Money Was Here. Now It’s Not

At the World Bank Headquarters.

"Show me the damned code again!!" Elias Wolf barked. Wiping the cold sweat off his brow for the hundredth time in the past hour.

The intern held up the laptop with shaky hands.

"I really have to use the washroom now, Mister Wolf," He mumbled.

"No, no, no…" Elias murmured, glaring at the code. "Everything is right… then why is this not working? What the hell is going on?"

The intern whimpered.

Behind them, the large monitors were beeping red.

They blinked like silent alarms—rows upon rows of transaction anomalies, vanishing assets, and inexplicable fund diversions. All too clean. 

Too coordinated. No origin, no signature, not even a timestamp glitch.

Elias stared at the log.

"This is just like the last time…" he mumbled.

The exact data pattern had appeared a few days ago. Briefly. A flicker. 90 Billion Dollars vanished from their records. And they have not stopped their investigation even for a second.

The result?

Nothing.

There were no answers. No explanation of what was going on…

And now… the abnormality was back. Bigger. Louder; 100+ ghost transactions happened. More than five million dollars just vanished.

Not one of those transactions could be tracked.

Elias rubbed his forehead, "The Economy will collapse if this continues…"

His phone vibrated. A message: I'm here.

Elias didn't bother replying. He simply stood, straightened his navy blazer, and left the office without a word.

The intern slumped on the floor.

Outside, the city was caught in a dusk of thunderclouds. Elias entered the an old, second-hand car waiting for him at the curb. The door clicked shut.

And he finally loosened his tie.

Elias glanced at the driver's seat. His son was wearing the same cold, uncaring expression as always. Elias frowned and muttered.

"You're late. Again."

Aaron Wolf didn't look at him. His sharp jaw was locked, his focus on the road ahead. 

"You're early."

"You always did think silence made you intimidating," Elias said with a tired scoff. "Still not charming."

Aaron didn't answer.

The car slipped into traffic, its tinted windows hiding two generations of tension and one very awkward silence.

Elias sighed and pulled up the holographic display from his tablet again. "They're asking me to investigate the source. The missing funds. But there's nothing. Nothing, Aaron. It's like someone erased the breadcrumbs as they were being made."

Still no response.

Elias continued, "You ever seen this pattern before? Heard anything like this? Billions have disappeared from our records within a few days… and there has not been a single trace."

Aaron finally blinked. 

His eyes didn't move off the road. But his fingers curled ever so slightly on the steering wheel.

"When exactly did it start?" He asked in a distant voice.

Elias sighed deeply, "We saw the first Ghost Transaction on the 26th."

Aaron slowly frowned.

He said nothing, but his mind went back to that odd midnight call. The strange woman. An idiotic offer… after all, who would spend so much on a bankrupt company?

Who could have so much faith?

And that woman?

She just dropped a billion dollars and disappeared.

No further calls. No messages.

It all happened on 26th.

The car stopped at a red light. Outside, a street billboard glitched, then displayed a headline in loud neon pink:

"SECRET BILLIONAIRE BACKS ATLANTIS' MOST HATED HEIRESS?!"

Aaron's eyes flicked to the screen.

There she was—Selene Sinclair. Standing on that rooftop during her infamous stream. A golden bracelet visible for just one frame. A bracelet sold at auction for 9 billion dollars. Tied to the missing Montvale monarchy.

Aaron exhaled slowly.

'She is that woman… isn't she?'

Elias noticed. "What?"

"…Nothing," Aaron said.

But his thoughts were swirling.

What if she was connected to the other strange things happening? His mind went back to the weird Ghost Transaction. 

And then, back to Selene.

'Something about her is… off.' His gaze dimmed.

. . . . . 

Ding!

[You have 2.3 Billion Mentions Online]

[Current Public Sentiment: Mildly Obsessed (Tier: Unstable Simp Energy)]

Selene blinked. "That's… not healthy."

The rabbit on her lap sneezed in agreement and promptly fell asleep on her keyboard.

Selene gently shoved him aside, opened her system tab, and checked her Chaos Wallet. The numbers blinked aggressively—proof that someone, somewhere, was doing unhinged amounts of tweeting. And for some weird reason, the system was awarding her money for every jump on her social presence!

[Chaos Wallet: $921,700.58]

[Karma Points: 810]

[Status: Publicly Neutralized]

"I should start vlogging or something…" Selene murmured, curious, confused, and very much greedy.

Ding!

[No imminent danger detected. Medatory quest participation activated! Player refusal would result in the Penalty Zone Level II.]

[The First Scenario 'New Money Curse' is in Progress!]

[Current Quest…]

[Become the CEO!]

[Deadline: 3 Days remaining]

[Objective: It's in the title]

[Reward: 100,00,000$, [10] Skill Points!, + 1 New Skill]

[Penalty: ???]

[Optional Bonus: Dethrone one nepotism baby. Extra flair points if you do it wearing sunglasses.]

Selene leaned back on the armchair.

She had not given the quest much thought earlier. Becoming a CEO, however, reminded her of the past… when she believed her father's words wouldn't be a lie. When she believed that she would manage the Sinclair corporations.

"CEO, huh?" she muttered.

A dull thud echoed in her chest. Victor Sinclair's voice, stern but weary:

 "You'll need more than brains and money to survive the boardroom, Selene. You'll need power."

And then…

Silence.

Because he never said anything after that. Not to her. Not once.

Those were the last words he said to her before cutting off all communications entirely.

Selene opened her phone. Searched the news again. Still no formal update from the Sinclair Estate. Still no confirmation of her father's condition. No word. Not even a whisper.

Her hand hovered over her messages.

Finally, she called Blake.

"I asked you to investigate him," Selene said, checking her nails, "Has there been any new update on my father?"

Blake was silent for a moment.

He hesitated, then said, "The investigation is still not complete, Miss Sinclair… all we know for now is that the private jet that left the Sinclair Estate with Mister Victor—it, uhh, disappeared somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean."

Selene creased her brows.

"What?"

"It seems to be deliberate," Blake added. "The control room was informed by the designated pilot that they would be shutting down all further communications on orders from Mister Victor."

Selene glanced toward the window, where storm clouds were curling more thickly. Her father had never done something like that before.

He had grown more careful after her mother's death.

More… paranoid.

Victor Sinclair never went anywhere without informing all his personal staff. He never erased his flight routes. Heck, he did not even use tinted windows on his car.

All to ensure that in case something were to happen to him, there would always be a witness.

"Bianca…" Selene whispered.

Blake blinked.

A few seconds passed, and the call was disconnected.

Selene knew it was her. Bianca had wanted Victor dead. Who else but her would do something like that? And what if… Victor was already gone?

Selene quietly asked.

"System. Can you not locate my father?"

There was no immediate response.

After a long, static silence, a holographic map appeared before Selene.

She stiffened. 

But the map wasn't recognizable. It was a zoomed-in view of what seemed to be a place with very few buildings. The map glitched for a moment, then, the system spoke.

Ding!

[Current location identified for Victor Sinclair.]

Selene let out a small laugh. "Where exactly is this?"

Ding!

[Error: The Player has neglected Main Quest Progression. System Interaction Restricted!!]

Selene's lips twitched.

"You're doing this again… what if I refuse to be a player, huh?"

There was no response.

And for some odd reason, the silence surrounding her started to feel heavier.

Selene's expressions turned bitter.

Deep down… a part of her knew there was no escape. Not anymore. At least not yet…

"Whatever." She whispered under her breath.

Selene tried distracting her mind with Arcane Labs. The company she had impulsively bailed out with one billion dollars. Not because it was profitable. Not even because she liked it.

But because it stood for something different.

Innovation.

Freedom.

A future not built on legacy or bloodlines, but boldness. A brave dream too big to be accomplished with low funds.

And now? That company was hers.

Unofficially.

Selene's eyes narrowed.

"System, I want to speak with Aaron."

. . . . .

Aaron slammed the door of his bedroom shut with a resounding thud.

The small walls almost shook. Everything around him screamed cheap, broken, and colourless.

But his gaming/work setup? Three million dollars. 

It was as good as one could be. With FBI grade security measures planted by Aaron's genius father himself.

And right now…

The screen was white. Pure white. With black letters: Isn't it time we finalize paperwork?

Aaron clenched his fists tight.

His expressions were cold. Dark. NO ONE was supposed to hack into his stuff. Then what the hell was going on?

Aaron stormed upto the desk, tried to close the system, but despite his multiple angry taps at the keyboard, nothing happened!

He pulled out the wire.

Breathing sligh

tly hard. Extremely confused, and very, very annoyed.

Then—his phone buzzed.

Your account has been credited with $500,000.

Memo: For your time :)