Big Spender In A Busted Game Novels & Stories

“And your data supporting this claim?” The first partner faltered, glancing at his notes. “It’s... speculative, sir, but the trend—” “Speculative?” Theodore interrupted, his tone calm yet cold. “Do I look like someone who builds empires on speculation?” The partner swallowed, nervous. “Well, no, sir. But—” “The proposal lacks depth,” Theodore said, his voice icier now. “Investing millions based on assumptions and half-baked projections is not innovation. If this is your idea, you're in the wrong room.”

“He doesn’t have what it takes to make this game even remotely interesting.” “What?” I say, not sure if I heard him right—or understood him at all. Instead of explaining, he bids again. “Five billion.” “WHAT?” That, my friends, comes from—not me, not any other sane bidder—but Damon himself. Before I know what’s happening, he comes stomping down the aisle and points a finger at Griffin. “You fucking kidding me?” he snarls. “No way in hell a measly doctor can come up with that kind of money. Who are you trying to fool?”

Instead, she sat next to Sean and watched him play. "Hide first," Sean said to his teammates. Then, he dodged the enemies' attacks and ran to the store nearby. He saw that Eli had 15300 dollars left in her account, so he bought a Thunder Spike, two bottles of health potions, and a bottle of mana points. "F*ck, that Thunder Spike costs 5000 dollars. It's not worth it at all. I only get 1000 dollars for every match I win. I really think that this is the biggest bug, isn't it?" Eli sat beside Sean and complained.

“I have to say, I’ve played a thousand games of monopoly in my day, but that was the best one.” She rolled her eyes and shoved him. “What?” he asked defensively, the cheesy smile never leaving his face. “We got lucky and won almost three hundred bucks.” ‘The free peep-show had nothing to do with it? Sure.’ She would be lying if she said Brenden shirtless didn’t make the game better for her. “’You’ won almost three hundred bucks. I never put anything in,” she reminded him. “I let you borrow the money and now you have paid me back. So half of it is yours.”

Georgie Clementine was finding this increasingly difficult to believe. What was going on? Was this god-like figure’s account hacked? Everybody knew that this god-like figure was the player who spent the most money on this game. He did not spend a lot of time online, and he bought most of his equipment and level progression with money. This god-like player had excellent skills, never joined any clans, and randomly played with other people. In the past, he would only bring his wife along with him when he played.

Six years later, “I am sorry, Miss. Roberts, but we’re going to have a pass on this one.” Mr. Hilton, one of the major investors in the gaming industry, just straight on rejected my proposal for a new game. The meeting room suddenly feels chilly and my mouth is hung open, due to the fact that I worked hard just to secure a meeting with Mr. Hilton only to be rejected on the spot. I look at Kathy, my assistant standing beside me and she has the same look of shock on her face.

“Stone Global just closed a joint deal with a telecoms company in Seoul. He’s in a suit. Smirking. Brooding. All that mysterious billionaire crap that the media eats up.” Aria rolled her eyes, clicking through the next set of edits. “I don’t care, Mia.” “I know you say that,” Mia replied, tilting her head. “But you also sent Lucy to tell him he overpaid you for dinner.” Aria looked up from her screen, finally. “Because he did. Way overpaid. I don’t want anything to do with him. That was my way of drawing the line.” Mia huffed. “If I had been there, I’d have drawn the line for him. Right down the middle of that pretentious dinner table, cutting through his designer arrogance and that ridiculo

and Sasha frustratedly flung his cards into the center of the table. Sev threw his hands to the sides, turning to his brother and asking incredulously, “You’re calling the game just like that?” “You’re either an ass at shuffling cards or a bloody fucking cheat. Why do you have so many good plays just two minutes in?” Sasha shot back. Sev glared at our little brother with thin, angry eyes, “You were looking at my cards?” Shaking my head, I ignored them, picking my phone back up. As I stared at our chat thread all I could think about was how down bad I’d been for this girl.

She rolled the dice first and made her move. The game moved quickly. Elena played slow and smart, buying up properties one by one. Me? I spent money like a Colombian billionaire laundering cartel cash in a Macau casino. I stared at the last of my fake bills, just one 50K note left. “Perfect. I’m bankrupt. Even in a fake world.” Elena gave me a soft, worried look. “Do you... want to stop?” I looked up slowly, one brow arching high. “Stop? Sweetheart. You think I’ve ever stopped in real life?”

The medical bills, all the late payments that piled up before I had to sell my mom's house, then my apartment, then my cars, then everything else. My best friend covers his face with both hands and groans as I continue explaining exactly how I got into this mess and how bad it is at this point. And how I’ll totally be broke for life if I don't get good enough to play again. Soon. "So yeah, I'm fucking broke. I'm embarrassed and I don't want to be around anything hockey related because it triggers me. And the worst part is... you always told me to be smart with my money," I murmur, swallowing a hard lump, "I mean, everyone did, of course. But you, specifically. I keep replaying every single t