The Billionaire's Multiplier System Chapter 3: The First Target

Lin Feng wiped his palms on his jeans before grabbing the café door handle. The tal was cold. Or maybe that was just his nerves.

Okay. Just buy a coffee for a woman. Simple.

Then he saw her.

Bad idea.

Professor Zhao Xinya sat like a judge about to deliver a life sentence - back rigid, fingers laced together, eyes scanning docunts with terrifying focus. The empty espresso cup beside her looked like it had given up trying to impress her hours ago.

[Target Locked: Zhao Xinya]

[Status: Will destroy you intellectually]

[Current Favorability: 0% (You’re furniture)]

Lin Feng swallowed hard. "Maybe the barista would be easier..."

[Ding!]

[Wuss Mode Activated. Here’s your participation trophy: 🏆]

"Shut up," he muttered under his breath.

Lin Feng’s first three steps toward her table felt like walking through wet concrete.

Zhao’s head lifted before he was halfway there. Her eyes pinned him in place like a butterfly to a corkboard.

"Yes?" One syllable, sharp enough to draw blood.

"Thought you might... want another coffee?" Lin Feng gestured weakly at her cup.

Her fingernail tapped the saucer. Clink. Clink. Clink.

[Warning: Basic bitch move detected!]

Lin Feng’s gaze darted to her empty plate. No food. Just work and caffeine - the breakfast of champions who hated joy.

"Actually," he blurted, flagging a waiter, "get the lady the salmon croissant. And another of whatever poison she’s drinking."

Zhao’s eyebrow arched. Not quite approval, but not imdiate dismissal either.

Small victories.

[ 3% Favorability (For Not Being Completely Clueless)]

Zhao took a precise bite of croissant. "You’re a student."

It wasn’t a question.

Lin Feng opened his mouth to lie—

[She’ll know. SHE’LL KNOW.]

"—Business major," he admitted.

Her lips thinned. "And you make a habit of feeding strange won?"

"Only the ones who work through lunch."

A beat of silence. Then—was that an actual human expression?

[ 2% (Mildly Entertained By Your Existence)]

Zhao stood with terrifying efficiency, stacking her papers into a neat pile. "Thank you for the..." She glanced at the crumbs. "Caloric rescue mission."

At the door, she paused.

"Pro tip?" Her glasses caught the light. "Next ti? Lead with your brain, not your wallet."

Then she vanished into the afternoon crowd.

[Mission Complete!]

[Reward: ¥1,000 Lingering Self-Doubt]

Lin Feng slumped into a chair. His armpits were damp. His dignity was bruised.

But his bank account?

Looking healthier by the minute.