Chapter 5: The First Purchase
1036 Words
Barry spent the night in a cheap hotel near the city center. It cost him forty dollars—money he paid from his old work savings, because he still couldn't quite believe his bank account was real.
The hotel room was small and dirty. The walls had stains. The bed smelled like chemicals. But Barry didn't care. He was too busy staring at his phone.
Seven hundred and thirty trillion dollars.
Eight hundred and ten trillion dollars.
The number kept climbing. Every few seconds, another few hundred billion dollars appeared in his account.
The money was real. It had to be.
Barry needed to test it.
Early in the morning, he went to the nearest bank. It was a small branch of a major bank, and it didn't look too fancy. He walked up to the front desk where a young banker was sitting, looking bored.
"I need to make a withdrawal," Barry said.
The banker looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Barry was wearing wrinkled clothes and looked like he hadn't slept. But he took out his phone and opened his banking app.
"How much would you like to withdraw?" the banker asked.
"One million dollars," Barry said.
The banker's eyes widened. "Do you have a savings account with us?"
"No," Barry said. "I have the account set up with an online trading platform. But I want to transfer the money to a regular bank account."
The banker typed on his computer. He stared at the screen for a long time. Then he looked up at Barry with a confused expression.
"Sir, I'm going to need to get my manager," he said.
Five minutes later, the bank manager came out. She was a serious-looking woman in her fifties, wearing a sharp suit.
"Mr. Barry," she said. "I understand you want to access your account?"
"Yes," Barry said. "I want to withdraw one million dollars and open a savings account here."
The manager typed on her computer. Her eyes went very wide.
"Sir," she said slowly, "your account balance is eight hundred and forty-three trillion dollars."
There it was. The confirmation. It was real.
Barry felt like he was going to faint.
"I... yes," he managed to say. "Is that a problem?"
"No, sir," the manager said, her voice shaky. "But this is... this is unusual. May I ask where this money came from?"
"Trading," Barry said. "Cryptocurrency and digital assets. It's a long story."
The manager looked at him for a long moment. Then she made a decision.
"Mr. Barry, I'm going to transfer you to our private wealth management division. They handle accounts of this size. We need to make sure everything is legitimate and that you're paying the proper taxes on your income."
"Of course," Barry said.
Over the next two hours, Barry met with several people. Lawyers. Accountants. Wealth managers. They all looked shocked when they saw his account balance.
They asked him questions about where the money came from, and Barry told them the truth—that he had invested in a trading platform and the system had made these trades automatically. He showed them his phone and the trading app.
Everyone agreed that it was extremely unusual, but there was no law against making money this way. The money was there. It was real. It had come from legitimate trades, even if nobody could quite explain how or why.
By noon, Barry had:
One: Transferred one million dollars to a new checking account at the bank.
Two: Opened a savings account for his remaining balance.
Three: Hired a personal accountant and a lawyer.
Four: Been assigned a personal wealth manager named David.
David was a sharp man in his forties who had handled very rich clients before.
"Mr. Barry," David said, "with an account this large, you have options that most people never dream about. You can invest in anything you want. Real estate, businesses, stocks, artwork, anything."
"I need to think about what I want to do," Barry said.
"Of course," David said. "But I would recommend we start with real estate. A man with your level of wealth should have proper housing."
Barry nodded. "Yes. I want a house. A big one. Near Laura Raven's neighborhood."
David looked surprised. "The North Hills area? That's where the wealthiest families in the city live. A mansion there costs fifteen to fifty million dollars."
"That's fine," Barry said. "I want something bigger than anything in that neighborhood. I want people to notice it."
David smiled. "I think I can help with that."
Within three days, Barry had:
Purchased a fifty-acre property in North Hills for eight hundred million dollars.
Hired a world-famous architect to design a mansion.
Set up construction to begin immediately.
Bought ten expensive cars for his new garage.
Opened a business account in his name.
Most importantly, he had done it all without letting anyone know who he was.
On the fourth day, he went to see the construction site.
The property was perfect. It was on top of a hill overlooking the entire North Hills neighborhood. From the Raven mansion, you would be able to see his new house clearly.
Barry stood on the empty land and looked down at the neighborhood below.
He could see the Raven house in the distance.
He smiled.
They had rejected him. They had humiliated him. They had treated him like garbage.
Now he was going to build something so grand, so impressive, that they would have no choice but to notice him.
And when they found out who he was, when they realized that the worthless servant they had kicked out now owned more wealth than they could imagine, their regret would be beautiful to see.
His phone buzzed.
His account balance had reached nine hundred and ninety-nine trillion dollars.
Almost one quadrillion dollars.
That night, news broke across the financial world.
A mysterious account had appeared out of nowhere, making unprecedented trades and accumulating massive wealth. Financial experts were baffled. The central banks were confused. Nobody could explain it.
Newspapers called it "The Ghost Trade." "The Digital Phantom." "The Impossible Billionaire."
Nobody knew it was Barry.
And he intended to keep it that way until the perfect moment.
- Writer
