chapter 2
Author: Oyin Aduke
last update2025-01-13 08:40:55

Charles Grey's nostrils filled with a harsh, sterile odor as he opened his eyes briefly. He shuddered at the glaring fluorescent lights overhead. He blinked a lot as he tried to get used to his strange environment. His intuition was reinforced by the faint buzz of equipment and the clinical beeping of a heart monitor: he was in the hospital.

For a minute, he lay there, trying to piece together what had happened. His head pounded, and his body felt heavy with lead. Raising himself gingerly on one elbow, he sank back into the bed as soon as a piercing pain sprang through his temples.

“What on earth happened to me?" he murmured, his voice barely audible and harsh.

Memories began to arise, fragmented and jumbled. The hotel night. Humiliation's oppressive weight. The enigmatic voice had been echoing in his mind. Then the darkness fell.

Just as he was trying to piece everything together, the same frightening and mechanical voice resounded in his thoughts.

“[LINKING THE BLACK CARD SYSTEM…]”

Charles froze, his heart pounding in his chest.

“10%, 30%, 50%, 80%, and 100%. THE BLACK CARD SYSTEM WAS ACTIVATED BY YOU."

"What...what is this?" he murmured, holding his head.

Before he could comprehend the words, a translucent screen with dim lighting and a floating motion materialized in front of him. The information displayed was cryptic yet undeniable:

[System Host: Charles Grey].

[Balance: $28].

[Body: Weak due to exhaustion and trauma].

[Mind: Normal (29).]

[Skills: Unavailable. Complete missions to unlock.]

[Black Card Point: 0].

Charles' breathing was shallow as he looked at the screen. His voice was nearly audible as he questioned himself, "Am I... hallucinating?"

Before he could think about it any longer, the voice came back, monotone and icy:

"The first task is to spend one million dollars in a single day. The system will be deactivated in the event of failure."

A heartbeat skipped through his chest. His voice rising, he repeated incredulously, "A million dollars?" He laughed violently at the silliness of it all.

"You expect me to spend a million dollars in a single day when I can't even afford to pay my rent?"

The screen flickered, as if in response. His eyes widened as he noticed the dramatic change in the balance ($1,000,028).

Charles' hands trembled as he searched for his phone. His breath caught when he opened his banking app and saw the notification that his account balance had risen to $1 million.

His voice was shaking as he murmured, "No, this can't be real."

He massaged his eyes, hoping the numbers would disappear. But they didn't. As though mocking his skepticism, the money was there, looking back at him.

Wincing at the sting, he gave himself a hard pinch. There was no dream here. It was authentic.

The realization weighed heavily on Charles as he sat in stunned silence. His mind was full of questions. What is this system? Why me? What if I don't succeed? But, despite his bewilderment, one thought stood out: this is my opportunity.

For years, he had been mocked and contemptuously treated by everyone around him—Sophia's cold contempt, Ethan's relentless taunting, and the sneers of strangers who dismissed him as a failure. This strategy, however, enabled him to revise his story.

Charles flung his legs over the side of the bed, his stance unsteady but strong. His body protested, but his determination remained unwavering.

To get to The Imperial Crown, the most opulent hotel in the city, he booked a taxi. If he were to spend a million dollars in a day, he would start there.

Although there was silence on the way to the hotel, Charles' thoughts were anything but. His resolve was fueled by the humiliation of the past, which kept playing back in his head.

This is my moment. I'll disprove them all.

With its soaring glass exterior glittering amid the city lights, the Imperial Crown loomed ahead. The elite were the only ones who dared to enter this area, which was a sign of money and exclusivity.

Charles paused briefly, fearful that his nerves would overcome him. However, he clenched his fists when he remembered Ethan's insolent expression.

The hotel's huge entryway appeared as he got out of the taxi. Fresh flowers, polished marble, and pricey perfumes filled the air with the aroma of riches. He took a deep breath and walked forward steadily.

His confidence wavered as he observed Ethan standing near the door, conversing with a group of well-dressed businessmen. When Ethan noticed Charles, his loud and annoying laughter came to an abrupt halt.

"Well, well," Ethan murmured, a sneer curling his lips. "If it isn’t Charles Grey. Why are you here? Bringing food again?"

Charles ignored him and walked away, saying nothing.

Ethan wasn’t having it. He strode after Charles, his tone condescending. "Don't tell me you're trying to enter The Imperial Crown. This isn’t a place for folks like you. Do you know what this hotel is? Only the elite can afford to enter inside, let alone use its services.”

Charles clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain calm.

"Don't embarrass yourself, Charles," Ethan said, his tone sarcastic. “You’ve done enough of that already. Honestly, I don’t know how Sophia tolerated you for so long. You are a disgrace. But don't worry, I'll make certain she gets someone worthy of her—a genuine man of riches and rank."

The words struck deeply, but Charles refused to show Ethan how much they hurt. Instead, he locked his focus on the security guards at the door, his determination stiffening.

Ethan scoffed, stepping in front of him. "Are you going to do it, or not? Fine. Go ahead. Let's see how long it takes them to throw you out."

Charles grinned slightly. "We'll see."

The security guard scanned his membership information and, to Ethan's dismay, waved him through.

"What?" Ethan spluttered, his confidence wavering. He hurried after Charles, determined to see him fail.

"This must be a mistake. There’s no way you—”

Charles did not pay attention. He was taken aback by the grandeur when he approached the foyer. The marble floors were lit by crystal chandeliers, and the air was filled with the hushed murmuring of wealthy patrons.

Charles felt proud for the first time in years. It was only the beginning.

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