I Kept Pressing The 100-million-year Button Novels & Stories

Time says, as he motions for me to follow him out the bedroom. “Well, I’m not doubting your abilities, although, I’m not as happy about this as you may assume,” I tell him, trying to keep up with the quickness of his step. “Hey, whereabouts in time are we going? Like, how far back?” Time doesn’t even pause. “Very far back. I mean over a million years,” he tells me.

I say, playing to see his aim. Scoffing, the man says. "Trust me, my cupcake isn't that cheap. Aim higher." "One million," I say, looking at the tank, and the water doesn't stop, and the button is still red. "Four million." "Ten million." "Fifteen million." "Twenty million." "Tsk tsk tsk....no one would think that you love your girlfriend with that amount." "She's not my girlfriend!" I yell in frustration. "I don't even fucking know her!"

Ten million dollars? The store owner wondered whether his ears were playing tricks with him. He even asked tentatively, "One thousand dollars? Okay, no problem." Dragon Claw snorted in amusement, "You have no problem with your ears, right? It’s ten million dollars. Million, not thousand. Did you hear it clearly?" The store owner was so shocked that his knees became weak. What gadget would require ten million dollars? "Y-You’re crossing the line." The store owner made a grab for Dragon Claw's collar, but this time, Dragon Claw did not give him a chance and kicked the store owner's stomach.

She clenched and fisted in silence. "You don't understand how I feel about the festival..." she muttered. She looked piercingly at him. "I want to be there to enjoy the moment!" "I know but-" "I am a human! My time is precious because it's limited. I can't live for a thousand years like the rest of you here! At least, let me go even if the world is ending tomorrow. I don't want to miss the chance!" The festival happens once in a millennium, and a human's life expectancy is less than two hundred years. If a human lives up to two centuries, that person is a legend.

After taking my debit card and my passport to check on the account, I wait for her to find it, and to my disgrace, I can spot the exact moment when she does as her eyes practically bulge out of her head. Shit! She regains her composure with a smile and proceeds to turn her display towards me. Reading the most absurd and high number I’ve ever seen, I look back at her chuckling awkwardly. “Could you run it again, that’s not possible.” As she nods at me confused and starts hitting her keyboard, I start making the math in my head and it’s not possible. If that’s true, I’ll be a millionaire by the end of next year. 20k times…

Frank's reply was simple and determined. Naturally, Sif could see that nearby. "Yes, sir!" Trevor had no reason to refuse, seeing how determined Frank was. In fact, he would bankrupt himself buying that rock just because Frank said so! Meanwhile, Jenny was smiling as she introduced, "My father's friend happened to find this milk-white stalactite while exploring a cave. It's a rare thousand-year-old stone, though we've never looked inside. The starting bid is ten million, and subsequent bids must be over a million."

A woman with a lower will might surrender after 3-5 encounters, while a strong-willed individual, such as a CEO or president, may require significantly more effort, potentially 10-15 encounters before she considers surrendering. As he read through the details, he noticed a roadmap outlining different milestones: 10, 25, 50, 100, 200, 500, and 1000. Each milestone indicated a reward for making 10 women surrender, with progressively greater rewards for each subsequent level—25, 50, 100, 200, and so on. The system seemed to promise increasing challenges and rewards as he advanced.

Like I’m some rare collector’s piece instead of a living, breathing person. “400.” Buzz. “425.” Buzz. “450.” The numbers keep climbing. My heart races even as my limbs feel like they belong to someone else. My wolf growls from deep inside, trapped. Muzzled. The announcer lifts his chin. “Do I hear half a million? 500,000?” A pause. A longer one. The red light flashes again. But this time, just one. From the far right booth. A heavier silence follows. No one else counters.

“Okay. Reverse order was a bust.” We made our way back to the buttons. “Maybe it’s based on size?” I suggested, pointing at each button. “Wolf, tree, wave, mountain, star.” “Could make sense,” Dominic said. Bastian thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Be ready to run.” We all held our breath as he pressed the buttons in the order I described. Wolf. Tick. Tree. Tick. Wave. Tick. Mountain. Tick. Star. Tick tick tick tick tick tick TICK!

I braced for the consequences and ignored the blast behind me. Who is the better kisser, me or him? I chose me. It was incorrect. What the hell? At what age did Valen begin planting bluebell flowers in his mother's garden? This was new to me. I eenie meenie miney moe and picked age seven. Erk! Wrong? Damn, the double whammy. Another white glass erupted. The space became enveloped in a roar of cheering and low chatter. Ugh! I slammed a fist on the podium. Red, green, and yellow buttons lighted up, digitally trilling and beeping. Then the screen flashed with a big, yellow, sad emoji face with the words above it ― ‘I do not compute.’