The Next Billionaire

Frank Elroy stood at the edge of the city, eyes fixed on the towering skyline that mocked him with every blinking light. Three degrees, two honors, one brilliant mind—and yet, he was holding a brown envelope of rejections that felt heavier than any burden.

The wind cut across his coat as he walked past the marble walls of WrenTech Industries, the multinational tech empire that seemed to run half the city. Behind its glass façade, men in tailored suits rode elevators to executive floors. Frank couldn’t even get a receptionist to glance at his resume.

He had tried everything—government labs, think tanks, banks, startups. “Too overqualified,” some said. “No room,” others claimed. One interviewer had even asked why someone “so smart” couldn’t find a real job already.

That one stung.

Frank turned into a quiet diner, the same one he used to visit in high school. He ordered coffee he couldn’t afford and slid into a booth near the back. His fingers trembled as he unfolded yet another rejection letter.

“You always frown when you read, you know.”

Frank looked up. A warm smile greeted him—soft hazel eyes framed by caramel-brown curls. Ella.

“Ella?” he blinked.

“In the flesh,” she grinned, setting her cup down. “You look like you lost a war.”

“Feels more like I lost twenty,” he muttered.

She sat across from him without asking. “Still chasing those genius dreams?”

He smiled bitterly. “Trying. Mostly just running into walls.”

They talked. About high school. About life. About how the world didn’t quite make room for people like him. Ella listened—really listened. When she finally pulled a small flier from her bag, Frank didn’t know whether to be grateful or insulted.

“A janitor?” he asked, brows rising.

“They pay well,” she said quickly. “It’s WrenTech. My dad’s company. Full benefits. Internal opportunities.”

Frank stared at it. Scrubbing toilets in the same building where tech billionaires played gods? It felt like a cruel joke.

But he needed rent. He needed food. He needed... hope.

Three weeks later, he had a blue uniform with “Facilities” stitched across the chest and a badge that said "Temporary." He swept the marble floors of WrenTech by day and tried to study old algorithms at night.

He didn’t speak much. No one spoke to him.

Except Ella.

She found him sometimes during late shifts, bringing sandwiches or cracking jokes in the empty lobby. They weren’t best friends, but Frank found himself looking forward to seeing her.

One day, the cleaning crew was assigned to Floor 29—the executive boardroom level. No janitors were allowed up there except on special clearance. Today was one of those days.

Frank moved silently, mop in hand, when a loud voice from behind a glass door caught his ear.

“...then you crack it, Corbin! You all want to sit here and drive fleets of cars, but none of you understand the backbone of this company!”

Frank froze near the boardroom.

Another voice: “It’s impossible. The Chinese encrypted the T9Space code with layers even our best analysts can’t touch.”

The CEO’s voice thundered again: “Then we’re done. Sell the company. If no one here can unlock it, I’m done running a circus of suits!”

Footsteps stormed toward the door. Frank tried to move, but it opened before he could blink.

Winston Wrenford—the CEO and Ella’s father—stood in front of him.

“What are you gawking at?” the man snapped. “Clean up that mess.” He shoved a stack of shredded documents into Frank’s chest before brushing past him.

Frank exhaled as the boardroom emptied. The last to leave was a tall man in a three-piece suit with a serpent's smile. Mr. Corbin. Their eyes met for a second—just enough to chill Frank’s spine.

He stepped inside and began cleaning, careful not to disturb anything. But one document caught his eye—torn in half but still legible.

“Asset protocol embedded in T9 layer…”

Frank’s breath caught. He knew that name. T9Space. A theoretical security algorithm so complex, it was dubbed “The Code That Could Think.”

His professor had mentioned it once, long ago. No one had cracked it. Many believed it wasn’t even real.

Frank’s eyes drifted to the laptop still open on the table. A cryptic interface blinked. Symbols rotated on the screen. Patterns... familiar ones.

Something clicked.

He backed away slowly, heart racing. That night, he couldn’t sleep. He barely touched his food. All he did was stare at the symbols he scribbled down from memory.

He started trying to solve it.

Weeks passed. The code consumed him. Ella noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

“You okay?”

He lied. “Just tired.”

Late into the night, he worked in his small apartment surrounded by ramen cups and old textbooks. He failed. Again and again. But he couldn’t stop.

One evening, as rain tapped softly on his window, he slammed his laptop shut in frustration. “This is a waste of time,” he muttered. “This code doesn’t even exist.”

He stood, ready to trash everything.

Then, a voice echoed in his memory:
"Sometimes the most hidden thing is right in front of you."

Frank blinked.

He sat down.

He tried one more time.

The screen blinked. A new string appeared. His hands trembled. A sequence emerged from the madness—one word hidden in plain sight.

His voice cracked as he whispered,

To be continued…