Chapter 3: The First Investment

The mall was its own world—a paradise of luxury and affluence.

Glass walls of the skyscraper enclosed the high-end boutiques, where mannequins wearing clothes worth more than Elon had ever seen in his entire life. The aroma of high-end perfume, coffee, and freshly waxed leather filled the air. Tapping stilettos echoed on the marble floor as stylishly dressed customers walked from one luxury store to another.

Elon walked through the grand entrance of the mall, his thoughts uncluttered, his purpose focused.

"Find a woman. Spend money. Trigger the system."

This was the perfect spot. The women here were not just rich—they were used to being indulged. They expected men to spend money on them.

And he?

He was their ultimate fantasy.

As he walked by blinding jewelers and designer shops, he kept his cool. He didn't want just any woman—he needed the perfect target.

Then, he saw her.

The Perfect Target

She stood before a Louis Vuitton store, gazing at a high-end purse sitting on a velvet pedestal.

The purse was elegant and streamlined—black leather with gold trim, a tiny but conspicuous price tag hanging from its handle.

$5,000.

Elon's eyes moved to the woman.

She was lovely.

Long, curly brown hair cascaded down her back, her slender body dressed in a red, off-the-shoulder, body-hugging dress. She was wearing high heels that made her legs look impossibly long, and her delicate fingers tapped against her phone as if she were checking her balance.

Her red-painted lips curled into a slight smile as she looked at the bag.

"She wants it." Elon thought, his lips twitching.

But she wasn't buying it.

Was she waiting? Longing for someone to show up and spoil her?

Elon knew her type. He had met dozens of girls like her in school—girls who loved luxury but never wanted to pay for it themselves.

This was his chance.

Taking a deep breath, he approached her.

"Thinking of buying it?" he said lightly, standing beside her.

She turned, her brown eyes running over him from head to toe.

For a moment, a flicker of boredom crossed her features—he was just some regular guy in a normal suit.

But then—

She saw his calm assurance.

She didn't depart.

She grinned instead. "It's lovely, isn't it?"

"Very much so," Elon said. "But if you like it that much, why don't you simply purchase it?"

She giggled. "Not everyone's dumb enough to shell out five grand for a purse."

Elon grinned. "Then today must be your lucky day."

Before she could speak, he walked right into the store.

She blinked, looking at him in shock.

Elon walked up to the counter where a neatly dressed saleslady welcomed him with a professional smile.

"Welcome to Louis Vuitton, sir. What can I assist you with?"

Elon gestured toward the bag. "I'll take that one."

The woman behind him let out a soft gasp.

The saleslady's eyes twinkled. "Excellent choice! That will be $5,000."

Elon reached into his pocket—hoping against hope to find his bleak 12 dollars—when instead he felt cold and smooth something.

His fingers closed around it, pulling it out.

A Swiss bank card, black, glowed in his hand.

And at this moment, the system sounded out in his mind.

Ding!

"As the host of the Licking Dog System, you have been granted an exclusive Swiss bank card. This card is linked directly to the system money and allows for unlimited women's shopping. Have fun!"

Elon smiled.

The red dress woman stood gaping in stunned silence as he carelessly handed her the card.

The cashier inserted it into the reader. No hesitation, no issue.

"Transaction approved," the saleswoman said, presenting the bag in a beautiful, gold-ribboned box.

Elon glanced at the woman.

"Here," he said, offering it to her.

She hesitated, expression unchanging.

Her fingers stroked the bag before she snatched them away.

"I don't take it," she stated, her words laced with a mix of incredulity and doubt. "It's too much."

Elon raised an eyebrow. "Too much? You had your eyes fixed on it as if you were lovesick."

She bit her lip, playing coy. "It's just. why would you buy it for me? We don't even know each other."

Elon smiled. "Let's just say I like making pretty women smile."

A little silence hung between them.

Then—

She laughed softly.

"Well, if you insist…"

she finally said, reaching out and taking the bag.

Elon could see it in her eyes.

That moment of realization.

She had found a fool.

A Golden Opportunity

She tidied up the bag on her arm, restored to her original confidence.

"That was. considerate of you," she mentioned, now threaded with weak laughter. "What's your name?"

"Elon," he answered smoothly. "And yours?"

She pushed her hair to the back of her shoulder. "You may call me Bella."

Elon assumed that quite likely was not her real name.

It was irrelevant.

"Well, Bella," he said, his tone bantering. "Since we're becoming friends, why don't we go shopping?"

She grinned.

"Oh? Are you pampering me, Elon?"

"Let's find out how much you can handle."

Her eyes twinkled.

She had him now.

Or so she thought.

The Spending Spree

They walked along the mall, popping into one upscale shop after another.

Elon bought her shoes, jewelry, perfume, and even a designer dress she pretended to protest against—but swiped anyway.

Each time he whipped out the black Swiss bank card, she watched him intently, testing his limits.

$3,000 on a diamond necklace.

$4,000 on a custom gown.

$3,000 on luxury heels.

$5,000 on accessories.

By the time they left the last store, Elon had spent $15,000 on her.

Bella held onto the bags, her lips curled into a smirk of victory.

"This guy's an idiot," she thought. "A rich idiot."

But Elon wasn't the idiot in this situation.

The system beeped in his head once more.

Ding!

"Total expenditure: $15,000."

"Target's Favorability: 5/100."

"System Reward: 10% of total amount spent."

Another blue screen before him.

---

Host: Elon Wayne

System Balance: 1 Trillion Dollars

Fighting Power: 10 (Weak)

Status: Poor

Personal Balance: $1,512

Skill: None

---

Elon's heart skipped a beat.

He had just made $1,500—spending money on a woman.

And the favorability rating was going up.

His lips curled into a smile.

"This system… may not be so bad after all."

A Taste of Wealth

When darkness fell, Elon left the mall and went back to his usual haunt.

But first—

He dined at an upscale steakhouse.

For the first time in his entire life, he had a $50 meal—a rich, well-done steak with creamy mashed potatoes and buttered asparagus on the side.

When he bit into it, he nearly groaned.

"So this is what rich folks eat."

The flavors just melted in his mouth, unlike the tasteless slop he was used to eating at the shelter.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like a king.

As he consumed the meal and headed back to the shelter, a new feeling settled in his chest.

Confidence.

Excitement.

For years, life had used him like garbage.

Now?

He was going to redefine his fate.

The Night of a New Beginning

Later, as Elon lay back on the stiff mattress, staring at the ceiling.

The black Swiss bank card rested between his fingers.

A tool of power.

His old self would have been used and discarded.

But no longer.

He smiled.

"Lana… wait."

And with that in mind, he closed his eyes.

And for the first time in years, he smiled through the night.