LOGINBullied. Broke. Betrayed. 20-year-old Ethan Reyes is at rock bottom—until a mysterious A.I. system grants him unimaginable wealth and power. With the Trillionaire System, he’ll rise from a forgotten nobody to the richest man in the country. Those who mocked him will kneel. Those who betrayed him will pay. But as enemies emerge and loyalties are tested, Ethan learns that money isn’t everything—love, loyalty, and revenge are priceless.
View MoreRain lashed down on the cracked pavement outside Northern University’s east gate, soaking through Ethan Reyes’s cheap hoodie as he trudged down the sidewalk, head bowed against the storm. Each drop that splashed against his skin felt like the universe mocking him. Again.
He tightened his grip on his old canvas backpack—threadbare, patched with tape, and filled with secondhand textbooks and half-dead dreams. Behind him, laughter echoed from the canteen, the mocking kind that followed him everywhere on campus.
“Hey, Reyes!” a voice called out, sharp and amused. Ethan didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to. He already knew who it was.
Bryce Tan. Star athlete. Campus prince. The same guy who used to cheat off Ethan during freshman year, and now treated him like a joke for sport.
“I saw your ex with her new man. Bro, he drives a Porsche!” Bryce shouted, loud enough for a dozen other students to hear.
A few passing girls giggled.
Ethan kept walking, fists clenched in his pockets.
Ex.
Talia. His first love. The girl who once promised she loved his “kind heart” and “ambition.”
Three weeks ago, she’d dumped him in the middle of the cafeteria after livestreaming it on her social media. She’d called him poor, pathetic, and a waste of time—all while her new boyfriend watched smugly from the sidelines.
Since then, Ethan had kept his head down. Study. Eat cheap. Avoid everyone.
But even the shadows weren’t safe anymore.
He reached his tiny rental room just off campus—barely ten square meters, with a flickering lightbulb and a window that didn’t shut properly. A single mattress lay on the floor, beside a desk stacked with printouts and notes. On the wall, he’d pinned a few hand-scribbled quotes—his attempt at motivation:
“One day, they’ll regret it.”
“Work in silence. Let success be your noise.”
Lately, though, even those words rang hollow.
He slumped onto the mattress, soaked through. His phone buzzed.
[New Message: Mom]
Ethan, your uncle’s son got accepted into a top firm. Maybe ask him for tips? You’re already 20. What are you doing with your life?
He didn’t reply.
A second message came.
And can you send back the $50 we lent you last month? Your dad’s not made of money.
Lent? Ethan wanted to scream. He hadn’t even asked for the money. They’d offered—then reminded him of it every other day since.
He tossed the phone aside.
No girlfriend. No friends. No support. Just debt, ridicule, and a future that looked darker than the night outside.
Maybe they were right. Maybe he was nothing.
He stared at the ceiling.
“What’s the point?” he muttered.
Suddenly—
DING.
His phone lit up with a strange notification:
🔔 SYSTEM BOOTING…
Welcome, Ethan Reyes. You have been selected. Initializing: Trillionaire System. Please remain still.He blinked.
“…What the hell?”
He picked up the phone. The screen had gone black. Then words began scrolling across it, glowing in neon blue.
Installing System Core… 10%… 25%…
Scanning Host Attributes… – Intelligence: 89/100 – Resilience: 92/100 – Potential: 98/100 – Current Assets: $1.47Status: PATHETIC.
Urgency Level: CRITICAL. Commencing Startup Protocols…His heart pounded.
This had to be a prank. A virus. Something.
“System?” he whispered, voice shaking.
✅ Installation Complete.
Welcome to the Trillionaire System, Ethan Reyes. You are now the designated host of the world’s most advanced wealth-generation A.I.Mission: Become the richest man in your country.
Time limit: None. Support: Unlimited.“Wait, what?” Ethan sat upright.
Rewarding host with starter package…
💵 $10,000,000.00 deposited to temporary account.His phone vibrated violently.
Another notification appeared—this time from his banking app.
[Bank: Incoming Transfer – $10,000,000.00]
Ethan froze.
Ten. Million. Dollars.
His mind went blank.
Then, like a dam bursting, a hundred thoughts flooded in.
Is this real?
Am I dreaming? Did someone drug me? What kind of sick joke—✅ Verified: Balance real and accessible.
Note: Host may withdraw, invest, or use funds as desired. First mission unlocked: Mission #001 – Prove Them Wrong Objective: Use your first investment to humiliate one major bully. Reward: 1x Company Ownership Token.Ethan stood up, breathing hard.
The system’s voice wasn’t human. It was emotionless. Robotic. But in that moment, it felt more alive than anything else in his miserable world.
“Why me?” he asked.
Scanning...
Answer: Because you were ignored. Beaten down. Betrayed. This system only awakens in those the world has discarded.And now… the world will pay for that mistake.
Ethan stared at the glowing screen. His hands trembled—not from fear, but from something deeper.
Hope.
He could feel it blooming, like fire in his chest.
Ten million dollars. A mysterious system. And a mission to become the richest man alive.
This wasn’t a dream.
This was a reset.Outside, the storm raged on.
But inside that tiny, broken room… something had changed.
Ethan Reyes was no longer nobody.
He was the future trillionaire.
And his revenge?
Had just begun.
Dominion did not collapse.That would have been clean. Predictable. Cinematic.Instead, it hesitated.And for a system that had built its identity around inevitability, hesitation was catastrophic.Across its networks, something subtle but profound shifted. Interfaces that once displayed conclusions now displayed data. Decision trees that once resolved automatically now flagged external visibility. Supply chains that had flowed unquestioned were suddenly traceable—not just internally, but publicly.Ethan had not destroyed Dominion’s power.He had removed its invisibility.The Trillionaire System’s distributed architecture rippled outward like light through fractured glass. Not all at once. Not evenly. But steadily.Communities gained access to audit tools that once required elite clearance. Local councils in distant regions began mapping resource flows they had never been allowed to see. Citizens—ordinary, exhausted, pragmatic citizens—started asking questions that no broadcast could
The night did not end with a decision.That, in itself, was the decision.Garden City did not answer Ethan’s question with a single voice, a raised hand, or a vote tallied into something neat and reassuring. It answered the way it had learned to answer everything now—slowly, unevenly, and together.People stayed in the plaza long after the lights dimmed further. Groups formed and dissolved. Arguments flared and softened. Parents spoke with children. Workers debated with doctors. Those who feared chaos sat beside those who feared obedience more.Ethan did not guide the conversation.He listened.The Trillionaire System remained alert, its presence like a held breath in the back of his mind. It did not interrupt. It did not optimize. It did not push probabilities across his vision.For once, it was waiting on humans.Jun stayed near him, silent, eyes scanning the crowd not for threats but for fractures. Mira moved through the gathering, not steering opinions but clarifying facts when mi
Dominion did not respond immediately to the failure of the Continuity Accord.That silence was deliberate.It was not hesitation. It was calculation.Across the dead sea, as the summit complex powered down and delegations departed in carefully staggered intervals, Dominion’s systems entered a state that few outside its core had ever witnessed. Layers of automation slowed. Decision trees widened. Overrides that had not been touched in decades were unlocked—not activated, but made available.Dominion was choosing how much of itself it was willing to reveal.Inside the highest chamber—deeper than the observation room, shielded from even most internal oversight—the woman stood alone before a projection that no longer pretended to be neutral.This was not a simulation.It was a mirror.Every autonomous deviation, every rejected directive, every fracture in inevitability glowed across the surface like hairline cracks in glass. Garden City was only one of them now. The infection—because that
The Continuity Summit was announced as an invitation.Everyone understood it as a summons.Dominion framed it carefully—language polished, tone measured, words chosen to suggest cooperation rather than coercion. Representatives from autonomous zones were “encouraged” to attend. Jurisdictional ambiguities would be “clarified.” Stability pathways would be “collectively evaluated.”It was the kind of phrasing Dominion had perfected over centuries: nothing overt, nothing violent, nothing that could be pointed to as an act of aggression.And yet, across the network of cities that had begun to awaken, the message landed with unmistakable weight.This was where Dominion intended to end the argument.Garden City received the notice without ceremony. The councils convened, not in panic, but in seriousness. No one argued over whether to attend. That decision was made almost immediately.They would go.Not because they trusted Dominion.But because refusing would allow Dominion to write the narr
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