The Infinite Fortune System

Chapter 5

A few moments earlier, just as Elise entered Room 119, in the adjacent room, Jim enthusiastically opened the door to Room 120. His mouth watered at the thought of premium ancient wine. But he was immediately startled by the greeting from the women.

"Hey, handsome!"

Jim’s perverted mind was instantly stimulated. Internally, he praised Mr. Smith’s excellent taste. The three women chosen to entertain him were undeniably sexy and alluring.

Although Jim was initially a bit disappointed that his plan to make a sex tape with Elise had to be postponed—since his niece had been exclusively rented by Mr. Smith—he hadn’t expected such an equivalent replacement. Besides, the scandalous video meant for Eric could be made at any time.

‘Really, there’s no downside to this!’ Jim thought.

"Come, darling, let's have some fun." One of the women approached and pulled Jim’s tie.

Jim nodded, obedient like a chick following its mother.

In front of him was a table holding a basket of fruit, a golden-brown roasted chicken, and three bottles of wine.

"Sit down, darling."

The other two women swayed seductively while caressing the red chair. Their fingers traced the wood carvings adorning the top of the chair’s backrest.

Jim instinctively loosened his tie. He swallowed hard and sat in the plush chair with a broad grin.

"Why is there only one chair? Come on, sit on my lap. I’m strong enough to hold three sexy women. Hahaha!"

The women giggled coyly. One of them said, "We don’t need to sit to satisfy you better, handsome!"

"Wow! You’re making me hot!" Jim removed his jacket.

Just as Jim was about to kiss the woman in the silver dress, the woman in the red dress stopped him. "Eat first, darling. You need your strength, don’t you?"

Jim burst out laughing. "Alright," he said, playfully pinching the chin of the woman in the red dress.

Jim cut a piece of chicken thigh and devoured it hungrily. Occasionally, he accepted sips of wine fed to him by the woman in the yellow dress.

"Wine, pour me some wine," Jim requested as he continued chewing.

The woman in the silver dress grabbed a bottle of wine but struggled to open the cap.

"Give it to me," Jim extended his hand, intending to help open it.

"No need, darling. I know an easy way to open it."

"Then what are you waiting for? Do it now, my love!"

Crash!

"Argh!!" Jim's loud groan followed the sound of breaking glass.

Right on cue, the woman in the silver dress had opened the bottle in an extreme manner—by smashing it over Jim’s head.

"Well, darling, the wine is out now. Do you still want to drink it? But it’s mixed with your blood!"

Jim, who had initially shut his eyes while clutching his head in excruciating pain, now opened them and hissed. He immediately swatted away the glass the silver-dressed woman was holding, which had deliberately collected the blood dripping from his head.

"You’re insane! Damn woman! What the hell are you doing?!" He cursed loudly but then winced in pain.

"Darling, you’re scaring us," whined one of the other women.

Jim struggled to his feet, still holding his bleeding head. He staggered backward, then shouted, "Bastards! Who the hell are you?! Are you trying to kill me?!" He pointed at the women in front of him.

The woman in the red dress pulled a revolver from beneath her gown, raising it and aiming directly at Jim.

Jim froze. Something lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Likewise, his heart reacted to the emergency, pounding so hard that his chest trembled.

He wasn’t ready to die!

"I’ll kill you if you refuse to transfer all the money in your account." The woman in the red dress gave him a sharp glare—there was no longer any trace of sweetness or seduction on her face.

"You’re robbing me?! No way in hell!"

Bang!

Jim's heart nearly leaped out of his chest. He clutched his heaving chest and turned to see the bullet hole in the wall.

Without giving him a chance to react, the women pressed him further.

"My friend won’t waste another bullet. It would be too easy for her to shoot straight into your heart."

The woman in the yellow dress stepped closer and whispered into Jim's ear, "Let me tell you a secret. She’s a former sniper!"

Jim’s eyes bulged. His situation was already dire. The blood loss from his head was making him dizzy, yet now he was facing even crazier intimidation.

"Okay! Okay! Take all my money, just let me go."

Jim had never willingly donated even a single penny to a beggar, but now he was being forced to hand over everything he had.

Jim swore he would get revenge for this. But for that, he had to stay alive! So, for now, he begrudgingly entered his banking PIN into his phone and made the transfer.

The women laughed triumphantly as they drained Jim’s account. One of them held Jim’s phone up to his face, showing the beautiful sight of a zero-dollar balance.

Jim gritted his teeth, but he was powerless. Everything had spiraled completely out of control and beyond prediction. The pleasure he had been anticipating had turned into a catastrophic nightmare.

"As a thank-you gift, I’ll stitch up and bandage your wound. I don’t want you passing out, darling." The woman in the silver dress revealed a needle she planned to use to ‘treat’ Jim’s injury.

"What are you doing? Please, give me anesthesia first. Don’t just sew me up—ow!" Jim winced in pain as his wound was roughly cleaned with alcohol.

Then, a much greater pain followed as his wound was stitched without any anesthetic.

"Argh! Argh! Please, stop. Argh!"

Outside the door of Room 120, a male guard winced at the sound of Jim’s agonized screams. He knew just how sadistic his colleagues could be when dealing with a target.

Moments later, the woman in the red dress stepped out. Casually, she said to the guard, "He fainted. Clean everything up and put him in a sack. I’ll report to the boss."

The guard nodded and entered the room without a word.

Meanwhile, the woman in the red dress took a deep breath in front of Room 119. She knocked on the door, slightly nervous. "Sir, Evelyn wishes to report."

Eric opened the door, with Elise standing behind him, looking anxious.

"The mission is complete, Sir. We took all his money. Kevin and the others are cleaning up now."

"Good! Keep all the money for yourselves, split it evenly."

Evelyn Miller, who was nine years older than Eric, bowed respectfully. "Thank you very much, Sir."

Elise clutched her brother’s arm. "What if someone finds out about all this? Uncle Jim was screaming so loudly, and there was a gunshot. What if the other guests heard? And what if Aunt Peyton finds out?" Elise bombarded him with questions, her heart uneasy.

Even though Eric had explained many things to her earlier—including his plan to teach their uncle a lesson—Elise hadn’t expected her brother to act so boldly. She didn’t want Eric to get into trouble, let alone end up in prison.

"Don’t worry, Miss. There are no other guests on this floor. Mr. White rented out the entire third floor."

Elise’s eyes widened. She turned to Eric, staring in disbelief.

Then Kevin Anderson, the guard, exited Room 120. He was dragging a large gray suitcase.

"Sir, what should we do with him?"

Elise’s eyes widened in horror. "I-is that Uncle Jim?"