System Revenge: From Trash Boy to Top Boss

Chapter 2

There was a stunned silence as Xavier Duston knelt before Jane. Damon stood there, still in the clown costume, with the velvet jewelry box now empty in Jane’s hands. His mind reeled. Months of scraping every dollar, every dime from his website, from every humiliating errand, just to make her happy. 

He and Jane had been dating for two months now and during this time he’d bought her dinners, paid for her textbooks, and even surprised her with that expensive designer scarf last month. Most of the money he made from his errand website, she took. He lived on the scraps and now she does this to him.

“What the hell are you doing, Xavier?!” Damon finally roared as he lunged forward, shoving Xavier’s shoulder. Xavier stumbled back and was surprised but quickly regained his balance.

“Hey! Watch it, Newton!” Xavier snapped.

Damon ignored him, turning his burning gaze to Jane. Her eyes, usually so warm and inviting, were now cold and distant. “Jane! What is going on? We’re together, you’re my girlfriend!”

Jane flinched, then scoffed. “Together? Damon, don’t be ridiculous. We were never ‘together’.” Her voice was sharp, cutting. “You’re just… an acquaintance and a very persistent one, by the look of things.”

A collective gasp swept through the room, quickly followed by a wave of murmurs. Then, the boos started.

“Yeah, Damon! Get real!” a voice from the back shouted.

“Jane’s way out of your league, clown!” another chimed in.

“Xavier and Jane, perfect match!”

“The richest guy and the prettiest girl—it's the perfect love story!”

But then the voices grew louder. There was a wave of criticism and ridicule pouring down on Damon. He looked around desperately, wanting someone to back him up. But he saw nobody behind him.

Xavier straightened up and smiled as his classmates cheered him on. He pushed Damon to the side and leaned in close to Jane as he wrapped a gripping hand around her waist. “You heard them, Newton, you should take it easy; you’re making a fool of yourself again.”

Damon stood rooted on the spot with his heart broken into pieces.

Xavier said, with his eyes fixed upon Jane. "My Queen," he whispered as he lowered his head and kissed her.

Right there in front of everyone and in front of Damon.

The whole class joined in the cheering and a huge triumphal sound was heard down the hall. “Xavier! Xavier! Xavier!” Jane nodded and leaned into the kiss with her eyes closed.

Damon felt a cold, crushing weight settle over him. His heart sank and ached so much he felt like throwing up. He was still in the clown costume, the bright colors now feeling like a mockery, highlighting his pathetic state. He was a joke.

“And don’t think for a second we’ll keep using your pathetic errand service, Damon!” someone yelled. “Boycott ErrandBoy.com!”

“Yeah! No more jobs for the clown!”

“He’s done for!”

The threats stung, adding insult to injury. His website was his only source of income. They were going to destroy it and they were going to make sure he had nothing left.

He couldn’t take it anymore; he couldn’t breathe, and so he turned and blindly pushed through the laughing, jeering crowd. He heard their taunts following him and their cruel laughter echoing in his ears.

He stumbled out of the lecture hall and out of the building. He walked past the campus gates, past the familiar streets, his feet carrying him further and further away. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision, mixing with the sweat and the cheap clown makeup.

“Life’s not fair,” he sobbed aloud, the words tearing from his throat. “It’s just not fair.”

Then, as he rounded a deserted corner, something flickered in his vision. A voice, calm and clear, resonated directly in his mind. It wasn’t a sound he heard with his ears, but a thought, a presence.

“Damon Newton, you have been selected to be the host of the Wealth Generation System.”

Damon stopped dead in his tracks and he blinked, rubbing his eyes. The grid was gone, but the voice remained, a steady and unwavering presence.

“What… what was that?” He whispered, looking around wildly. “Who’s there?”

“I am the System, you are the chosen host.”

Damon’s heart hammered against his ribs. Was he going crazy? Had the humiliation finally broken him? “The… the Wealth Generation System? What does that even mean?”

“It means your current financial status is about to change significantly. Your current net worth, including all liquid assets and estimated material possessions, is precisely two thousand four hundred and eighty-seven dollars and twelve cents. Is this accurate?”

Damon’s jaw dropped. Two thousand four hundred and eighty-seven dollars and twelve cents. That was almost exactly what he had in his savings, plus the few cheap possessions in his dorm room. How could he know that?

“Yes… Yes, that’s accurate,” he stammered with his mind racing.

“Excellent, your first task has been assigned and one million dollars has been deposited into your designated bank account. Your objective: face-slap Jane Foster, your ex-girlfriend, who has just publicly humiliated you.”

“A million dollars?!” Damon exclaimed, pulling out his phone with trembling fingers. He fumbled to unlock it, navigating to his banking app. He typed in his password, and his eyes were glued to the screen.

And there it was, his balance. It wasn’t a few hundred dollars; it was seven digits, a gleaming, impossible ‘one million dollars.’

“Holy shit… It’s real!” he gasped, a wild, disbelieving laugh bubbling up from his chest. The tears were still there, but now they were tears of shock, of relief, of pure, unadulterated joy. A million dollars, and all he had to do was… get revenge on Jane? A mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Okay, System,” Damon said, his voice firming, a new confidence blooming within him. “Okay. I’m in.” Damon was happy and set out to first go and get some clothes he would wear to Jane’s birthday party tonight. 

He hailed a cab, something he rarely did, and gave the driver the address for the New York City’s Universal Shopping Center. The driver eyed his clown costume, but Damon didn’t care; he was soon going to shed this skin.

The cab pulled up to the sprawling, gleaming complex. Even from the outside, it screamed luxury. He stepped out, and as he approached the entrance, two burly security guards stepped into his path.

“Hey, you!” One of them barked; his voice was rough. “Where do you think you’re going in that getup? This isn’t a circus.”

“I’m here to shop,” Damon stated, trying to sound nonchalant, but his voice was still a little shaky.

The second guard snorted. “Shop? Look, kid, this isn’t a costume party. And we don’t allow… lowlifes in here. We are gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Damon felt a flash of his old humiliation, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of defiance. “I’m not leaving,” Damon said, trying to push past them.

The first guard grabbed his arm. “Listen, pal, you don’t want trouble; just turn around.”

Damon pulled his arm free as he wasn’t going to let them stop him. He darted past them, surprising them with his sudden burst of speed. He heard their shouts behind him.

“Hey! Stop him!”

“Security! We’ve got a runner!”

At first, Damon flew by the crowded crowd, his clown suit casting an unsettling glow, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be inside; he spotted a side door, a not-so-noticeable door, and went through it, into the luxurious interior of the mall. He could still hear the bellowed sounds of the guards, echoing throughout the vast hall.

In a partition dividing the boutiques were designer boutiques. He opened the heavy glass doors to the most luxurious and elegant-looking clothing store he could find. At first, there was a cool, hushed air to the store, with a perfumed smell of fine leather and expensive fabrics. Stack after stack of suits looked impossible, skirts looked shiny, and boots looked sleek. Crystal chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling and beaming warm light.

Damon stood there in total awe; he hadn’t seen anything like it before. This was a different world and a world he could now afford. He ran his hand over a silk tie and then a cashmere jacket as he thought to himself, “This was it; this was my new life.”

But just then, he heard his name, “Damon?!”

He spun around and there they were: Jane and Xavier. They were standing a few feet away, and their eyes were wide with disbelief.

“What are you doing here, Damon?” Jane demanded, taking a step forward. “Are you stalking me now? Seriously? You followed us all the way here?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Her hand shot out, and she slapped him, a sharp and stinging blow across his cheek.

“Get away from me, you pathetic creep!” she spat. “Still in that ridiculous costume? You’re pathetic!”