The Super Rich System

Paying The Debt

“Um, Marvin…” Emily said, looking at Marvin anxiously. “About your promise to pay off the shop’s debt tonight—do you still think that’s possible? I mean, even our total revenue is nowhere near a million dollars, let alone thirty million.”

Marvin gave a confident smirk and nodded.

“You’re right. What the shop makes is still far from the amount we owe. But you don’t need to worry about it. By tonight, I will have enough money to settle the debt and make those gangsters leave us alone for good,” Marvin said.

Even though he spoke with absolute certainty, Emily found it hard to fully believe that everything was going to be okay.

“Are you serious? Do you plan to use your own money to pay off the shop’s debt?” she asked.

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t be a problem, right? I’m the owner of this noodle shop, after all. It’s my responsibility to make sure this business can keep running without debt hanging over it,” Marvin replied.

Once again, his confidence impressed Emily deeply. When Marvin looked at her steadily, her cheeks flushed pink again. She quickly turned her gaze to her glass and pretended to take a sip.

“You can get back to work now. I’ll keep an eye on everything from here,” Marvin said.

“All right,” Emily answered, setting down her still-full glass and standing up to leave.

Marvin watched her walk away for a moment. He only then noticed that Emily had a beautiful hourglass figure with soft, graceful curves—and a round, firm backside.

But he didn’t let his thoughts wander there for long. Right now, all he cared about was the reward he had been promised: one thousand times the shop’s earnings over the past three days. When would it arrive?

Marvin waited for several minutes, hoping to hear that mechanical voice again. When nothing happened, he silently asked in his mind, as if speaking directly to that mysterious presence: ‘When will I receive my reward?’

A few seconds later, the robotic voice finally sounded in his head:

[The promised reward will be granted exactly at midnight, 00:00 hours.]

This news made Marvin feel both relieved and uneasy. The deadline for paying the debt was 11:59 PM that same night. How was he supposed to settle it if the one hundred and thirty million dollars only arrived one minute later?

Marvin tapped his fingers against the table, thinking hard.

‘Hey, can I get the reward earlier? Is there any way to speed this up?’

[That option is available. However, there is a consequence that Master must accept.]

“What kind of consequence?”

The system explained the terms, and Marvin frowned in thought.

It was indeed a risky thing to take. He could even die if things got worse.

[Does Master still wish to proceed with this option?]

Marvin narrowed his eyes, considered it for a moment, then said firmly, ‘I’ll take it.’

...

Still the same night, eleven minutes before midnight…

“Just as I expected, Boss. That bastard doesn’t show up. He probably ran off somewhere. Hiding,” Baron said.

Walter puffed on his cigar slowly, blowing the smoke upward through his nose and mouth.

“It’s okay,” he said calmly. “We’ll tear that noodle shop to pieces first. Then we’ll hunt him down. No matter where he runs, we’ll find him.”

They were inside the base of the Black Skull gang—an old warehouse with access to a hidden basement, located not far from the Chinatown district where Bowl of Heaven stood.

Walter glanced down at his gold-plated wristwatch.

“Ten minutes left,” he said. “Tell everyone to get ready. We move straight to the Chinatown the moment the clock strikes midnight.”

“Got it, Boss.”

Baron turned and left, leaving Walter alone in the room. Behind him hung a large painting of a black skull, measuring two meters wide by three meters tall.

“Useless fool. Yesterday you acted so tough, challenging me and swearing you’d transfer thirty million dollars into my account. Where is it now? And here you are, failing to keep your word. To be honest, Marvin… I’m disappointed.”

Walter spoke with arrogant amusement, then took another drag from his cigar. Wisps of white smoke drifted into the air.

For the next few minutes, he enjoyed his smoke while grinning and nodding to himself, imagining the look of despair on Marvin’s face when he saw his shop reduced to rubble.

Tap… tap… tap…

Baron hurried back inside, his footsteps quick and his expression tense. Clearly, something had gone wrong.

“Boss, we got a situation,” Baron said.

“What kind of situation?” Walter asked, fixing him with a sharp look.

“He’s here, Boss. That bastard… he’s here.”

Walter, who had just lifted his cigar to take another puff, froze mid-motion.

“You mean Marvin? He actually came all the way here to our base?”

“Yes, Boss. And that’s not all… He… he left several of our men badly injured.”

Walter frowned. “What?”

“When he arrived, some of our guys blocked his path and tried to provoke him. He beat them so badly their bones are broken.”

Walter stood up abruptly, his pupils widening in shock.

“You’re telling me the truth, aren’t you?” he demanded.

“I swear it, Boss,” Baron replied.

Walter let out a low growl. His hand tightened into a fist so hard the remaining half of his cigar snapped and crumbled.

“Take me to him,” he ordered.

Baron led the way, and Walter followed.

There stood Marvin, a terrifying and overwhelming aura radiating from his body. Walter’s men surrounded him but kept their distance, looking nervous… and clearly afraid.

“Make way!” Walter shouted loudly.

The gang members immediately stepped aside, clearing a path for him to walk through.

Marvin turned his head toward him, his gaze sharp and fierce.

“I thought you wouldn’t dare show up, Marvin,” Walter said as he stepped forward, Baron right behind him, a pistol already in his hand.

“I came here just as I promised. But is this the welcome I get? Did you set a trap for me on purpose, Walter?” Marvin shot back.

Walter and Baron stopped in their tracks. Walter lifted his chin and stared coldly at Marvin.

“Only a few minutes left before the deadline I gave you. Did you bring the money, boy?” he asked, his tone dripping with disdain.

“I did,” Marvin answered firmly.

He turned around and walked a few steps, then bent down to pick something up—a large black duffel bag.

“Thirty million, right? Here it is,” Marvin said, tossing the bag toward Walter.

Walter glanced at the bag briefly, then fixed his eyes back on Marvin.

“You’re saying that there’s thirty million dollars in cash inside this bag?” he asked, raising one eyebrow skeptically.

“Open it and see for yourself,” Marvin replied.

Walter frowned, looking back at the bag.

Thirty million in physical cash? Did that even make sense? Where could someone like Marvin possibly get that amount so quickly?

…