The Wealth Ascension System

The sounds hit Nate Worte before he saw anything. Rhythmic creaking, a woman's breathless moans, and a man's low grunts of satisfaction. Nate stopped dead in the hallway of the sprawling Garrison Estate, his arms full of shopping bags. He'd spent the entire day running errands across Sterling Heights for Dylan Garrison—the spoiled heir to the Garrison family fortune. He should have walked past the half-open door. He should have minded his business like every other servant in this mansion but something made him pause. Something about that voice. "Yes... right there... don't stop..." Nate knew that voice. He had heard it say "I love you" a hundred times. The shopping bags hit the marble floor. Nate's hand pushed the door open wider, and the scene before him shattered what was left of his world. Valerie Duncan—his girlfriend of two years was on top of Dylan Garrison, her blonde hair cascading down her bare back as she moved with ease. Dylan's hands gripped her hips, his face twisted in pleasure. "Valerie!" The name tore from Nate's throat. Valerie's head whipped around, her green eyes wide with shock. "Nate! I—" She started to climb off Dylan, reaching for a sheet, but Dylan pulled her back down with a cruel laugh. "Why stop now?" Dylan's voice dripped with amusement. "Let the helper watch. Maybe he'll learn something about pleasing a woman." "Dylan, please..." Valerie's voice wavered, but she didn't fight him. Nate watched, frozen in disbelief, as Dylan positioned Valerie on her hands and knees, never breaking eye contact with Nate. The message was clear: “She's mine now.” "You bastard!" Nate lunged forward. His fist connected with Dylan's jaw before anyone could react. The sound echoed through the room. Dylan stumbled backwards, crashing into the nightstand. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "Nate, stop!" Valerie scrambled for the sheet, clutching it to her chest. But Nate couldn't stop. Three years of humiliation, of being treated like dirt, of watching Dylan waste more money in a day than Nate would see in a lifetime—it all came pouring out. He grabbed Dylan by the collar and hit him again. "Guards!" Dylan's shout was muffled by his bleeding lip. Heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway. Nate knew what was coming, but he didn't care anymore. Four security guards burst into the room, pulling Nate off Dylan with brutal efficiency. "Get this piece of trash out of my sight," Dylan spat Blood onto the white carpet. "Teach him what happens when servants forget their place." "Nate..." Valerie's voice was small now, almost apologetic. Nate looked at her, really looked at her. The woman he'd worked himself to exhaustion for. The woman he'd given every spare dollar to when her mother got sick. The woman who'd cried in his arms and promised they'd build a life together, no matter how hard things got. "Why?" The word came out broken. Valerie pulled the sheet tighter around herself, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, Nate. I really am. But I can't keep living like this. Dylan can give me things. Security. A future. You're a good person, but—" "But what?" Nate's voice was hollow. "But good doesn't pay the bills," Dylan finished for her, wiping blood from his chin. "Face it, Worte. Men like you don't get girls like her. You're a servant. You'll always be a servant." The guards dragged Nate out of the room, down the grand staircase, through the kitchen where other servants looked away in shame, and out the back door into the service alley. "Mr Garrison wants you handled," one guard said, cracking his knuckles. Nate raised his fists, but what chance did he have against four trained security professionals? The first punch caught him in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs. The second smashed into his ribs. He fell to his knees on the dirty concrete. They didn't stop. A kick to his side. A fist to his face. The taste of his own blood flooded his mouth. Nate curled into a ball, trying to protect his vital organs as boots and fists rained down on him from every angle. "That's for touching Mr Garrison," one guard growled, stomping on Nate's hand. Something crunched. "And that's for thinking you could have a woman like that." The beating continued until Nate could barely see through his swollen eyes. Blood pooled beneath him, mixing with motor oil and garbage water. "He's done," one of them finally said. "Let's go." Their footsteps faded, leaving Nate alone in the alley, broken and bleeding. Pain radiated through every inch of his body. He was pretty sure at least three ribs were cracked. His left eye had swollen shut. His hand—the one they'd stomped on throbbed with agony. This is how it ends, Nate thought. Beaten to death in an alley behind the mansion where I worked like a dog. His vision blurred. Darkness crept in at the edges. Just before consciousness left him completely, something strange happened. A sound. Like a chime. Ding! Nate opened his eyes to see something floating in the air, a translucent blue screen, glowing softly in the darkness of the alley. [SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE] [Welcome, User: Nate Worte] [Critical Health Status Detected: 8%] [Emergency Protocol Activated] [Starter Package Available] [Accept? YES / NO] Nate stared at the impossible screen. He had to be hallucinating. Dying. This was what happened when your brain shut down—it showed you weird things. But what did he have to lose? With the last of his strength, Nate whispered, "Yes." The screen flashed. [STARTER PACKAGE ACCEPTED] [Initiating Full Health Restoration...] [Depositing Initial Capital: $100,000,000] Warmth flooded through Nate's broken body. It started in his chest and spread outward like liquid fire. He gasped as his ribs knitted back together, the sound of bone grinding against bone. His swollen eye deflated. His crushed hand reformed. Cuts and bruises faded like they had never existed. Within ninety seconds, Nate pushed himself to his feet. He stared at his hands—whole, unmarked, stronger than before. His clothes were still bloody and torn, but beneath them, his body was perfect. Better than perfect. He could feel muscles he'd never had before, dense and powerful. The blue screen flickered again. [Health Restoration Complete: 100%] [Initial Capital Deposited Successfully] [Welcome to the Wealth Ascension System] [Your journey begins now] "What... what are you?" Nate breathed. [I am the System. I exist to help you achieve unlimited wealth and success. Complete missions. Perform good deeds. Earn points. Exchange points for money, skills, properties, or anything else you desire. Fail missions or commit harmful acts, and points will be deducted.] Nate's mind reeled. This couldn't be real but his healed body said otherwise. "You said you deposited money? How much?" [One hundred million dollars has been transferred to your primary bank account.] Nate's laugh was half-hysterical. "That's impossible." [Check your account.] With shaking hands, Nate pulled out his phone. The screen was cracked from the beating, but it still worked. He opened his banking app and nearly dropped the phone. Account Balance: $100,000,000.00 "Oh, my God." Nate's legs felt weak. "This is real. This is actually real." [The money is yours to use as you see fit. Complete missions to earn more. The first mission will be assigned shortly.] Nate touched the screen, and it minimised to a small blue dot in the corner of his vision. When he focused on it, the screen expanded again. He looked down at himself—covered in blood, wearing ripped clothes, standing in a filthy alley. But underneath, he was whole. Strong. And he had a hundred million dollars. Dylan Garrison's face flashed through his mind. The arrogant smirk. The way he'd touched Valerie. The casual cruelty in his voice: "Men like you don't get girls like her." "We'll see about that," Nate muttered. But first, he needed to get out of these clothes. Needed a place to think. Needed to figure out what the hell had just happened to him and what he was going to do with this impossible gift. Nate walked out of the alley on steady legs, leaving his old life and his old self bleeding on the concrete behind him.