System Revenge: From Trash Boy to Top Boss

Chapter 5

“I assure you all,” Aria said, her voice clear and strong, through the guards and the solitary shoppers, “that if this guy causes any inconvenience to you, I will personally pay for it. Now, please, stand down.”

Damon watched her, a strange warmth spreading through him. He’d known Aria Golden by reputation, of course, most did. She studied in Mass Communication and he studied in finance. They were in different departments, different worlds, but the rumors about her still got to him. 

The part about "her being nice and not snobbish and certainly not a bully, " seemed to be true. She had just proven it to him. And maybe dating her for real wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Alright, Jessica,” Damon said, turning his attention back to the salesgirl, his voice firm. “Let’s get this done. I have other things to attend to.”

Jessica stared at him and her lips went together in a small line. “If it weren’t for Ms. Aria,” she thought, fingers clicking instead of tracing out a card, “you would be in the guardroom right now, little thief.” 

She couldn’t believe what Aria saw in him, this clown, this obvious criminal. “Beauty clearly doesn’t equal brains, apparently,” she mused, a smug satisfaction building inside her. She was eager to swipe the card, to watch it decline, to see the look on his face, and then on Aria’s. She wanted to prove him and Aria wrong.

With a flourish that sounded almost theatrical, Jessica pulled out Damon’s card. She didn’t even take a second glance at the machine, her eyes fixed on Damon, with that triumphant smile already getting to them. “Alright, Mr. Newton,” she said, her tone ever more sober and self-conscious, “let’s see what kind of ‘money’ you have.” 

She swiped the card with a snap, fully expecting the dreaded “Transaction Declined” message.

Jessica said in a hurry, “See, declined. I knew you were nothing but a lowlife thief.” 

But the machine didn’t make the familiar error sound. Instead, a soft, triumphant beep filled the sudden silence of the store.

Jessica’s smirk faltered. Her eyes, still fixed on Damon, widened, and a green light pulsed on the card reader.

“What…?” She mumbled, her head snapping down to the machine.

The screen clearly displayed: “TRANSACTION SUCCESSFUL. $200,000.00.“

A loud gasp over the people in attendance caught in the air. Jessica's face had turned into disbelief and then horror. She turned back her card reader in a fast motion, clutching it tightly to her chest, her cheeks burning bright red.

As Aria watched with a slight interest and as much concern as anything, she gave out a faint gasp as she focused her clear blue eyes on Damon. “Who... who are you?” she said, her voice barely audible. “Are you some kind of… secretly rich guy?”

Damon smiled, a genuine, easy smile. “Me? Nah,” he chuckled. “I’m just Damon Newton. You know, Damon, the known pauper on campus.”

Aria laughed, a clear, bell-like sound that filled the store. “A pauper, you say? Well, Mr. Pauper, you certainly don’t act like one. But as a woman of my word, I am going to do my part in the challenge.” She stepped closer, her face beaming with gratitude. “Thank you, Damon. For the bag, it’s... beautiful.”

Jessica, still reeling from embarrassment, retrieved the Fendi Custom Glow bag from its display. Her hands trembled as she placed it gently into a large, elegant shopping bag, then added Damon’s clothes and the Rolex to another. 

The other shoppers all quickly turned away; Damon had just dismissed them with the heavy payment he made.

Both security guards looked equally embarrassed, and as they slowly backed out, they tried to push the incident out of sight.

“Hold it!” said Aria through the air to stop them mid-retreat. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The guards froze.

“You two, and you, Jessica,” Aria continued, her voice firm, “you owe Mr. Newton an apology.”

Jessica’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Ms. Aria, I…”

“Now,” Aria insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

All three of them, in unison, dropped to their knees before Damon.

“We… we apologize, Mr. Newton,” Jessica stammered, her voice barely a whisper, her face still bright red. “We were… we were wrong and we misjudged you.”

“Yeah, sorry, sir,” one of the guards mumbled, looking at his shoes.

“Our apologies, Mr. Newton,” the other added, his voice stiff.

Damon looked down at them, a strange mix of satisfaction and unease stirring within him.

“Alright,” Damon said, his voice calm. “Apology accepted. Now, you two,” he gestured to the security guards, “take these bags and follow me; I need a taxi.”

Damon walked out into the street, the guards chasing him down with the bags as he hailed a taxi, the driver eyeing the clown suit half as much with amusement and half with confusion.

“Dormitory, please,” Damon instructed, giving the address.

As the taxi pulled away, Damon glanced out the window, and the lights of the city faded into streaks of color.

As the taxi moved on through a countryside section of the city, passing through a more rural and less populated section, suddenly Damon saw something. A sleek black Range Rover was standing just oddly on the side of the road, with a man slumped on the pavement and silent.

“Stop the car!” Damon ordered the driver.

The driver got out of his car, startled, put the gas on, and Damon ran out with a flap of the clown suit flapping about him. He kneeled down beside the man who seemed to be in his fifties, his face pale and shallowly breathless.

To Damon, that was the two-week first aid training course he’d taken six months ago, mostly just to get a certificate for a resume. He checked his pulse, his airway, his breathing, and compressions. He then gave the man CPR. 

“Sir? Can you hear me?” Damon asked the man, but he could not hear him.

After what looked like ages, but surely only a minute or two, the man took a gasp, a ragged, shaking breath, with his eyes fluttering open, confused.

“Wha… what happened?” The man rasped, his voice weak.

And he leaned back to take a breath. "Sir, you fainted; you were on the ground. Are you alright?"

He raised himself from his seat and leaned against the side of the Range Rover. “I... I was driving and started feeling dizzy. I pulled over and I don’t seem to remember anything after that.” 

He looked at Damon, his eyes burning. “You... you saved my life.” A glow of deep gratitude ran over him. “Thank you, thank you so much.” 

He struggled to his feet. “Can you... Can you drive me to my destination? I don’t think I can drive right now.”

“Of course,” Damon said without a second thought. He paid his taxi driver, who was still waiting and whose face was still in shock, and then he helped the man into the passenger seat of the Range Rover, and he jumped behind the wheel.

“Where to, sir?” Damon asked.

“Amphibious Corporation,” the man said, still a little shaky. “It’s downtown.”

Damon nodded and pulled away from the curb. Amphibious Corporation. He had heard the name before. It was the largest real estate company in New York City, a towering monolith of glass and steel that dominated the skyline. But Damon didn’t think too much about that.

He drove carefully, navigating the city streets until they reached the gleaming headquarters of Amphibious Corporation. He pulled up to the imposing entrance.

“Here we are, sir,” Damon said, turning off the engine.

The man looked at Damon, his eyes filled with a deep sincerity. “Young man, you saved my life. I owe you. Anything you want, just name it.”

Damon smiled. “No need, sir. I’m just glad I could help.” He genuinely meant it. The feeling of saving a life, of making a real difference, was a reward in itself.

The man nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Very well. But if you ever need anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“Thank you, sir,” Damon replied.

With that, Damon got out and took another taxi back to his dormitory; he needed to get ready for Jane’s party. He had a date in the form of the gorgeous Aria Golden. He couldn’t wait to see the looks on Jane and Xavier’s faces. They’d mocked him, called him a liar, and said he couldn’t date anyone decent. Tonight, he would silence them.

Just then, the familiar, clear voice resonated in his mind.

“Host. Your recent action of saving the old man’s life has been noted. This act of heroism, exceeding baseline expectations, has qualified you for a special reward.”

Damon’s heart leaped. A reward? “What kind of reward?” he thought, excitement bubbling up.

“You may ask for anything you desire. Within the System’s capabilities, your request will be granted.”

Damon’s mind reeled. Anything? He thought of all the things he’d ever wanted, all the dreams he’d suppressed. He could get a mansion or the latest car. He could ask for wealth and fame. But he didn’t want to make a hasty decision; this was too important.

“I’ll… I’ll make my request when I’m ready,” Damon thought back to the System. He wanted to think this through and he had a party to get to first and a statement to make.