The God of Wealth's System

Chapter 4

The man stepped into the lobby of the St. Regal Hotel with stiff shoulders. He could feel the contemptuous glares from the uniformed security guards standing by the revolving glass doors. With his torn courier jacket, mud-caked jeans, and the faint lingering scent of sewage, he looked like a dark stain amidst the luxury of the lobby, which was clad in pristine white Carrara marble.

A lobby manager in a sharp suit immediately intercepted him before Sean could even get close to the reception desk.

"Pardon me, sir. This area is for hotel guests only. If you are here to deliver a package, please use the rear entrance," the manager said. His tone was coated in fake politeness, but his eyes radiated a disgust that he could not hide.

Sean did not look down this time. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two hundred-dollar bills. He dropped them onto a small tray in the manager’s hand.

"This is for the cost of cleaning my muddy tracks off your floor. And I want the best suite available for tonight. Cash," Sean said in a low, cold voice.

The manager froze. He caught sight of the thick stack of cash inside the pocket of Sean’s tattered jacket. In an instant, the spine that had been so stiff and haughty bowed in deep respect. Money was indeed the most universal language in the world, especially in a place where dignity was measured by a bank balance.

Now, Sean stood in the center of a vast suite on the 42nd floor. The sound of hot water flowing from the gold faucets in the bathroom still rang in his ears. He had just spent nearly an hour lathering his body, scrubbing his skin until it turned red just to wash away the stench of that narrow alley and the bitter memories of the night.

He wore a soft, white silk bathrobe. It felt incredibly foreign against his skin, which was usually draped in rough, cheap cotton.

On a small table next to a large window overlooking the city lights sat a steaming wagyu steak and a glass of fresh orange juice. Sean sat down stiffly. He cut the meat with hands that trembled slightly. As the savory, melting fat touched his tongue, Sean went silent.

He remembered Sophia. For the past three years, Sean had often skipped lunch or eaten nothing but leftover bread just to save money. He wanted to buy Sophia designer dresses or branded bags so she wouldn't feel inferior in front of her friends. He had often lied, telling her he had eaten his fill at the office, even when his stomach ached with hunger.

"You were so stupid, Sean," he whispered to himself. A tear nearly fell onto the expensive porcelain plate. All his sacrifices had ended in betrayal on another man's bed.

Once his stomach was full, Sean lay down on the incredibly soft king-sized bed. He stared at the ceiling, which was adorned with minimalist, sparkling crystal chandeliers. His mind drifted back to the moment in the dark alley. The moment when his father’s heirloom coin was crushed into his flesh.

"This cannot be real," Sean muttered. He stared at his own hand under the lamplight. "I must be in a coma somewhere. Maybe I am already dead and this is some kind of brain simulation before I finally blink out."

SLAP!

Sean struck his own cheek with full force. A sharp, very real heat immediately spread across his face. He did it again. SLAP! This time his lip split slightly, bringing the metallic taste of blood to his mouth.

"It hurts," he murmured with a bitter, terrifying smile. "This is real. This pain is too real for a dream."

He lifted his right palm. There, the faint red coin symbol remained. It throbbed slowly, as if it had its own heartbeat. How could an ancient metal object turn into rows of digital code and merge with his nervous system? The human logic he had studied all his life could not provide an answer.

This system felt like both a parasite and a savior crawling through the marrow of his bones.

"Hey, are you there?" Sean asked the silence of the room.

[I am here, Mr. Alexander. Your heart rate is beginning to stabilize. Suggesting you rest immediately for optimal cell regeneration.]

The blue screen reappeared, floating calmly before his eyes. Sean took a deep breath. He decided to stop questioning it. The world had betrayed him, discarded him like a carcass, and stolen the only person he considered home. If a mystical power wanted to give him a chance to strike back, he would not refuse it.

"I do not care how you entered my body," Sean said, his eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. "As long as you give me the power to make Viktor and Sophia crawl at my feet, I will be your most loyal follower."

[Target Detected: Revenge. The System will assist you in achieving absolute dominance through the accumulation of wealth.]

Sean closed his eyes. For the first time in years, he did not have to wake up early to chase delivery targets. He did not have to think about overdue rent or the insults of a rude warehouse manager. Under the warm duvet, Sean fell into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, in a luxury penthouse just a few miles from Sean’s hotel, the festive atmosphere was still in full swing. The clinking of crystal glasses and soft jazz music filled the room.

Viktor Vane stood by a massive glass window displaying the city view. He wore only a shirt with the top buttons undone, a glass of expensive whiskey in his hand. Sophia Miller leaned affectionately against his shoulder, her slender fingers stroking Viktor’s chest.

"Are you sure that courier is finished, darling?" Sophia asked in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I don't want him suddenly showing up at my apartment door and begging again. That would be so embarrassing."

Viktor let out a small laugh. The sound was full of triumph. "Don't worry. My bodyguards never do a halfway job. When I left that alley, he couldn't even crawl. With a storm like this, he is likely already dead from the cold or blood loss."

Viktor pulled out his phone and opened a GPS tracking app. A small red dot blinked at a static location.

"Look at this. His phone signal is still in the alley behind your apartment. It hasn't moved an inch for the last two hours," Viktor said with a smirk. "I’m tracking it just to make sure his corpse is still there. Tomorrow morning, perhaps a stray dog or a janitor will find his remains in the trash pile."

Sophia laughed, then kissed Viktor’s cheek. "You are so thorough, Viktor. That is why I chose you. Sean... he was just trash that finally returned to its place of origin."

Viktor turned off his phone screen and set it on the table. "Tomorrow is our engagement party. The name Sean Alexander will be erased from the history of this world forever. Let us celebrate our victory, Sophia."

The two of them resumed their small dance, completely unaware that in a luxury hotel downtown, the corpse they were talking about was sleeping soundly with the power of a god flowing through his veins.

To be continued...