Becoming Super Rich

System Alert: Host Detected. Congratulations, Host. You have received a Life Experience Gift Pack, rewarding you with a Black Card. Unlimited Value. Note 1: All transfers and purchases made with this bank card are risk-free, untraceable, and fully compliant. The final interpretation rights belong to the Starlight Financial System. Ding! The Black Card has been deposited into your digital wallet. Enjoy your experience! Liam Thorne stood on the corner of a busy street in Manhattan, listening blankly to the system notification in his head. His heart hammered in his chest—a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. He was itching to pull out his phone and check his banking app. In 2023, with the pervasive influence of online media and gaming culture, he was all too familiar with this "unlimited card" trope. Throughout his twenty-seven years of life, he’d always considered himself grounded, practical, and rational. He paid his taxes, loved his family, and abided by the law. But at this moment, with that distinct ping ringing directly in his consciousness, his solid, logical worldview began to crumble. An unlimited card? That would be absolutely insane. He was still renting a cramped, overpriced studio apartment in Queens since graduation. Just yesterday, he got a text from his property management saying the rent was going up by $500 next month, and if he couldn't afford it, he should look elsewhere. However, he couldn't check his phone right now. His Project Lead, a man named Luo, was standing right in front of him, and he was screaming. No embellishments or euphemisms were needed; "screaming" was the most accurate description. Standing with Liam, enduring the tirade, were the three other colleagues from this makeshift project team: two men and one woman. “What the hell good are any of you? You couldn't handle the simplest deliverable! Forget your quarterly bonuses. Just wait for the year-end reviews—you'll all be on the layoff list.” Luo, the Project Lead, a sweaty, balding man in his mid-thirties, furiously tugged at his expensive tie. Exhausted from his outburst, he yanked open the door of the waiting Cadillac Sedan and spat over his shoulder, "Everyone better be in the office by seven tomorrow! Get your acts together!" The sharp echo of his curses lingered in the soft New York twilight as the city lights began their nightly spectacle. It was a crisp, early October evening, and the stream of pedestrians on the sidewalk wore stylish jackets, adding to the urban scene's fashionable edge. Mark Stevens, the oldest member of the temporary project team, calmly smoothed down his suit jacket—as if to literally brush off Luo's spittle and bad karma—and said flatly, “Let’s roll.” Mark was thirty-one, a seven-year veteran at PrimeGoods Corp. A seasoned pro. Liam and the other two followed him into the Toyota RAV4 parked curbside. PrimeGoods' main office wasn't in Manhattan; it was miles away in a remote industrial park in New Jersey. They all lived near the office, so they had to drive back across the bridge before heading home. The manager drives a Cadillac; the employees ride in a sensible SUV. Perfectly reasonable. The car crawled through the evening traffic. The bustling nightlife outside the window flashed by like fleeting, indifferent shadows. Liam looked toward the brightly lit Vanguard Tower in the distance and, with a complex expression, finally took out his digital wallet on his phone. PrimeGoods Corp. was a small, regional e-commerce food distributor specializing in items like premium nuts and dried fruit mixes. A month ago, Vanguard Pharmaceuticals, located in the Vanguard Tower, publicly tendered for a major, ongoing catering and supplier contract. PrimeGoods had formed this ad-hoc team to submit a bid. They had spent weeks preparing documents and conducting facility quality checks. Today, Vanguard's purchasing deputy had met with them and presented a folder full of documents and photos alleging serious hygiene and quality control breaches at PrimeGoods' production facilities. The clear implication: they should voluntarily withdraw their bid two days before the deadline. That was why Luo had lost his mind earlier. Winning bids wasn't just about price; sometimes, it was about maneuvering and internal politics. “I want a life in full bloom, like flying in the vast sky…” The car's radio was quietly playing a classic rock track. Liam pulled himself from his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the bright red-and-black bank card that had suddenly appeared in his digital wallet, labeled Starlight Financial. His heart began to race anew. Thump, thump, thump! So, the notification wasn't just a stress-induced hallucination from Luo's tirade—it was real. A bank card with unlimited, secure funds? He could buy a lavish loft in Tribeca, drive a classic Porsche, and never worry about rent again. This is such a cliché plot. And I absolutely love it! What other clichés from those old web novels could possibly come true? Liam squinted, leaning back into the seat, feeling his brain so electrically charged with excitement that his scalp tingled. Mark, who was driving, glanced over at Liam and reminded everyone, "Guys, losing the bonus is bad, but we need to focus on this 'elimination' talk. This deal was sabotaged by a competitor. We have to work twice as hard for the rest of the quarter." As a veteran, he understood the harsh realities. The two colleagues in the back were Alex Turner, a salesperson, and Sarah Chen, a logistics specialist. Sarah, a sharp 24-year-old woman in a tailored black suit, frowned. "Mark, I did everything I could on the logistics end. The problem is clearly in quality control." As she spoke, she glanced pointedly at Liam. Within this temporary team, Liam—the Graphic Designer—was nominally responsible for overseeing the visual components of quality reports and food packaging design. Alex, the salesperson, chimed in, "Look, no offense, Liam, but quality control falls partially on you. I suggest you draft an email to Luo taking the primary responsibility. Don't drag the rest of us down." "Exactly," Sarah muttered quietly, ensuring the people in the front could still hear her. Their bonuses were essential to their monthly budget. Liam's exhilarating "good mood" crashed to an abrupt halt. He felt a sudden, profound wave of disgust. First, his official title at PrimeGoods was Graphic Designer. His role in "quality control" for this bid was a pure formality—he had zero actual authority over the company’s production hygiene standards. Second, Mark was the most senior member and was actually in charge of overseeing production workflow. He held the most power in QC. But neither Sarah nor Alex dared to challenge Mark, the seasoned veteran, so they pinned the failure on the easiest target: Liam. They weren't just venting; they were actively trying to frame him to take sole responsibility. In other words, they were volunteering him for the end-of-year layoff list. Liam turned and looked at the man and woman in the rearview mirror, saying deliberately, "The responsibility rests with the project team. If either of you wants to send an email to Luo taking full responsibility, go right ahead. Mark, pull over at the next intersection. I have something urgent to do." A few minutes later, the Toyota RAV4 pulled to the curb. Liam opened the passenger door, stepped out, closed the door decisively, and disappeared into the glow of the city lights. The three people in the car exchanged bewildered looks. They couldn't process why Liam, usually so agreeable and soft-spoken over the last month of collaboration, had suddenly developed such a spine. If Liam had been a troublemaker, would they have dared to "unanimously" pressure him? Alex, slightly embarrassed, scoffed, "He's just a guy with an Associate's degree, how dare he talk back? What has he ever contributed to this company? We'll see who Luo targets at the end of the year. Mark, Sarah, let's grab a beer. My treat." Mark offered a weak smile. "You young people go ahead." A subtle anxiety gnawed at his heart. The deal was dead, and someone had to take the fall. In corporate life, it was always better you than me. He hated the situation, but who would pay his mortgage if he lost his job? But what was with Liam? He seemed... genuinely confident. ​