2025-02-01 08:57:58"Help!" Jack screamed with all his might.
However, the streets were completely deserted due to the torrential rain that was falling at that moment.
Jack was landing and feared he would be disabled for the rest of his life.
He began to drag himself as best as he could until he reached the bottom of a bridge, hoping to shelter from the rain.
"This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening," he kept repeating over and over while trembling from the cold.
It was then that he decided to regain his composure and think calmly to find a solution to his problem.
"Alright..." he took a deep breath and tried to remember what the screen had said when he was penalized.
He recalled that the penalty was only for an hour.
"An hour... Alright. I just have to wait one damn hour," he said, terrified at the thought of never walking again.
He pulled out his phone and started a timer with one hour as the time limit.
"Come on... Come on..." Jack leaned back against the column of the massive bridge, and there he waited.
The timer on his phone hadn’t finished yet when the screen reappeared in front of his eyes.
[THE PENALTY TIME HAS ENDED.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO RESTORE LEG MOBILITY?
ACCEPT REJECT]
"Accept! Accept!" he shouted desperately.
[RESTORED.... 38%]
And so he continued until it reached 100%, and his legs moved again like before. It was a true miracle.
At that moment, Jack had two things very clear in his mind:
Number one: his parents weren’t playing.
And number two: he would never, ever reject an offer from the system again.
Jack lay flat on the floor, sighing in relief. He had just gotten the scare of his life.
His phone suddenly rang. It even startled him a little because he was still so nervous.
"Who’s calling?" Jack asked once he answered the call.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Jack," a woman's voice was heard from the other side of the line. "I’m calling from the national bank to inform you that you need to attend a meeting with our manager today due to your delay in paying your debt," she informed him.
"Do I need to go to the bank?"
"Exactly. Today at 2 p.m.," the woman said on the call.
"Perfect. I’ll be there."
For the first time, Jack felt that he could make use of this system. Since he was condemned to play this sick game of unknown people for the rest of his days, at least he could use it to solve his problems.
Jack quickly headed to the nearest ATM and was ready to withdraw all the money he owed to the bank.
It was a small ATM located at the entrance of a shopping mall.
"I guess I’ll need to buy a briefcase to carry all this cash," Jack said to himself.
After buying the briefcase, he noticed he had to stand in line to reach the ATM. There was also a security guard monitoring the line.
"Can I help you with something?" the guard asked Jack when he saw him enter the line.
"I need to withdraw some cash," Jack replied.
The guard looked him up and down and noticed Jack's appearance. He probably was just some poor guy who would waste everyone’s time.
"There are a lot of people here who want to withdraw large sums of money. It’s not fair that they have to waste their time while you withdraw just pennies," the security guard said.
"I demand my right to use the ATM, just like everyone else here!" shouted Jack, feeling deeply offended.
"Alright... Alright... Have it your way!" said the guard, raising his hands in surrender.
However, the guard wouldn’t take his eyes off him. He would carefully watch every move Jack made until he finally left.
The security guard observed as the people ahead of Jack withdrew thousands of dollars in cash. Surely Jack was standing in that long line just to withdraw a couple of dollars. It was a complete waste of time.
Finally, it was Jack’s turn to step up to the ATM. He quickly noticed that the maximum amount allowed per transaction was $30,000.
"Great..." Jack exclaimed.
"Is there a problem?" the guard asked, approaching discreetly. "You probably don’t even have a single dollar in your account," he added with a laugh.
"You're wrong... I’m afraid I’ll have to make two transactions," Jack grumbled. "I just hope the ATM has enough funds."
The guard looked at Jack with disbelief. He was surely lying.
Jack started withdrawing the money, and the guard watched in astonishment as the machine began spitting out a flood of bills.
He had never seen so much cash in his life. It was so much that Jack couldn’t stop some of the bills from falling to the ground.
"Damn it," muttered Jack as he crouched down to pick up the bills and put them into the briefcase.
The security guard stood there, dumbfounded, his mouth wide open in amazement.
Before leaving, Jack walked up to the guard and decided to leave him a tip. He pulled out a $100 bill and slipped it into the guard’s shirt pocket, smiling as he did so.
"Get yourself a coffee, good man," he said, patting the guard’s shirt pocket gently.
Jack realized he loved being underestimated. It was incredibly satisfying to leave people speechless after they had looked down on him.
He checked the time on his phone and noticed he was just on time for the meeting with the bank manager.
"Good afternoon, miss," he said.
"Good... afternoon..." The secretary looked at Jack, who was completely soaked and covered in mud. His shoes were a mess, and his overall appearance left much to be desired.
"I’m here for a meeting with the bank manager," Jack informed her.
"Y-yes... of course... One moment!" the secretary said, forcing a smile.
"Of course," Jack replied politely as he waited.
The young secretary quickly ran off to call security, leaving them to handle getting Jack out of the building.
"We need you to leave the bank immediately, please," demanded one of the security guards.
"Is there a problem? I have an appointment with the manager," Jack said honestly.
"Sure, of course... And I’m Alice in Wonderland," joked the other security guard as both of them laughed.
The two guards grabbed Jack by the arms and prepared to forcefully escort him out.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 167
The Citadel flickered with the reflection of millions of screens, each one displaying the notification from the Euphoria App. Carl Stanton, now fully returned from his twisted retrospection, watched as his empire of chaos continued to spin, relentless. Fred’s massacre, Jack’s defiance—it was all part of his design. And now, the stage was set for a new battle.A now-familiar hum, the sound of broadcasting drones, intensified over the city. The transmission lit up on every device, on every screen. The insatiable public prepared to enjoy another show about to begin.At the center of the projections, two faces. Two names that fate had chosen to pit against each other in the second round. The first, a middle-aged man in a flawless tailored suit, despite the dust and ruin surrounding him. His gaze was cold, calculating, a sharp intelligence gleaming in his eyes. Perhaps the most well-known contestant of all: THEO WALTON.His description read:[ ELITE MILLIONAIRE...STATS: HIGH.PREVIOUS VIC
Chapter 166
Carl Stanton’s rage still simmered beneath the surface of his skin—a dormant volcano visible through his eyes.Jack’s insolence, his son’s utter disregard for his rules, was a deeply personal offense, one that gnawed at him.The image of Jack pointing directly at the drone, that defiant stare, repeated in Carl’s mind over and over, endlessly. It was a warning, yes—but also a confirmation: Jack was coming for him, driven by a thirst for vengeance Carl knew all too well. Too well. Because that same thirst, that same ruthless ambition, had once fueled Carl’s own rise to power.His anger began to mingle with a strange melancholy, a distant echo of the past. The throne of skulls, once a symbol of his triumph, now served momentarily as a reminder of the horrors and sacrifices that had forged him.Carl closed his eyes, his head heavy in his hand, and the Citadel faded away, replaced by the raw images of his exile—the path that led him to become the Absolute Millionaire. That’s when he began
Chapter 165
The air in the Citadel was thick, saturated with the suffering brought on by the deaths of all those wandering millionaires who had tried to gain entry—and with the expensive perfume of those who had succeeded. It was a life of madness that many were beginning to get used to.Carl Stanton, Absolute Millionaire Number Zero, sat upon his throne of skulls, a macabre monument to his unstoppable ascent. The polished bones creaked softly beneath his weight, and that sound was music to his ears. Only someone like him could find amusement in such a way with the corpses of his enemies.In front of him, the vibrant hologram of the Euphoria App’s broadcast projected the brutal reality of the human world. Drones—his omnipresent eyes and ears—transmitted the signal directly to the spiritual world, and simultaneously, to the screens of other users watching his game.His gaze was fixed on the image: Jack shooting Fred, the “Bone Eater,” squarely in the forehead. A clean shot, dead center between the
Chapter 164
The bodies were piling up in the improvised morgue. The public library had become a grotesque pyramid of flesh and bone. These were the remains of Carl Stanton's "armies"—the teenagers and young adults who had fallen in the senseless war against the police. Their faces, frozen in expressions of terror and regret, stood as silent testimony to the manipulation that had led them to their deaths. The forensic workers, exhausted and glassy-eyed, could barely keep up. The city had become a massive graveyard, where death visited daily.As death filled every corner, a light flickered on millions of screens. The vibrant glow of the Absolute Millionaire System. The users—those who had survived the street war with the police or simply watched it from the safety of their shelters—saw the logo of the Euphoria App come back to life. A pair of snakes staring menacingly at the viewer. Carl Stanton gave the contestants no rest.A sharp, piercing beep rang in everyone’s ears, a vibration announcing the
Chapter 163
The Citadel stood, imposing and opulent, a testament to Carl Stanton's absolute power. It was his pedestal, beyond the sight of the wretched streets of the spirit world, where Absolute Millionaire Number Zero reveled in his latest creation. The throne room, a sanctuary of polished marble and gleaming steel, was bathed in a cold light that highlighted the centerpiece of his macabre work: his new throne.It was no ordinary throne. This architectural abomination had been meticulously assembled from the skulls of all the traitors who dared to conceive a coup against him. Each empty socket, each fractured jaw, narrated a story of failed attack and brutal punishment.But they weren't the only ones on the throne. Among the bony remains mingled the skulls of wandering millionaires who, panicked and desperate, had died by the dozens trying to force their way into the impenetrable Citadel, seeking refuge from the horrors lurking in the slums and the dark forest. These were the remains of those
Chapter 162
Another morning had dawned upon the city. Those who still breathed thanked their god for the miracle of being alive. All was tranquil until the world froze with the artificial glow of millions of technological screens that lit up simultaneously.The anticipation was a palpable electric current, a contained roar that vibrated in the depths of every user, who couldn't wait to know the names of the next contenders.Carl Stanton had created something far more addictive than any drug. He had created the addiction of chaos, and its results had not disappointed. After the brutal previous battle, which ended with the massacre of Fronteit, the public yearned for more.A familiar hum, already known to everyone, was the prelude to a blood spectacle. That sound vibrated in the air, followed by a sharp beep that pierced the eardrums of every user of the Euphoria App. The logo pulsed with a reddish light, like a heart beating in a predator's chest, and then projected onto the screens, like some der
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