The next morning, I went to the bank to open a new account, sothing completely out of reach from my Davenport family.
I placed a one-hundred-dollar deposit as the starting balance, though my mind kept circling around one worry: if I ever received money from the system, how was I supposed to report it on my taxes?
If I didn’t report the source, I could very well end up in prison for tax evasion.
[You don’t need to worry about that, Host. Any funds you receive from the system will automatically be marked as legal inco, fully compliant with tax regulations in this country.]
I blinked, stunned. "What? You’re telling you’ve already thought about taxes?"
[Of course. Even a supernatural system knows that nothing is scarier than the IRS.]
Once I stepped out of the bank, I couldn’t help but ask again, "Then, where exactly will your funds be recorded as coming from?"
Especially if I transferred a large amount of money into my account, it would definitely raise suspicion with the tax office.
[All funds from the system will be disguised as legitimate sources, Host. They can appear as royalties, dividends, investnt returns, or even trust fund transfers. Each deposit will be matched with proper docuntation so no red flags are raised.]
I narrowed my eyes, whispering, "So you’re basically laundering money for ?"
[Not laundering, Host. Optimizing.]
Alright, so the system was "optimizing" my inco.
Honestly, it was pretty useful because I wouldn’t have to hire an accountant just to calculate my taxes anymore.
As I walked past Mr. Silo, who was waiting patiently outside the bank, I motioned to him that I’d stop by a café first.
While walking, I sent my new account number to Margareth, who turned out to be Vivienne’s assistant. It didn’t even take long for her to reply, confirming she would send the down paynt by noon.
I texted back a cheerful "Thank youuu" with a heart sticker.
The bell above the café door jingled as I stepped inside. The sll of roasted beans and freshly baked pastries wrapped around , warm and comforting.
Ah ... what a perfect day.
[Ding! Ding!]
[A Random Quest!]
[Quest: Completely ignore Madeline and her cousin until you leave the café.]
[Reward: $8,000]
[Ti Limit: 30 minutes]
[Note: Do not hold eye contact with them, do not respond to their insults, and act as pitiful as you can.]
What? WHAT?!
Why the hell did the system suddenly ntion Madeline and her cousin?!
"Fuck ...," I muttered softly as I spotted Madeline and her cousin—Isabella Whitmore, if I rembered correctly—sitting at the table near the entrance.
[Don’t look at them, Host!] the system warned .
I quickly turned my face away, trying my best to avoid them. But sohow, Madeline recognized instantly, as if her bully radar could spot her target in less than a second.
"Helcia! Is that you?!" she called out, waving her hand with a smile so sweet it dripped poison. I could practically hear her laughing at inside her head.
"Oh my ... it’s been such a long ti since I last saw you," Isabella chid in, smiling just as sweetly. But her next words were cold enough to freeze the room. "I thought you were already dead."
My jaw tightened as anger burned in my chest. Isabella—Helcia’s oh-so-beloved cousin—had been the one to invite her to that cursed birthday party.
She hadn’t killed Helcia with her own hands, but she was the one who pushed her straight toward her death.
And the worst part? That bitch didn’t even show the slightest hint of guilt. She had humiliated Helcia in front of everyone and even made her friends laugh at her misery, but still had the audacity to act innocent!
Why the hell did I have to run into this devilish duo on such a sunny day? Wasn’t I supposed to have a lucky buff right now?
[Yes, your lucky buff is still active, Host.]
Then why the hell was I dealing with this?! And why was the system telling to just stay quiet?!
I wanted to rage!
I wanted to flip the damn table at them and drag them both across the floor by their perfect, shiny hair!
I wanted vengeance!
[The system is here to guide you toward success, Host. Every quest and mission has a purpose, which ans you need to trust the system.]
[And get your $8,000!]
I bit down on my lips as the system’s last words echoed in my head. Alright ... fine. My vengeance could wait for a while.
With a calmness I didn’t actually feel, I walked past Madeline and Isabella without giving them a single glance and headed straight to the counter.
"One iced brown sugar latte and one iced Aricano, please," I said with a smile.
My silence must have stung more than any insult, because I could feel their eyes drilling into my back.
"Excuse , did you not hear , Helcia?" Madeline’s voice rose, sharp with irritation. She even stood up from her seat and walked toward . "Or are you just too embarrassed to say hello? That must be it, right? After smashing my phone, the least you could do is feel so sha."
Without even glancing at her, I could feel Madeline’s gaze sweep over from head to toe.
"Geez, are you seriously using that color in your hair again? You look as ugly as a crow."
She grabbed a strand of my hair and hissed. "Ew, it’s a ss. I bet your crippled husband covers your face with a cardboard box when he fucks you—oh wait, I forgot, his dick probably doesn’t even work."
Madeline burst out laughing, and Isabella quickly joined in, standing right beside like a shadow.
"I heard your crippled husband lives on the outskirts of the city. Do you live in so rotting shack? Ugh, poor you. If I ever found out my fiancé was a poor, crippled man, I’d just kill myself."
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood, forcing myself not to flinch. The rage in my chest roared hotter with every word, ready to explode like a volcano if I so much as opened my mouth.
How dare they insult my husband like that!
I wanted to snap their legs and make them feel what it’s like to live in a wheelchair!
[$8,000, Host.]
[Trust the system, Host, this silence will sting louder than words.]
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