The Supreme God of Wealth

Chapter 8

The SUV moved through the final stretch of the University District, the engine purring as it navigated the congestion near the campus gates. Adam was sitting in the back, his eyes tracing the skyline he had walked under for years, but his mind was elsewhere. He was still adjusting to the way his new lungs took in air; deep, easy, and without the familiar wheeze of his old frame.

​The car slowed as it approached the final busy intersection before the private faculty entrance. Adam looked out, and just then, a white transit van pulled up in the lane beside them. It was a common sight in a city this size, but as his gaze fell on the rear doors, his breath hitched.

​Printed in bold, golden ink was a soaring eagle logo. Underneath it, the words: Rick Global Logistics.

​In an instant, the bright morning sun seemed to wash out into a cold, artificial white. The dry street in his vision warped, shimmering into the oil-slicked, rain-drenched asphalt of that night. It was a sensory overload, a glitch in his consciousness caused by the system’s total neural optimization. It was forcing a corrupted memory to play back in high definition.

​He saw the eagle again. But this time, it wasn't stationary. It was moving at sixty miles per hour, illuminated by a flash of lightning as it moved away from his broken body. He felt the spray of icy puddle water against his skin and the sickening, wet thud that had ended his first life.

​The eagle on the van next to him wasn't just a corporate logo anymore. It was a signature left at a crime scene.

​Adam’s fingers curled into the leather armrest, his knuckles turning white. His jaw set into a hard, granite line.

​"System," Adam thought, his voice a low, internal snarl. "Audit the vehicle next to me. Cross-reference the fleet with the night of the accident."

​[Ding!]

[Scanning Rick Global Fleet Database...]

[Match Found. While the vehicle beside you is Unit #8201, records indicate Unit #7702—a matching model—was positioned at these exact coordinates during the time of Host’s cardiac arrest.]

[Note: Unit #7702’s internal GPS logs and dashcam footage were manually purged from the Rick Global server at 9:45 PM that same evening.]

​The red light at the intersection turned green. The Rick Global van accelerated, its engine roaring, but Adam stayed focused on that golden eagle until it disappeared into traffic.

​A purge. An accident is a mistake you report to insurance; a purge is a secret you bury in a digital grave. Charles hadn't just stood by while Adam suffered; he had used his family’s machinery to try and erase a human being.

​Adam looked down at his hands. They were iron-still. The cardiac arrest noted in the system logs was no longer a medical fact, it was a murder charge waiting for an executioner. He didn't just want justice; he wanted reckoning.

​The SUV rolled the final few yards and stopped right at the bottom of the marble stairs. This was the Dean’s private entrance, a spot usually saved for the school's most important guests and biggest donors.

Inside, the car was quiet, except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Outside, the sun hit the black paint so brightly it made people squint. A crowd of students gathered nearby, whispering and trying to see who was inside, but they stayed back.

​Elias got out and moved quickly to the back. He opened the door and stood tall, waiting. Adam stepped out, buttoning his jacket as he stood up. He felt the air hit his face, and for the first time in his life, he didn't feel the urge to hunch his shoulders or look at the ground. He looked straight ahead, his brown eyes scanning the architecture of the Faculty of Business and Economics as if he were inspecting a new purchase.

The crowd of students started to buzz. Whispers of "Who is that?" and "Is that a celebrity?" followed him as he walked. Adam didn't look at them. He kept his eyes on the glass doors where two campus security guards were waiting. Their faces changed from curious to suspicious as they watched him get closer.

​The taller officer stepped forward when Adam reached the stairs. He kept one hand near his belt, blocking the path. "Sir, this is a restricted entrance. Student parking is three blocks over, and visitors need to check in at the main gate."

Adam didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He simply reached into his pocket and pulled out his Titanium Fold, the screen already displaying a high-priority QR code generated by the university’s freshly updated VIP database.

"Check the manifest," Adam said, his voice dropping into a deep, heavy tone that commanded attention without needing to shout.

The officer hesitated, taken aback by the confidence radiating from the man in front of him. He pulled out his handheld scanner and swiped the code. A sharp, green light flashed, followed by a chime that sounded significantly louder than the standard entry beep. The officer’s eyes widened as he looked at the display.

"Mr. Carter?" the officer stammered, his gaze darting from the screen to Adam’s sharp jawline and back again. "The system says... Student ID 8842, but the biometric profile was just updated via the Endowment Office. High-Priority Donor status?"

"The records are current," Adam replied coldly. "Is there a problem?"

"No! No, sir. My apologies," the officer said, stepping aside so quickly he nearly tripped over his own boots. He held the door open, his previous suspicion replaced by a sudden desire to be helpful. "The Dean’s office is on the third floor, but I can escort you to the lecture hall if that is your destination."

"I know the way," Adam said, stepping past him into the air-conditioned hallway.

[Quest Update: Identity Verified.]

[System Note: University records now recognize the New Adam Carter as the primary account holder. Discrepancy cleared.]

[Reward: 50 Wealth Points + Passive Skill: Eye of the Investor (Active).]

Once the notification vanished, a strange sensation washed over Adam’s vision. For a split second, the world seemed to shimmer with translucent data. 

When he walked down the corridor, he looked at a group of students standing by a vending machine. Tiny floating text appeared near their heads: [Net Worth: $1,200], [Credit Score: 640], [Potential: Low].

He turned his gaze toward a plaque on the wall commemorating a donation from a local law firm. [Valuation: $250,000], [True Influence: Negligible].

The Eye of the Investor was already working. It stripped away the vanity and the lies, showing him the raw, financial truth of everything he looked at.

He reached the heavy oak doors of Lecture Hall 3. This was the Advanced Macroeconomics seminar, a class he had shared with Olivia and Charles for the last year. Usually, he would sneak in late, sitting in the very back row to avoid being noticed, praying that the professor wouldn't call on the fat kid to answer a question.

He checked his watch. The lecture had started ten minutes ago. Perfect.

He pushed the doors open. The heavy wood groaned on its hinges, and the rhythmic sound of Professor Halloway’s voice died instantly. Nearly two hundred heads turned toward the entrance.

Adam didn't move toward the back. He walked down the center aisle, his leather shoes clicking against the floor like a ticking clock. He could see Olivia sitting in the third row, her blonde hair perfectly styled. Beside her, Charles Rick sat with his arm draped over the back of her chair, looking bored and arrogant.

The Eye of the Investor kicked in as Adam’s gaze swept over them.

[Target: Olivia Vance]

[Net Worth: $15,000 (Personal), $450,000 (Projected Marital Gain)]

[Status: Social Climber / Volatile]

[Target: Charles Rick]

[Net Worth: $2.4 Million (Trust Fund), -$18 Million (Personal Liability Share of Rick Global)]

[Status: Impending Bankruptcy / High Arrogance]

Adam felt a sharp spark of cold amusement. Charles was walking around with a smile while sitting on a mountain of debt that was about to collapse.

"Sir?" Professor Halloway asked, adjusting his glasses. He didn't recognize Adam at all. "Are you in the right hall? This is a private seminar for enrolled students only."

Adam stopped at the very front of the room, standing just a few feet from the professor’s lectern. He turned slightly, facing the rows of students. He saw Olivia’s eyes narrow as she studied his face. She looked confused, her brow furrowing as she tried to place the familiar brown eyes in such an unfamiliar, striking face.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Professor," Adam said, his voice carrying to the very back of the hall. "I had some business to attend to with the Dean regarding the new faculty endowment."

"Endowment?" Halloway blinked. "You mean the anonymous five million?"

"Anonymous for now," Adam replied with a faint, dangerous smile.

He turned his gaze directly toward Charles.The rich kid was staring at him, his face caught between annoyance and suspicion. Charles didn't like anyone else being the center of attention, especially someone who looked like they could buy and sell him.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Charles muttered loudly enough for the front rows to hear. "Hey, pal, this isn't a fashion show. Take a seat or get out. Some of us are actually here to learn how to run businesses."

A few of Charles’s sycophants laughed, but it was weak. The way Adam stood there felt too heavy, too real. No one wanted to speak first.

Adam walked toward the third row. He stopped right in front of the seat Charles was occupying. He didn't say a word; he just looked down at him. The height difference was impossible to miss now.

"What are you looking at?" Charles snapped, his face reddening. "You want an autograph? Or maybe you’re looking for a job? Rick Global is always looking for drivers."

Olivia leaned forward, her eyes locked on Adam’s. "Wait," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Adam? No... that’s impossible."

The name rippled through the room. "Adam? Adam Carter? The guy from the video?"

"That can't be him," someone shouted from the back. "That guy was a whale. This guy looks like he owns the ocean."

Adam reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out his old, tattered student ID. He held it up between two fingers, letting Olivia and Charles see the bloated, miserable face on the plastic card. Then, he let it drop. It fluttered through the air and landed right in Charles’s lap.

"Keep it," Adam said, his voice like a blade. "Consider it a souvenir of the man you thought you could use as a footstool."

Charles stared at the card, his mouth hanging open. He looked at the photo, then up at the man standing over him. The look on Charles's face shifted from a smirk to a look of pure, panicked confusion.

"How?" Olivia stammered, standing up. She reached out as if to touch his arm, but Adam stepped back, his expression one of pure disgust. "Adam, what happened to you? Why didn't you answer my calls? I was so worried after yesterday..."

"Worried?" Adam asked, a short, sharp laugh escaping his throat. "I saw the video, Olivia. I saw the champagne. I saw you celebrating my disappearance with the man who tried to kill me."

The room went silent. The scandal was no longer a rumor; it was a live performance.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Charles growled, standing up to face Adam, though he had to look up to do it. "You’re just some loser who got lucky with a makeover. You think a suit makes you a big shot? You’re still nobody. My family built this faculty. My name is on the lounge downstairs."

Adam leaned in closer, his voice dropping so only the two of them could hear. "Your name is on a debt sheet that’s about to be called in, Charles. Rick Global needs fifteen million by Friday. You don't have it."

Charles blanched, the color draining from his face so fast he looked like a ghost. "How do you know that? Who the hell are you?"

Adam didn't answer. He turned his back on them and looked at Professor Halloway. "I believe we were discussing macroeconomics, Professor. Specifically, the impact of sudden market shifts on over-leveraged assets. Please, continue. I’d hate to miss the lesson."

Adam walked to the center of the front row; the seats usually reserved for the highest-achieving students, and sat down. He crossed his legs, looking perfectly at ease.

Behind him, he could hear Charles’s frantic breathing and Olivia’s hissed whispers. He could feel the eyes of two hundred people on the back of his neck.

He didn't care. He opened his phone and checked the market. The five percent stake in Rick Global’s debt was already showing as [Secured].

The leash was in his hand. Now, he just had to decide when to pull.

"Well," Professor Halloway cleared his throat, his hands shaking slightly as he picked up his chalk. "As I was saying... market volatility is often a reflection of hidden instability."

Adam smiled. The lesson was just beginning.