Flat Broke

"Please, just listen to me for one second!"

Nathan Cole stood there in the big shiny lobby of Zentara Capital, looking sweaty and tired. His shirt was sticking to his back, creased like he slept in it, which he kind of did. He looked at the man in front of him—Aaron Voss.

Once, Aaron was his best friend. Now he was a billionaire with his own company, his own skyscraper, and probably his own brand of water too.

Aaron looked at him like someone who just stepped in dogshit. "You think this place runs on pity?"

Nathan swallowed, hard. "We built this dream together, Aaron. I gave you your first investor. I got you into real estate. You crashed on my couch when your mom threw you out, remember?"

Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. And then I moved on. Maybe you should've too."

Nathan stepped closer. People around started glancing. Suits. Secretaries. Everyone probably wondering why a guy like him was even allowed inside.

"I just need a chance. A quarter million. That's nothing for you. I can flip it, I swear. I just need a bit of breathing room."

Aaron chuckled, but it wasn't the friendly kind. "You? A bankrupt dumbass who tanked a logistics company, scared off every investor in the room, and got dumped by email? You want me to give you money?"

Nathan's fists clenched at his sides.

"I'm not asking for pity," he said softly. "I'm just asking for a shot."

Aaron sipped his fancy coffee like he was already bored. "And I'm saying no."

Silence. Just... heavy silence.

"You're not a businessman anymore," Aaron added. "You're a walking trainwreck."

He waved a hand without even looking. "Security."

Two guards appeared like they'd been waiting for this moment. Tall. Serious. The kind that probably used to play football.

Nathan didn't fight. He just kept talking.

"Aaron, don't do this. Please, just—"

He didn't finish.

The guards grabbed him and dragged him across the floor like he was trash. His shoes slipped off. His back hurt. His pride shattered.

Some people stared. One guy laughed. Some girl pulled out her phone and started filming.

And then the doors slammed behind him.

Right then, it started raining.

Of course.

—

That night, Nathan walked. Just... walked. No destination, no place to go.

He passed buildings where he used to work. Stores where the clerks once called him "sir" and smiled. Hotels where he used to celebrate business wins.

Now he had $86, his phone at 9%, and a headache that wouldn't quit.

Eventually, he saw a bar. "Coyote Red's."

The sign flickered like it wanted to die.

Perfect.

He went inside, sat at the counter. The place stunk of beer and bad music.

"Whiskey. Make it strong."

The bartender looked him over and shrugged. "Everything's strong when you're at rock bottom."

Nathan let out a broken laugh. "Then pour me a double."

He drank.

And drank more.

Every glass brought back memories he didn't want.

The empty office.

The engagement ring thrown into a gutter.

His employees crying as he told them the company was shutting down.

That article that called him "A tech bro with dreams bigger than his IQ."

By the sixth shot, he couldn't talk straight.

By the eighth, he tried to sing with the jukebox.

At ten, he peed in a plant near the bathroom.

"Okay, you're done." The bartender motioned to the bouncers.

"Wait, what—no, I'm fine—hic—I'm a CEO, dammit!"

"Yeah, of losing."

Two guys grabbed him and tossed him out like a garbage bag.

The street was cold. Wet. Empty.

He laid there for a while, not moving.

He could barely breathe. His clothes were soaked. His fingers hurt. His thoughts were fuzzy.

"Damn it…" he whispered. "Screw you, Aaron… screw this damn city…"

He looked up at the sky. Rain blurred everything. Even the stars.

"If there's any kind of god out there… do something already…"

Nothing happened.

Figures.

He closed his eyes. Maybe he'd just pass out here. Who cared?

Then—

A sound.

Ding.

Not from his phone. Not from around him.

From... inside.

Everything paused. The rain slowed like someone hit pause on the world. Street noise stopped too.

Then a glowing screen appeared in the air. Not on his phone. Just floating. Right above him.

He blinked. "Am I dying…?"

[SYSTEM INITIALIZING…]

[Welcome, Nathan Cole.]

[Profile matched: Emotionally unstable, financially broken, sexually frustrated. Ideal candidate.]

Nathan blinked again.

"What the… what is this?"

[You have been selected by the Harem Tycoon System™]

[Mission: Rebuild your empire by conquering women of power, gaining influence, and ruling the business world.]

[Begin first conquest? Y/N]

Rain started falling again.

But he didn't feel cold anymore.

Some weird heat burned in his chest. Not from whiskey. From something else. Something sharper.

Hope?

No.

Hunger.

The kind he hadn't felt in a long time.

His hand twitched.

"...Yeah," he mumbled, staring at the screen no one else could see.

"Let's begin."