Risaliyah

Noah, a highschooler was struggling due to his family's poverty and his father's declining health.

Despite that, he was content with his life... Until he visited his girl, trying to surprise her with a gift.

"~~~" Muffled sounds came out of her room as he stood at the door.

"She is... cheating on me?"

Just as Noah is about to confront her, a mysterious robotic voice echoes in his mind:

[Ding! Congratulations to the host binding the Ultimate Choice System!]

Option 1: Enter the room. 
[$100 Reward and a green hat]

Option 2: Leave the house and break up later.
[Rolls Royce Phantom and Basic-Driving Skill Reward]

Option 3: Marry her mother. 
[Lamborghini Aventador SVJ, Intermediate-Driving Skill  and $10,000 Reward]

"Naturally, option 3." He grinned.

________
Disclaimer: 'Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!' is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book may reference real companies and organizations, but these references are for narrative purposes only and are not intended to depict the actual conduct or involvement of these entities. The use of these names and references is not meant to harm, defame, or discredit these companies or organizations.

Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!

Noah pulled his hood lower, the fabric casting a shadow over his sharp, focused gaze. The damp streets glistened under weak, flickering streetlights, and the stale scent of old beer and piss lingered in the air. Groups of men loitered near alleyways and outside dingy shops, their voices low, their eyes sharp, following him like predators sizing up prey.

One group, huddled near a broken lamppost, stopped mid-conversation as Noah passed. Their laughter faded, replaced by a cold silence.

"Hey, you!" one of them barked, his voice cutting through the muffled hum of the street.

Noah didn't flinch, didn't even glance back. His steps were steady, his pace unbroken. The casual indifference in his stride only added fuel to the fire.

The men exchanged looks, smirking. One of them, a wiry man with an angular face and a leather jacket that had seen better days, spat onto the cracked pavement. "Yo, Sebastian! He's ignoring you, mate."

Pickpocketer(2)