Chapter 16: [The Next Mission]
1233 Words
Chapter 16: [The Next Mission]
Dylan looked down at the package in his hands. Then, slowly, he walked over to a nearby trash can.
And dropped it inside.
He climbed back into the Lamborghini, started the engine, and drove toward his mansion.
He was done running errands.
For anyone.
But his face was tight—disturbed.
His phone rang as he drove toward home.
He glanced at the screen and rolled his eyes. One of his old bosses.
He answered. “What?”
“Dylan!” The voice boomed through the speaker. “What the hell are you doing? Do you think you can just quit and disappear?”
Dylan said nothing. He turned onto the main road, the Lamborghini purring beneath him.
“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” the man continued, his voice sharp with irritation. “If you still value your peace—and if you want to keep making money—you’ll report to work before the end of the day. Customers have been asking for you. Everyone’s asking where you are. Your other bosses said You quit, and now I’m dealing with the fallout.”
Dylan’s jaw tightened.
“I’m warning you, Dylan. Don’t test me. Get your head straight and get back here. You’re not escaping that broke life by quitting—you’re just making it worse.” The man’s voice rose. “Be here before today ends, or I’m never taking you back. Understand?”
The call ended before Dylan could respond.
He snorted and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. Then he drove through his gates, past the manicured lawns and fountains, and into his own driveway.
He parked the Lamborghini, grabbed his backpack, and walked into the mansion.
---
After a long shower, Dylan sat on the edge of his bed, both phones in his hands. The old one—with the system. The new one—for everything else.
He opened his contacts and blocked the boss’s number. Then he stared at the screen, his thoughts drifting. He needed to change his number.
Maybe it wasn’t just the SIM card he needed to change. Maybe it was his entire identity. His neighborhood. His reputation.
The past two days had been a whirlwind. The system had given him money, yes—enough to prove himself, enough to start over. But the challenges kept coming. People who knew him still looked down on him. Some thought he’d turned to robbery. Others assumed he’d stolen the money or scammed someone.
It would keep going like this as long as he stayed in this area, in this life. He had money now, but these elites still had more power—connections, influence. They could ruin him with a single phone call if they wanted to.
He wasn’t established yet. He had wealth, but no foundation. No business. No network.
He either had to leave town, make it somewhere else, and come back—or stay here and endure every insult, every doubt, every humiliation.
No. He had to leave.
His new phone buzzed. Multiple notifications flooded the screen, one after another.
Dylan frowned and unlocked it. The school forum was exploding. Something had gone viral.
He opened the app, expecting more gossip about his car or the boutique incident. Then his eyes caught the headline—and his smile dropped.
"Dylan Chase Breaks Up with Grace Bennett in School Hallway—Accuses Her of Infidelity."
“What?” His frown deepened.
He scrolled down. Someone had recorded them. Posted it anonymously.
Dylan’s teeth clenched. He’d thought they were alone in that hallway. He’d been sure no one else was there.
He pressed play.
The video was shaky, shot from a distance, but clear enough.
"So we’re done? Is that what you’re saying? We’re done?"
Grace’s face filled the frame—confused, desperate, tears pooling in her eyes.
His voice came through, cold and sharp.
"You broke us off with what you did that day."
Then Dylan walking away, his back to the camera. Grace standing alone in the hallway, her shoulders trembling.
The video ended.
Dylan stared at the screen. His chest tightened. He’d been proud of how coldly he’d handled it, how he hadn’t let her see any weakness. But watching it now—seeing her confusion, her pain—it stirred something he didn’t want to feel.
She looked so genuine. So hurt.
He shook his head and scrolled to the comments.
**"He broke up with Grace? The money really went to his head."**
**"Dylan Chase is all over the forum now. What is this pauper up to?"**
**"Grace, I love you. Come to me. He never deserved you."**
**"I knew they were incompatible. But him leaving her after getting a little cash? Biggest plot twist ever."**
**"Didn't you hear the most important part? He accused her of cheating. CHEATING. Grace Bennett?"**
**"Whether she cheated or not, Dylan never deserved her. Grace, come here. I'll take care of you properly."**
**"Grace cheated? No way. That's a lie."**
**"He didn't say she cheated. He said she betrayed him. Stop spreading fake rumors."**
**"Dylan left Grace after everything she did for him? I never expected this from him."**
Dylan scoffed and threw the phone onto the bed.
Damn them. They knew nothing.
He knew what he saw—and he would stand by it.
He wasn’t even guilty that the video had leaked. Let it spread. Let her feel the humiliation and hurt he’d felt that night.
---
Hours passed. Dylan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind drifting between thoughts of Grace, the system, and his uncertain future.
Then, at exactly midnight, his phone alarm chimed.
Dylan jolted upright, his heart racing. He grabbed the old phone—the system phone—and held his breath.
The screen lit up.
**[Congratulations, Mr. Chase. You have successfully completed your mission.]**
Dylan smiled.
**[We hope you are ready for the next one.]**
A loading icon spun on the screen. Dylan's pulse quickened.
**[Mission Assigned]**
**[Objective 1: Help three people in need without being recognized.]**
**[Objective 2: Establish a legitimate business and become the boss.]**
**[Reward: Variable, based on performance.]**
**[Time Limit: Two months.]**
**[Note: Additional missions will be assigned every two days at midnight while this mission is ongoing.]**
Dylan's new phone buzzed. A notification flashed across the screen.
**Credit Alert: $5,000,000.00**
Dylan's breath caught. Five million dollars.
Enough to help people. Enough to start a business. Enough to build something real.
The system's message updated.
**[The mission begins now.]**
Dylan stared at the screen, his mind racing. Two months. Two objectives. Five million dollars.
He leaned back against the headboard, a slow smile spreading across his face.
This was it. This was his chance to become more than just a rich kid with a stolen fortune. This was his chance to build something that couldn't be taken away.
He picked up his new phone and opened a note app. Then he started typing.
**Mission 1: Help 3 people anonymously.**
**Mission 2: Start a business. Become the boss.**
He stared at the words for a long moment. Then he added one more line.
**Mission 3: Leave this city. Start fresh.**
Dylan set the phone down and closed his eyes.
Two months.
He could do this.
He *would* do this.
And when he came back, no one would ever look down on him again.
- Writer
