Rewriting My Billions: Boss of the Hidden realm

Chapter 1: Dying Rich Is For Losers

I tasted copper and regret. 

My chest was pinned beneath the crushed steering column of a two-million-dollar sports car. Rain poured through the shattered windshield, mixing with the blood on my tailored suit. 

Thirty-two billion dollars, I thought, struggling to keep my eyes open. 

I own half the banks in the world, and I can’t buy a working airbag.

I was thirty-two years old. I had spent the last ten years crushing my rivals, firing my friends, and turning my heart to ice to build my corporate empire. I won the game. I was the richest man alive. 

And I was dying totally, completely alone in a ditch. 

My vision started to fade to black. The cold crept up my neck. I closed my eyes and let out one final, ragged breath. 

*If I get a do-over,* I prayed to the dark, *I’m not doing it like this. I just want to be a good boss.*

My heart stopped. 

*BEEP.*

My eyes snapped open. I sucked in a massive breath of air, sitting bolt upright. 

I grabbed my chest. No blood. No crushed metal. 

Instead of rain, a drop of brown water fell from a stained ceiling and hit me right on the forehead. *Drip.* 

I blinked. The air smelled like cheap instant ramen and damp carpet. I was sitting on a lumpy mattress on the floor. I looked down at my hands. The skin was smooth. My Rolex was gone. 

I scrambled across the floor and grabbed the cracked Motorola flip phone off a milk crate. 

**May 12, 2014.** 

**7:00 AM.**

I dropped the phone. 

I was twenty-two again. I was broke. I was back in my crappy college apartment. 

A laugh bubbled up in my throat. I survived. It was a second chance. I threw my head back to yell in victory—

*DING!*

A crisp, robotic chime echoed inside my skull. A glowing blue holographic screen materialized out of thin air, floating three feet in front of my face. 

I flinched, falling backward onto the mattress. 

[Mythic Tycoon System Bound.]

[Host: Julian Thorne]

[Current Wealth: $12.40]

“What the hell?” I waved my hand through the screen. My fingers phased right through the blue light. 

The text shifted. 

[Welcome, Host. Fate heard your final wish. You have been granted the tools to build a supreme empire.]

[Rule 1: You must build your wealth. Rank up, dominate the market, recruit talent.]

[Rule 2: The Karma Debt. You asked to be a 'Good Boss.' If you exploit your workers, cheat the innocent, or act like human trash, your Karma Debt will rise. If it hits 100%, your assets will be frozen for 24 hours. Good luck.]

I stared at the floating blue letters. A system. Like a video game. 

Before I could even process the absurdity of a magical screen lecturing me about morals, the front door rattled on its hinges. 

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

"Thorne! Open the damn door!" a gravelly voice yelled. 

I sighed, rubbing my temples. I knew that voice. Mr. Henderson. My slumlord. 

I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open. Henderson stood in the hallway, sweating in a stained tank top, holding a clipboard like it was a weapon. 

"You're three days late on rent, kid," Henderson sneered, stepping into my personal space. "Two hundred bucks. Right now. Or I’m throwing your garbage on the curb."

The old Julian *the billionaire Julian* would have grabbed him by the throat. My muscles tightened. I stepped forward. 

*BEEP.*

A red warning flashed in the corner of my vision. 

[Karma Debt increasing. Violence against a civilian will result in a 20% penalty. Outsmart him instead.]

Fine, I thought. Let's play the game.

I looked at Henderson. Above his balding head, a small blue box popped into existence. 

[Target: Gary Henderson]

[Role: Slumlord]

[Business IQ: F-Tier]

[Hidden Secret: Has not reported the black toxic mold in unit 4B to city health inspectors. Fines would exceed $50,000.]

A slow, sharp smile spread across my face. Oh, this System was going to be fun. 

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "I don’t have the two hundred, Gary."

His face turned purple. "Then pack your bags, you little punk! I’m calling the cops to evict you!"

"Go ahead," I said casually, picking at my fingernails. "While they're here, I’ll just ask them to take a walk down to unit 4B. The Johnsons' apartment, right?"

Henderson froze. The clipboard in his hand twitched. "What are you talking about?"

"Black mold, Gary," I whispered, stepping closer so only he could hear. "The thick, fuzzy kind hiding behind their bathroom drywall. The kind that city health inspectors love to hand out fifty-thousand-dollar fines for. You know, federal health violations."

All the color drained from Henderson’s face. His jaw dropped. "How... how did you know about that?"

"I know everything," I lied smoothly. I patted his sweaty shoulder. "Here’s the deal. You give me a one-month extension on my rent. In exchange, I won't make a phone call that bankrupts you by lunchtime. Sounds fair?"

He swallowed hard. He looked at me like I had grown horns. The broke college kid he bullied yesterday was gone. 

"Fine," Henderson choked out, backing away. "One month, Thorne. Don't push your luck."

He practically sprinted down the hallway. 

I closed the door and locked it, grinning ear to ear. The corporate blood was pumping through my veins again. 

*DING!*

[Conflict Resolved Ethically. Karma Debt: 0%]

[Reward: +5 IQ points. Unlocked System Vision Level 1.]

A cool, refreshing rush of energy washed over my brain. It felt like I had just drank three cups of premium espresso. My thoughts were sharper. Faster. 

The blue screen shifted, flashing an urgent gold color. 

[Main Quest 1 Generated: Build Your Roster.]

[Objective: Every boss needs a Chief of Security. Head to the alleyway behind the local pawn shop.]

[Target: Gideon Cross. Hidden Potential: SSS-Rank Combat.]

[Warning: Target is a 500-year-old Vampire. Approach with caution. Bring coffee.]

I stared at the glowing blue text for a full ten seconds. 

"A what?" I muttered to the empty room. 

I shook my head, grabbed my cheap jacket off the floor, and opened the door. 

Well, I thought, stepping out into the hallway. At least I won't have to pay for his dental plan.