The Supreme God of Wealth

Chapter 4

Elizabeth’s jaw dropped, then she laughed. It was a short, mocking bark. "You? That room's $200,000 a night. Nobody's touched it in years because even the rich know it's a rip-off. You sure you didn't mean the broom closet?"

"I said that's what I want," Adam repeated, his face heating up. He knew his pockets were empty—no phone, no wallet, just the invisible interface only he could see.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. We don’t take promises here. Since you’re clearly lacking... well, everything... use the terminal." She shoved a sleek, black crystalline plinth toward him. It was a Biometric High-Net-Worth Scanner, reserved for clients who didn't want to carry plastic. "Press your thumb there. If you have the funds, the Global Banking Cloud will authorize it. If not, security’s dragging you out by your collar."

For two years, that VIP room sat empty. Big shots turned it down, calling it a money pit. Elizabeth figured this was her shot to see a fraud get arrested in real-time.

Adam stepped up. He didn't have a phone to check, but the System’s golden HUD hovered in his vision, showing a balance that made his head spin. He pressed his thumb onto the cold glass.

A soft chiming echoed through the lobby. The plinth glowed a deep, regal gold. 

[TRANSACTION AUTHORIZED: $200,000.00] flashed across Elizabeth’s monitor in giant green text.

Elizabeth stared at the screen, her face going white. She refreshed it twice, mouth agape. "It... it went through. No external device, just a direct biometric pull..."

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she fumbled for the card. But then her expression shifted—not to respect, but to something colder. She handed over the Golden VIP Membership Card and her business card, but her voice was flat. "Here. You're VIP now. I'll tell the manager."

The other receptionist gaped, then snorted. "Must be a ghost account or a black-market bypass. No way a pig like him earns that legit."

Adam ignored her, pocketing the heavy gold card. It was the only physical thing he owned now.

​[Notice: System has established a Shadow Tier-1 bridge. All biometric queries are being routed through a secure encryption layer. To the world's banking servers, you are now an untouchable high-net-worth entity.]

[Time remaining: 00:30:00]

"Can I see the room?" he asked.

Elizabeth nodded curtly and led him to the elevator, her posture stiff. When the doors closed, she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear, "Hope you enjoy it while it lasts. The bank will probably flag that identity fraud by morning."

The elevator hummed up, and Adam felt a knot twist in his gut. This was supposed to be his turnaround, but every word from her lips felt like a slap. When the doors opened on the top floor, the suite sprawled out; plush carpets, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights, a bed big enough for five. But before he could take it in, shouts echoed from down the hall.

"Get out, you worthless old fool!" a man's voice boomed.

Adam rushed toward the noise, Elizabeth trailing behind with a sigh. In the hallway, a burly security guard towered over the elderly man Adam had spotted earlier. The old guy cowered, clutching his cleaning bucket, his face bruised and blood trickling from a split lip.

"Please, I just need my pay," the old man begged, his voice cracking. "I've worked here for years."

The guard laughed, shoving him hard. "Pay? For what, dropping crap everywhere? You're fired, and if you don't scram, I'll break your legs."

Adam stepped forward. "Hey, stop! What's going on?"

The guard whirled, sizing him up with a sneer. "Who the hell are you? Another bum sneaking in?"

"I'm a guest," Adam said, flashing the Golden Card. "VIP."

The guard barked a laugh. "You? Look like you crawled out of a dumpster. This ain't your business, fatty. Move along before I toss you too."

Elizabeth chimed in, her tone dripping venom. "Sir, this is hotel matters. The old man's a thief—caught pocketing supplies. Best stay out."

"But the quest—" Adam started, then clamped his mouth shut.

The old man looked up at Adam, eyes desperate. "Help me, please. They owe me wages, but they're cheating me out."

The guard grabbed the old man by the collar, slamming him against the wall. "Shut your trap, geezer."

Adam's heart pounded. This was his quest; rescue the guy. "Let him go. I'll pay whatever he needs."

The guard's eyes narrowed. "Oh yeah? Prove you're not full of shit."

Adam didn't have a phone to pull out. He reached for the guard’s own handheld merchant tablet hanging from his belt. "Use the biometric transfer on that tablet now."

The guard sneered but held it out, expecting a 'Declined' message. Adam pressed his thumb to the tablet’s sensor. Ping. A notification appeared: $50,000 transferred to Employee Relief Fund / Recipient: Samuel Vance.

The old man’s own dated flip-phone chirped in his pocket. He checked it, eyes widening. "You... you did it. Thank you."

But the guard wasn't done. "Big deal. Doesn't change that you're both trash." He shoved the old man toward the elevator, then turned to Adam. "And you—get in your room before I report you for interfering."

The crowd laughed, phones out, snapping pics of the disheveled "VIP" and the janitor. "Hey, everyone, check out the fat knight in shining armor!"

Adam's face burned as he backed into the suite. The door clicked shut, but the humiliation lingered, heavy as lead. He slumped against the wall, breath ragged.

[Quest (1): Completed]

[Reward: 10 Wealth points]

[New societal status update: Rising, but fragile]

But outside, he heard the guard's voice boom again. "That idiot thinks money fixes everything. Wait till the manager hears. He'll be out on his ass by morning. No way that biometric signature is real."

Adam froze. Was this all a setup? The system had revived him, given him power, but now fate twisted the knife deeper. Suddenly, the suite’s built-in smart TV flickered to life, showing local social media feeds. Memes of his face were already circulating. "Loser buys his way in, still gets owned."

[Time for the next quest is approaching.]

He stared at the city lights, wondering if this life was just a slower way to die. But then a knock rattled the door. It sounded urgent. "Open up! Police! We got reports of a high-level digital heist and identity fraud!"

Adam's blood ran cold. Without a phone of his own to prove the account was his, he was defenseless against the optics of the situation. How had it all gone wrong so fast?