The Golden Plate was the kind of restaurant where the appetizers cost more than Ethan Clarke's monthly rent.
Ethan sat at a corner table, his fingers nervously twitching against a small, velvet box in his pocket. He had worked three part-time jobs for six months to save up for this night. He had skipped meals, walked miles to save on bus fare, and wore the same frayed suit he'd used for his high school graduation.
Today was his three-year anniversary with Sarah Miller. He was going to propose.
"Ethan, we need to talk."
Sarah arrived, but she wasn't alone. She was draped in a cream-colored Gucci coat, her hand tucked firmly into the arm of a man wearing a tailored Italian suit and a shimmering Rolex Submariner.
Ethan recognized him instantly. Bryan Crawford. The heir to Crawford Real Estate and a notorious playboy.
"Sarah? Who is this?" Ethan asked, his voice trembling as he stood up.
Sarah didn't even look at the chair Ethan had pulled out for her. Her eyes were full of a cold, sharp disdain that Ethan had never seen before.
"This is Bryan, my boyfriend," Sarah said flatly. "And Ethan? We're done. Don't make this difficult."
Ethan felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Boyfriend? Sarah, it's our anniversary. I have a ring. I have a plan for our future—"
"A plan?" Bryan let out a sharp, mocking laugh. He pulled out a chair for Sarah, gesturing for her to sit before looking Ethan up and down. "What plan? A plan to live in a basement apartment and eat instant noodles for the next forty years? Look at yourself, kid. That suit is polyester. It's literally melting under the heat of these luxury lamps."
The nearby diners began to whisper and snicker. In a place like The Golden Plate, Ethan stuck out like a fly in a bowl of premium cream.
"Sarah, please," Ethan ignored Bryan, looking at the girl he had loved since freshman year. "I'm going to get a promotion soon. I can provide for you."
"Provide what?" Sarah snapped, finally looking him in the eye. "A life of coupons and public transport? Bryan bought me this coat yesterday. It cost twelve thousand dollars. That's more than you make in a year, Ethan. You're a nice guy, but 'nice' doesn't buy a penthouse in the city. 'Nice' doesn't get me into the VIP clubs."
She sighed, her expression turning into one of pity. "We live in different worlds now. I'm moving up. You're staying at the bottom. Please, just leave quietly so we can enjoy our dinner."
Bryan reached into his leather wallet, pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and flicked it onto the table. It fluttered down like a falling leaf, landing right in front of Ethan.
"Here," Bryan smirked. "Consider this a tip for the entertainment. Use it to buy a bus ticket home. Or maybe buy yourself a meal that doesn't come out of a microwave. Now, get lost before I have the manager drag you out."
Ethan's face burned with a white-hot shame. He looked at the hundred-dollar bill, then at the ring box in his pocket. Every sacrifice he'd made, every hour of sleep he'd lost—it was all a joke to them.
"Is this what you want, Sarah?" Ethan asked, his voice hoarse.
"Yes," she said, looking away. "Go away, Ethan. You're embarrassing me."
Ethan turned and walked out of the restaurant. He didn't look back. He didn't hear the laughter of the other patrons. He walked into the pouring rain, his cheap suit soaking through in seconds. He felt hollow, discarded, and utterly worthless.
He reached the park bench near the bus stop and collapsed onto it.
Money. It always comes down to money, he thought bitterly. If I had billions, would she still have walked away? If I were the one in the Italian suit, would Bryan still be laughing?
Suddenly, a sharp, mechanical sound rang out inside his skull.
[Ding!]
[Host Emotional Threshold Reached: Deep Resentment Detected.]
[Matching System Requirements...]
[Binding the God-Level Prodigal System...]
[1%... 50%... 100%!]
[Binding Complete.]
Ethan jumped, looking around frantically. "Who's there?"
The park was empty. Only the sound of the rain hitting the pavement answered him. Then, a translucent blue screen floated into his vision, hovering in the air like a high-tech holographic display.
[Welcome, Host Ethan Clarke.]
[This System has one goal: To turn the Host into the greatest spender in human history. To the God-Level Prodigal, money is nothing but a number.]
[Warning: Being a Prodigal is a full-time job. You must spend the daily budget provided by the System. Failure to spend the entire amount within the time limit will result in immediate heart failure.]
Ethan stared at the screen, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Is this... a prank? Am I losing my mind?"
[Initial Task Loading...]
[Daily Budget: $100,000,000.00 (One Hundred Million Dollars)]
[Time Remaining: 23 Hours, 59 Minutes.]
[Task Objective: Spend the entire amount. You cannot buy stocks, you cannot gamble, and you cannot give it away to charity. Every cent must be spent on personal consumption, assets, or 'face-slapping' activities.]
[Reward for Completion: 10 Attribute Points and S-Rank 'God of Combat' Skill.]
[Failure: Death.]
Buzz.
Ethan's phone vibrated in his wet pocket. He pulled it out with trembling hands. It was a text notification from his bank.
[Bank of America: Your account ending in -4402 has received a wire transfer of $100,000,000.00. Your current balance is $100,000,014.52.]
Ethan stared at the zeros. There were so many of them. His breath hitched. The fourteen dollars and fifty-two cents that had been his life savings looked pathetic next to the mountain of wealth that had just appeared.
One hundred million dollars.
And he had to spend it all by tomorrow night, or he would die.
The hollow feeling in his chest was suddenly replaced by a surge of adrenaline. The sadness was gone. The heartbreak was buried under a mountain of gold.
"One hundred million..." Ethan whispered. A cold, sharp smile began to form on his face.
He looked back toward the direction of The Golden Plate. He could still see the warm glow of the expensive restaurant through the rain. Sarah and Bryan were probably still there, laughing over their expensive wine, mocking the "trash" they had just discarded.
"You want a different world, Sarah?" Ethan muttered, his eyes glowing with a dangerous intensity. "I'll give you a different world. I'll buy the world you're trying so hard to climb into."
He stood up, ignoring the rain. He didn't look like a delivery boy anymore. He looked like a man who had just found the keys to the kingdom.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small ring box. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the gutter. He didn't need a ring for a gold-digger. He needed a way to spend a hundred million dollars.
Ethan pulled out his phone and opened a ride-sharing app. He didn't call for a budget car. He tapped the "Luxury Black" option.
Within three minutes, a sleek, black Mercedes-Benz S-Class pulled up to the curb. The driver looked at Ethan's soaking wet, cheap suit and frowned.
"Hey, kid, you sure you can afford this ride? It's a fifty-dollar base fare just to open the door."
Ethan didn't say a word. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the hundred-dollar bill Bryan had thrown at him, and tossed it through the driver's window.
"Keep the change," Ethan said, his voice cold and commanding. "Take me to the Royal Mall. The luxury wing. And drive fast. I have a lot of shopping to do."
The driver's eyes widened as he looked at the bill. His attitude shifted instantly. He hopped out of the car, opened the back door, and bowed deeply.
"Right away, sir! Please, watch your head!"
As the Mercedes sped through the city streets, Ethan watched the blue system screen ticking down.
[Time Remaining: 23:51:12]
[Current Balance: $99,999,900.00]
He had 100 million dollars to burn, and the entire city was about to feel the heat.
His first stop was the Royal Mall, home to the most expensive boutiques in the country. But he wasn't going there just to buy a new suit.
Bryan Crawford's family owned several of the shops in that mall. In fact, Bryan had bragged that his father was the mall's second-largest shareholder.
Ethan leaned back against the leather seat, a ruthless light in his eyes.
"Let's see how much it costs to buy your pride, Bryan."
The Mercedes pulled up to the grand entrance of the Royal Mall. Two security guards in white gloves stood at the door. They saw the Mercedes and prepared to bow, but when Ethan stepped out in his soaked, polyester suit, their expressions immediately turned to disgust.
"Stop right there," one guard said, stepping forward to block the entrance. "The luxury wing is for VIP members and invited guests only. You look like you're looking for the flea market down the street."
Ethan didn't even blink. He looked at the guard's name tag. V. Richards.
"How much do you make a year, Richards?" Ethan asked calmly.
The guard scoffed. "More than you, beggar. Move along before I use my baton."
Ethan pulled out his phone. He didn't look for a VIP card. He looked for the mall's management office number on Google.
[Ding! Task Triggered: The security guard is looking down on the Host. Spend $1 million to 're-educate' him. Reward: 10% Cashback on the spend.]
Ethan smirked. Spend money to get rewarded for spending money? This system was truly a gift from the heavens.
He dialed the number.
"Hello? Is this the Royal Mall Management? I'm standing at the North Entrance. I want to buy the entire building. Who do I talk to to make that happen?"
The guard laughed loudly. "Buy the building? You've lost your mind! Hey, Steve, get the handcuffs. We've got a mental case here!"
But Ethan wasn't looking at the guard. He was looking at his phone, waiting for the person on the other end to stop laughing and start listening. Because in five minutes, this mall was going to have a new owner.
And the first thing he was going to do was fire every single person who had ever looked down on him.