The Sovereign’s Retribution: Daily Login to Godhood

Chapter 2: The Invisible Fortune

Silas woke up and the pain was less.

Not gone. Not even close. But yesterday his ribs had screamed every time he breathed. Today they only shouted.

He noticed it immediately. The difference was small, but it was real. Cellular Regeneration Lv.1 was working.

He opened the System interface with a thought. The golden text appeared in his vision.

「 Day 2 Sign-In available. Would the Host like to sign in? 」

He pressed it.

「 Ding! Day 2 Sign-In successful! 」

「 Congratulations! The Host has obtained: 」

「 1. $50,000 」

「 2. Basic Healing Pill x2 」

Two small icons appeared in his INVENTORY grid. He checked his STATUS.

「 Wealth: $100,050,014 」

'Fifty thousand on top of a hundred million,' Silas thought. 'Common reward. But it adds up.'

He focused on the Healing Pills in his inventory. A description popped up.

「 Basic Healing Pill — Accelerates natural healing when consumed. Effect duration: 6 hours. Minor injuries healed completely. Major injuries reduced by approximately 20%. 」

Useful. But he couldn't take one right now. A nurse could walk in at any moment. Watching a man's bruises fade in real time would raise questions he couldn't answer.

He closed the interface and stared at the ceiling.

One hundred million dollars sat in his bank account. But he was lying in a charity ward with no phone, no laptop, and no way to access a single cent. The money was invisible. Useless.

'I need my phone.'

The door opened. Nurse Darla walked in with a tray of hospital food — gray oatmeal, a bruised apple, and a cup of water.

"Morning, Mr. Vane." She set the tray on his bedside table. "How are you feeling today?"

"Better than yesterday."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's good to hear. Most patients with your injuries say it gets worse before it gets better."

"I'm not most patients."

She smiled at that. "Clearly not. You need anything?"

Silas looked at her. "My personal belongings. When I was brought in — did I have anything on me? A phone? A wallet?"

Darla thought for a moment. "The police collected your things at the scene. They should have been transferred to the hospital's patient property storage. Let me check for you."

"I'd appreciate that."

She turned to leave, then paused at the door. "You know, you've barely asked for anything in eleven days. Most patients hit the call button every twenty minutes."

"I didn't have anything to ask for," Silas said. "Now I do."

She gave him a curious look, then left.

While he waited, Silas pulled up the System menus again. He'd rushed through them yesterday. Time to be thorough.

QUEST BOARD. He opened it.

「 No active quests. Quests are generated based on the Host's actions and circumstances. 」

Nothing yet. He moved on.

APPRAISAL. Still locked. He tapped it.

「 Appraisal is currently locked. Unlock condition: Obtain an Appraisal-class item. 」

The Beginner's Crate in his inventory was still grayed out. The System had told him he was too weak to open it. He checked again.

「 Beginner's Crate — Can be opened at any time. Warning: Contents include a skill installation. Host is advised to be in a stable condition. 」

The warning had changed. Yesterday it blocked him. Today it was just a warning.

'My body is already healing faster,' Silas thought. 'But I'll wait. One thing at a time.'

He closed the interface and ate the oatmeal. It tasted like wet cardboard. But his body needed the calories, and for the first time in eleven days, he actually cared about recovering.

Twenty minutes passed.

The door opened. Darla came back holding a clear plastic bag. Inside it: a battered smartphone with a cracked screen, a thin leather wallet, and a set of keys to an apartment he'd already been evicted from.

"Here you go," she said, handing him the bag. "The phone might not work. It took some damage."

Silas pulled out the phone. The screen was shattered in the lower left corner, but when he pressed the power button, it lit up. 4% battery.

"Do you have a charger I can borrow?" he asked.

"I'll find one. Give me a minute."

She left again. Silas opened the wallet with his good hand. Inside: his bank card, a faded photo of his parents he didn't look at, and fourteen dollars in cash.

Darla returned with a charger. He plugged the phone in and waited. At 6%, he opened the banking app.

His fingers were stiff and swollen. The cracked screen made it hard to type. He entered his PIN wrong twice before getting it right on the third try.

The app loaded.

The screen showed his account balance.

$100,050,014.00

Silas stared at the number. His hands started to shake. Not from pain. Not from fear.

'It's real.'

He read it again. One hundred million, fifty thousand, and fourteen dollars. The fifty thousand from today's sign-in was already there.

'The System is real. The money is real.'

He put the phone face-down on the bed and took a slow breath. Then another. His heart was pounding.

'Don't react. Don't draw attention. Think.'

He had a hundred million dollars in a charity ward. The billing department thought he was broke. The hospital's charity program had a maximum stay limit. In two weeks, they'd try to discharge him whether he was healed or not.

But he didn't need their charity anymore.

Silas picked up the phone and dialed the hospital's main line. A receptionist answered.

"St. Caelum General, how may I direct your call?"

"Billing department, please."

"One moment."

Hold music. Thirty seconds.

"Billing, this is Karen speaking."

"This is Silas Vane. Patient in Ward 7B. I'd like to settle my outstanding balance."

A short pause. He could hear her typing. "Mr. Vane... yes, I have your file here. Your current balance is forty-seven thousand, three hundred and twelve dollars. Are you calling to set up a payment plan?"

"No. I'd like to pay it in full. Today."

Silence on the other end.

"I'm sorry — did you say in full?"

"Yes. And I'd like to upgrade to a private suite."

Karen let out a small laugh. "Sir, our private suites run four thousand dollars per night. With your current financial situation—"

"Check my account," Silas said calmly. "The card on file is linked to Veridian National Bank. Account ending in 4417."

More typing. A long pause.

The laugh was gone.

"Sir... I'm going to need to verify this with my supervisor. Can you hold?"

"Take your time."

---

In the billing office on the third floor, Karen Cho stared at her monitor.

She had pulled up the bank verification screen for patient Vane, Silas — Ward 7B. Charity program. No insurance. The kind of patient whose file she processed ten times a day.

The account balance field showed a number she had never seen on a charity patient's record.

She blinked. Refreshed the screen. The number stayed.

Her supervisor, Ted, was eating a sandwich at the next desk.

"Ted."

"Yeah?"

"Come look at this."

Ted walked over, chewing. He looked at the screen. He stopped chewing.

"That's... that's nine figures."

"He wants to pay his bill in full," Karen said. "And upgrade to a private suite."

Ted set his sandwich down. "Is this a system error?"

"I ran verification twice. It's real."

They both stared at the screen.

Ted picked up the phone. "Get me the floor manager for Ward 7. Now."

---

In Ward 7B, Silas waited on hold.

The cracked phone was warm against his ear. The battery was at 11% and climbing slowly on the borrowed charger.

He looked at the fourteen cracks in the ceiling. At the thin blanket. At the gray oatmeal he'd eaten for the eleventh day in a row.

'This is the last day I spend in this room.'

The hold music cut out. A new voice came on the line — not Karen. Someone more senior.

"Mr. Vane? This is Ted Chen, billing supervisor. We've verified your account. I want to apologize for the confusion."

"No confusion," Silas said. "Just process the payment."

"Of course, sir. And regarding the private suite — I'll have arrangements made within the hour. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

Silas leaned back against his pillow. "Send someone to take my breakfast order. I'm done with the oatmeal."

He hung up.

Outside his door, he could hear footsteps. Fast ones. More than one set. Someone was already coming.

'One hundred million dollars,' Silas thought. 'And they still don't know about the System. About the skills. About the crate I haven't opened yet.'

He smiled again. Small. Dangerous.

'This is Day 2. And they're already scrambling.'