in front of the center display—a limited-edition, matte-black Bugatti Chiron. The aggressive, brutal lines of the machine looked like a coiled predator, perfectly mirroring the volatile energy currently buzzing under Ethan's own skin. The price tag on the silver stand read: $3,800,000.00.

"Hey. Kid. Step away from the glass."

Victor walked over, his hands stuffed carelessly into his pockets, not even bothering to pull them out. He didn't offer a greeting, nor did he hand over a business card. He just stood a few feet away, looking at Ethan like he was a stain on the floor. "Those vehicles are for serious buyers only. If you're just here to take photos for your social media, do it from outside the velvet rope. We have an actual VIP client arriving in fifteen minutes, and I don't want the showroom looking cluttered with loiterers."

Ethan turned his head slowly. His icy, bottomless gaze locked directly onto the salesman's face. The sudden, suffocating depth in Ethan’s eyes made Victor choke on his next breath, his throat tightening up. It was the look of a man who had commanded shadow armies across continents, not a broke college student getting scolded by a clerk.

"Is this vehicle available for immediate delivery?" Ethan asked. His voice was entirely flat, stripped of any emotion.

Victor blinked, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck before his smug composure returned. He let out a sharp, patronizing laugh to hide his brief panic. "Immediate delivery? Kid, do you even know what a down payment on a Bugatti looks like? The delivery tax alone costs more than whatever student loan you're surviving on. Stop wasting my time. I don't get paid to humiliate kids, but you're making it exceptionally hard not to."

Just then, the showroom door chimed loudly again.

"Victor! Is my Porsche prepped yet?"

A familiar, arrogant voice echoed through the high-ceilinged room. Ethan didn't even need to turn around to recognize that nasal, condescending tone.

Leo Brooks walked in, his arm still hooked tightly around Chloe. Leo’s face was still slightly pale from the massive humiliation back at the hospital, but being surrounded by high-end luxury seemed to have brought his usual smugness right back to life.

"Young Master Brooks!" Victor’s entire demeanor flipped. He practically sprinted past Ethan, his face twisting into a wide, sycophantic grin. "Yes, absolutely! The Carrera you ordered is fully detailed and waiting in the back bay. We just need to finalize the signatures at the desk."

Leo nodded pompously, but then his eyes landed on the familiar figure standing next to the Bugatti. His expression turned instantly ugly, his eyes narrowing. "Vance? What the hell are you doing here?"

Chloe gasped, her fingers tightening around Leo's arm as she stared at Ethan. "Ethan, are you seriously stalking us now? Just because you somehow scraped up money for the hospital bill doesn't mean you belong in a place like this! Stop tracking Leo down, it's getting pathetic!"

"Stalking you?" Ethan finally turned around, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips. "You vastly overestimate your relevance to my life, Chloe."

Leo stepped forward, his jaw tight. "Victor, why is this trash still standing in your showroom? He’s a nobody from my university. He probably snuck in to steal a key fob or look for a handout."

Victor’s face darkened as he glared at Ethan. "My apologies, Young Master Brooks. I was just about to have security lock him out." He turned back to Ethan, his voice dropping all pretense of politeness. "Get out. Now. Before I call the police and have you dragged out for vagrancy."

Ethan didn't move an inch. Instead, he slowly reached into his pocket, pulling out the same scratched plastic debit card. He walked straight past Victor, heading toward the elevated manager’s desk at the back of the room where the store director was watching the commotion with a deep frown.

Ethan slammed the card onto the marble desk.

"The Bugatti," Ethan commanded, his voice ringing through the silent showroom like a thunderclap. "Full cash payment. I want the registration completed in ten minutes, or I will buy the entire dealership franchise from your regional corporate office by five o'clock."