Chapter 2: The Fall of a Fool (Part Two)

Pain was agony.

Elon's entire body was as if it was tearing apart, shredding at the very fabric of his existence. His veins burned, his muscles spasmed in intense contractions, and his bones hurt as if they were crushing under an invisible pressure.

He attempted to scream, mouth wide open, but there was silence.

The sky above was darkened by the eclipse, but the light that had struck him was blinding, searing into his skin like liquid fire.

It was everywhere—inside him, around him, consuming him.

His head spun, flashing between painful memories of hunger, rejection, and betrayal.

Lana's cold laughter.

The rich man's smug smile.

The manager of the orphanage casting him out like garbage.

It all poured through him at once, inundating him with feelings so pure and so strong that his brain could barely handle it.

And then—

It stopped.

The light went out.

The pain ceased.

The night grew still, as if nothing had happened.

Elon gasped for air, his body slick with sweat. His clothes clung to his trembling form, the night wind biting at his exposed flesh.

He blinked rapidly, struggling to make sense of what had just happened.

Had he been hit by lightning? Had he died? Was this a hallucination?

Then—

A mechanical, cold voice echoed in his mind.

Ding!

"Congratulations! Licking Dog System activated!"

Elon's body froze.

The voice wasn't his. It wasn't from a device or speaker.

It was inside his head.

"Analyzing host's condition. Completed."

A flickering blue screen materialized before his eyes, floating in the air like some kind of holographic projection.

Elon's breath hitched. His heart pounded against his ribs.

His name and statistics showed up on the screen.

---

Host: Elon Wayne

System Balance: 1 Trillion Dollars

Fighting Power: 10 (Weak)

Status: Poor

Personal Balance: 12 Dollars

Skill: None

---

Elon stared, his mind struggling to get around what he was seeing.

"A. a system?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He had read about such things in novels before—supernatural systems that granted power, wealth, or strength to their hosts. But they were always fiction.

This. this was real.

He hesitated, then spoke in a cautious tone.

"System. what are you?"

The mechanical voice responded immediately.

"I am the Licking Dog System, created to assist the host in spending money on women. The more you spend, the more you receive in return."

Elon's face twisted in confusion.

".What?"

"System funds can be invested in women only. The more favorable the target, the greater the returns. When favorability is 80+, there's a chance of a Critical Hit, returning up to 100 times the investment."

Elon's fists clenched.

"A system. that forces me to invest in women?"

A cold, humorless laugh tore from his throat.

"What kind of sick joke is this?"

His entire life had been wasted chasing a girl who played him. He had spent years doing everything for Lana, giving everything, and was thrown away like trash.

And now, after all of that, he was given a system that rewarded that same behavior?

"System funds are currently at 1 Trillion Dollars. This amount can only be spent on women. Personal balance is still 12 dollars."

Elon's eyes widened.

"A trillion dollars?"

His heart raced.

That was more money than he could even wrap his head around. With that kind of wealth, he could buy anything. He could stay in the most luxurious mansion, eat the best food, wear the most exquisite suits.

And yet—

"System funds cannot be used for personal expenses. They can only be used to raise favorability with women."

The excitement vanished.

A perverse sense of irony settled in the pit of his stomach.

He had slept in a hostel, hungered for days, and now he had a trillion dollars to spend—but not a cent on himself.

His hands trembled as he stared at the gleaming blue screen.

A rage he had never felt before boiled in his chest.

"So. I'm to go get some girl, spoil her rotten, and just hope she'll like me?" he snarled.

There was no response from the system.

Elon's fingernails dug into his palm.

His breath came in tatters, his mind a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.

His existence had been a jest from the beginning. Every time he had tried to escape his misery, he had been yanked back into the mire.

And now, when he had a system, it was another cruel twist of destiny.

He closed his eyes.

Then, he laughed.

A low, cold laugh that echoed under the bridge.

"Fine," he growled. "You want me to spend money on women?"

His eyes opened—dark, piercing, burning with something new.

"Then I'll go out and find the most gold-digging, materialistic woman I can. and I'll use this system to get rich."

His attitude shifted.

For years, he had been the one getting exploited.

No more.

If the world wanted him to be an idiot, then he'd be the best idiot among them all.

But this time—

He'd be laughing last.

The Hunt Begins

Morning arrived with the soft hum of traffic, the scent of fresh coffee wafting from neighborhood cafes. The city was stirring, and Elon was ready to embark on his mission.

His first step?

Finding the perfect target.

He knew exactly what kind of woman he needed—a woman who loved money above all else. Someone vain, self-centered, and eager to take whatever she could.

That way, he could maximize his expenditure, trigger Critical Hits, and level up his fortune.

A grin distorted his lips as he made his way to the biggest shopping mall in the city.

It was a gilt paradise, full of women in designer dresses, their heels clacking against polished marble floors, their perfume heavy in the air.

Elon's sharp eyes searched the room.

His gaze settled on a girl who had on a Gucci dress, her nails impeccably manicured as she scrolled through her phone.

Nearby, another girl with luxurious wavy blonde hair was batting her eyelashes at a man who was clearly paying for her shopping bags.

His smile grew stronger.

"Let's get started."

He had one trillion dollars to burn.

And soon—

The game would be real.

(End of Chapter One.)