The Trillionaire’s Rise: Powered by a System Ring

CHAPTER 6 The Forty-Dollar Watch

The next morning, Rendi woke up to the sound of a neighbor's rooster. The first thing he did was touch the ring on his finger.

[Ding!] [Day 3 login successful.] [Reward: X-Ray Vision upgraded to Lv.2.] [Longer usage duration. Dizziness effect reduced.]

Rendi blinked a few times. His eyes felt lighter, and the world around him looked sharper.

He gave a small smile. Today he didn't forget to claim his reward.

By seven in the morning, Rendi was already squatting on the floor of Marco's garage. His hand held a wrench, and the first motorcycle tire lay in front of him.

"Not like that, Boss." Marco snatched the wrench. "Turn the bolt to the left. Left. You studied abroad, right? Didn't they teach you left and right?"

"They taught me economics."

"Economics can't unscrew a bolt."

Rendi tried again. This time the bolt moved. It took Rendi forty minutes for one tire, while Marco could finish it in ten.

When the third tire was done, Rendi's borrowed t-shirt was soaked in sweat. His palms were black, and his fingernails were full of oil.

Marco inspected his work, then nodded. "Not bad. First installment paid off."

Rendi sat on the rickety stool and took out his wallet. It contained seven hundred and twelve dollars.

Last night, after the investment skill entered his head, Rendi had calculated all the options. He could play such a small amount in the stock market, but the profit would be slow. Using a broker's loan was too risky for someone with no backup.

This money had to be multiplied through another route first.

"Marco, can I borrow your motorcycle this afternoon?"

"Where are you going?"

"Buy a phone. Then to the flea market."

Marco narrowed his eyes. "The flea market again? Are you trying to be a scavenger, Boss?"

"Trying to make money."

"At a flea market?" Marco laughed. "Alright then. As long as the bike comes back in one piece. I just filled the tank."

Marco tossed the motorcycle keys onto Rendi's lap. "The brakes are a bit loose. If you want to stop, hit them from far away."

A used phone at the counter near the market cost sixty dollars. The screen was scratched in the corner, but the battery was still strong.

The seller gave him a free starter pack. Rendi then saved two contacts in his new phone. The first belonged to Nadia, and the second was his mother's sister from Marco's garage receipt.

His finger hovered over the second contact for a long time. Finally, he put the phone in his pocket without pressing the call button.

'Later. After I have something to bring home.'

The Kenari Street Flea Market was busier than yesterday. The plate vendor who had mocked him yesterday now nodded politely as Rendi passed.

Rendi walked along the stalls one by one. This time he didn't use his eyes constantly. He only turned them on when he saw something that looked out of place.

At a used watch stall, a vendor with a mustache was arranging dozens of watches on a red cloth. Most of them were cheap, with plastic straps and dull glass.

Rendi's eyes stopped on one dull silver watch. Its leather strap was cracked, and the glass was cloudy.

Rendi focused his gaze. His eyes grew hot, but this time there was no throb at his temples.

The exterior of the watch faded. Inside, dozens of tiny gears moved precisely. Behind the movement plate was a small engraving: Aurelius & Fils, Geneva.

The investment skill worked unprompted. The information appeared clearly in his head.

'Aurelius & Fils. Limited production. Market price two to three thousand dollars, depending on condition.'

Rendi blinked, then pretended to look at the other watches first.

"Sir, how much is this silver one?"

The vendor glanced over. "That one? Forty dollars. The movement is dead, but it's good for display."

"If it's dead, will you take thirty?"

"Thirty-five. I need to eat too, Sir."

"The leather strap is cracked, Sir."

"That's why it's only thirty-five. If the strap were good, I'd sell it for a hundred."

Rendi handed over the money. The watch was wrapped in newspaper and moved to his shirt pocket.

The price of the watch was already in his head, but the buyer was not. The money would only be useful if the watch sold today. Rendi needed someone who knew the antique market in this city.

Rendi walked to the end of the alley, to Grandpa Harun's stall. The old man was wiping an oil lamp with a ragged cloth.

"Back already?" asked Grandpa Harun without looking up. "Yesterday you dismantled my statue, what are you dismantling today?"

"Got something, Grandpa." Rendi took the newspaper bundle from his pocket and opened it on the stall's table.

Grandpa Harun glanced at the dull silver watch, then snorted. "A trashy watch. How much did you pay?"

"Thirty-five."

"Too expensive."

"Grandpa, who in this city usually buys old watches? Someone who really understands them, not a flea market vendor."

Grandpa Harun stopped wiping. He looked at the watch longer, then looked at Rendi's face.

"Are you serious?"

"Serious."

Grandpa Harun put down his cloth. "There is one person. Mr. Lawrence, watch shop on Victoria Street. He's the only collector in this city who buys items without asking too many questions."

"Do you know him, Grandpa?"

"I used to sell items to him often. The man is stingy, but honest." Grandpa Harun pointed at the watch with his chin. "Are you sure that trashy watch will sell?"

"Sure, Grandpa."

Grandpa Harun asked no more. The old man just wrote the address on a scrap of newspaper and handed it to Rendi.

Rendi returned to Marco's motorcycle and headed downtown. Twice Rendi almost crashed into a cart because the brakes were indeed loose, exactly as Marco had warned.

Mr. Lawrence's shop was in a row of old shophouses on Victoria Street. The place was narrow and cool. The walls were covered with antique clocks ticking in unison.

Mr. Lawrence was a thin old man with thick glasses. He accepted the watch without much talk, then opened the back cover with a small tool.

As soon as he saw the movement, the old man's hands stopped.

"Where did you get this?"

"Flea market."

Mr. Lawrence stared at Rendi from behind his glasses. "Do you know what this is?"

"Aurelius & Fils. Limited production. The movement just needs cleaning."

"You are no ordinary person." Mr. Lawrence studied Rendi's face longer. "Wait. You are Rendi Martin, aren't you?"

"Did you watch the video too, Sir?"

"I don't watch gossip. I read business news." Mr. Lawrence snorted. "Three years ago you bought an antique pocket watch at auction. You paid double the fair price, just because your fiancée liked its shape."

Rendi remembered that pocket watch. Evelyn wore it as a necklace for a week, then never wore it again.

"I was a fool back then, Sir."

"And now?"

"Now I need money."

Mr. Lawrence let out a short laugh, a dry and brief sound. He placed the watch on a velvet cloth.

"One thousand two hundred dollars."

Rendi did not answer immediately. The skill in his head calculated quickly. The market price for the watch was two thousand five hundred, but a collector needed repair costs and profit.

Rendi also needed cash today, not next month.

"One thousand eight hundred," Rendi said.

"One thousand three hundred."

"You know the auction price is two thousand five hundred, Sir. I am giving you a clean profit after servicing." Rendi placed his hands on the table. "One thousand five hundred. Cash."

Mr. Lawrence stayed silent for quite a while. The clocks on the wall kept ticking.

Finally, the old man gave a faint smile. "One thousand five hundred. If you find an item like this again, bring it to me first."

Mr. Lawrence opened a drawer and counted out fifteen hundred-dollar bills. Rendi took the money and put it into his wallet.

Thirty-five dollars had turned into one thousand five hundred in a single afternoon.

Rendi held himself back from smiling too widely. He thanked the man and walked out of the shop.

[Ding!] [Analysis: Host's current capital $2,117.] [Note: This transaction was observed by another party.]

Rendi frowned. He looked up.

Across the street, a black car was parked. The window rolled down slowly.

Steven sat in the driver's seat. The man looked at Rendi, glanced at Mr. Lawrence's shop, then returned to Rendi's face.

"What a coincidence," Steven said with a smile. "Mr. Lawrence is a regular customer of mine, Rendi. What did you sell to him?"