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 settled into the driver's seat, pulling out his sleek, custom-built phone.

The AI assistant responded instantly, its voice smooth and emotionless. "Tracking active. Displaying route now."

A digital map flickered to life on the car's central screen, a glowing red dot pulsing in real-time—his target's exact location.

Noah's eyes scanned the data. The car carrying the assassins had stopped moving.

The last recorded conversation had gone silent.

His lips pressed into a thin line. They know something's wrong.

"ETA: 1 hour, 45 minutes."

Noah's fingers tightened on the wheel. Too long.

His body was a machine, built for endurance. Fatigue didn't exist. There was no need for rest, no need to delay.

The faster he got there, the less time his targets had to scatter.

Tracker