The Trillionaire's Revenge: 100x Cashback System.

The smell of burnt steak and expensive wine filled the grand dining room of the Vance estate, but all Caleb could taste was blood from where he’d bitten the inside of his cheek.

"Clean it up, useless," Martha hissed, flicking her wrist with casual disgust.

Before Caleb could even pull his hands back, the heavy glass bowl tilted. Scalding onion soup splashed straight over Caleb’s worn, faded leather shoes. The heat soaked into his thin socks immediately, stinging his raw skin. He bit down harder, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second before forcing himself to wipe the rich broth off the mahogany floor with a rag.

Around the long, oak dinner table, no one stopped eating. His father-in-law, Arthur, didn't even look up from his financial news feed. Sitting across from Caleb was Chloe—his wife of two years. She looked stunning in a deep green silk gown, a gown Caleb had worked three extra night shifts a week for two months straight to buy her.

She wasn't looking at Caleb. She was looking at Julian Cole, the heir to Cole Logistics, who sat right beside her with a smug, relaxed grin, idly twirling a gold Rolex on his wrist.

"Mom, don't waste good soup on a stray dog," Julian chuckled, taking a slow sip of red wine. "If he's hungry, he can eat the scraps off the floorboards. Right, Caleb?"

Caleb squeezed the coarse cotton towel in his palm, his knuckles turning stark white. He stood up slowly, keeping his eyes lowered. "The floor is clean."

"Good," Chloe said. Her voice was flat, completely devoid of warmth. She reached into her leather handbag, pulled out a thick Manila envelope, and slid it across the polished table. "Then sign this so we can wrap this up."

Caleb looked down at the top page. The bold, black lettering at the header hit him like a physical blow: Agreement for Dissolution of Marriage.

His stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. A sudden, nauseating coldness spread through his chest, making it hard to draw air into his lungs. He stared at Chloe, his mind reeling in pure shock. Divorce? After everything?

"Chloe... what is this?" Caleb managed to say, his throat dry, his voice barely a raspy whisper. "What are you doing?"

"Julian bought out my father's business debt today," Chloe said coldly, adjusting a diamond earring. "He's taking me to Capital City next week. You’ve been nothing but a drag on my family for two years, Caleb. You’re a delivery guy making four thousand dollars a month. You can't even pay your sister's dialysis bills without begging, let alone support my lifestyle. We're done."

The words felt like physical punches. Caleb stumbled back half a step, staring at the woman he had loved, unable to reconcile her cold gaze with the person he married. "Chloe, please... I paid off your family's tax audit just last month," he stammered, his hands trembling as panic set in. "I worked eighteen-hour days! I barely slept three hours a night so your father wouldn't go to jail—"

"With spare change!" Martha sneered, slamming her fork down. She stood up, snatched a heavy silver pen, and shoved it hard into Caleb's chest. "Julian gave us a two-million-dollar investment today! What have you given us? Embarrassment! Sign the papers and get out of my house!"

Julian stood up, casually pulling a crumpled fifty-dollar bill from his pocket and tossing it onto the floor near Caleb's feet. "Here’s a tip for the soup cleanup, broke boy. Take it and buy yourself a bus ticket out of the city."

Caleb looked at the bill on the floor, then at Chloe. She deliberately turned her face away, refusing to meet his eyes.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. The shock slowly turned into a dead, hollow numbness. Caleb realized there was nothing left to fight for. With numb fingers, he took the pen, signed his name on the dotted line, and dropped the folder onto the table.

"Leave the coat," Martha barked. "Julian bought that coat rack!"

Caleb unzipped his cheap jacket, dropped it on the mat, and stepped out into the pouring rain in just a thin t-shirt and jeans. The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind him, the lock clicking with finality.

The storm was unrelenting. Cold rain lashed against his face, soaking his hair and chilling his skin to the bone within seconds. He walked down the dark driveway, shivering uncontrollably, his mind a complete blank as tears mixed with the rainwater on his cheeks.

Ding.

A sharp, metallic tone echoed directly inside his brain.

[System Binding Initiated...]

Caleb gasped, jumping violently. He spun around in the middle of the dark street, gasping for breath. "Who's there?!"

He slapped both palms tightly over his ears, his heart hammering against his ribs in sheer terror. Am I losing my mind? Am I having a stroke?

[100x Cashback & Absolute Dominance System Activated!] [Rule 1: Any money spent by the Host returns 100x instantly into Host's primary bank account.] [Rule 2: Any contempt or betrayal converts into permanent System Points.]

"Stop, stop, stop!" Caleb shouted into the empty, rain-slicked road, pressing his hands harder against his skull. "I'm going crazy. I've officially lost it."

Buzz.

His cracked phone vibrated violently in his pocket. Shaking uncontrollably, Caleb pulled it out with wet fingers. A text notification lit up the screen.

NOTIFICATION: First Capital Bank. Your account ending in 4092 has received a wire transfer of $10,000,000.00 USD.

Caleb stared at the numbers. He blinked once. Twice. He squeezed his eyes shut, wiped the rain off the glass with his damp sleeve, and looked again.

Ten million dollars.

"This is a scam. It's a glitch," he muttered nervously, his breath hitching. "Someone made a mistake. Or my brain is making this up because I'm freezing to death."

Then a second notification popped up—an official legal notice from Vanguard Legal, the city's most elite corporate firm: Mr. Vance, as of 11:00 PM, 100% of the equity shares of Cole Logistics have been transferred to your trust. Emergency board meeting scheduled for 8:00 AM.

Caleb stood frozen under the streetlamp, the cold rain pouring down his neck. His hands were still shaking, but as he stared at the two messages, a strange warmth began to spread through his chest—a sudden, grounding rush of energy that cleared the fog from his head.

He wiped his face, his breathing settling down. He looked down at his drenched, soup-stained shirt and his soaked leather shoes squishing with cold water.

"First things first," Caleb muttered to himself, his voice tight as he gripped his phone. "I need dry clothes."