Feng slumped into the chair, the leather creaking under his weight. His head throbbed—too much wine, too many calculations. The night replayed behind his eyelids like a bad stream buffering.
Su Yuyan's laugh flickered in his memory. Sharp. Deliberate. Not the polite tinkle she used on investors, but something colder. A surgeon's scalpel disguised as a smile.
She'd been testing him.
The realization sat heavy in his gut. The Rich System had dumped him into this vipers' nest with a platinum credit line and zero instructions. But tonight? Money felt like showing up to a knife fight with a confetti cannon.
[Ding!]
A notification pulsed behind his left eye—the System's obnoxious equivalent of clearing its throat.
[Phase 1 Complete. Congratulations, dumbass.]
Feng's fingers twitched. Since when did it get sarcastic?
[Mission: Impress Without Spending]
Objective: Make a high-value target (see: Su Yuyan) actually like you. No bribes. No flashy buys.
Reward: "Social Skills (Probably)"
Penalty: 10% favorability drop. (Hope you enjoy eating ramen alone forever.)
Feng choked on his whiskey. "The hell am I supposed to do? Compliment her spreadsheet formulas?"
The System's reply dripped with fake cheer:
[Pro tip: Try not being a wallet with legs.]
Outside, a car backfired. Feng stared at the ceiling. Somewhere in the city, Su Yuyan was probably dissecting his every word. And the System had just yanked his safety net.
Game on.