After carefully removing the suit and placing it back into the Luxeon box, I closed it with deliberate care.
The elegant emblem shimmered faintly in the evening light—a mark of luxury that didn't belong in a life like mine. Or at least, not the one everyone thought I lived.
I leaned back with a breath and looked around the quiet villa. Everything was ready. But the idea of returning to the dorm tonight didn't feel right. Not with this… still on my mind.
Besides, no one would question it. To them, I was just some poor scholarship student who decided to stay out for a night. Nothing suspicious.
Pulling out my phone, I opened the group chat. It was still buzzing with the usual nonsense—James arguing about playlists, Ethan dropping over-the-top cologne suggestions, and Luke bragging about his girlfriend's dress.
I typed a short, casual message.
{Cedric}: Staying out tonight. Don't wait up.
{James}: Dang, city boy now?
{Ethan}: Get us leftovers if you're crashing someone's place.
{Luke}: You better not be sleeping on a bench again, man.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. They had no idea. And I planned to keep it that way.
'Better like this,' I thought, leaning back into the plush cushions. 'Less explaining to do.'
[It's not deception. It's discretion.]
'That's what they all say.'
I let my phone fall onto the couch and closed my eyes, the quiet hum of the villa wrapping around me like a comforting veil.
Just as I was beginning to settle in, the familiar chime echoed in my head.
[New task issued.]
I blinked. Of course. The system never allowed peace for too long.
A sleek, matte-black card shimmered into existence on the table. Silver lettering traced its edges, and a faint glow pulsed from the embedded chip.
[This is a LuxeBank Centurion Card loaded with 10 million dollars.]
[Task: You must invest the entire amount within 7 days. Failing to do so will result in the complete revocation of all current privileges, including your assets, identity shielding, and Villa Élysée.]
My hand hovered over the card, heart drumming in my chest.
'Ten million dollars... and I have to invest all of it?'
[Affirmative. Direct spending or holding the funds is prohibited. Every dollar must be placed into an active investment.]
'And if I mess up?'
[Everything you've gained—your identity, belongings, and this estate—will be revoked.]
I picked up the card. Cold. Heavy. Unreal.
'Perfect. No pressure at all.'
[Pressure creates diamonds.]
'Or a crater,' I muttered, walking to the window.
The cliffside view was as breathtaking as ever, but my mind raced. Ten million dollars. One week. No mistakes.
'Where the hell do I even begin?'
Once the initial panic passed, I slumped into the couch and stared at the sleek black card resting in my hand. Its surface gleamed under the afternoon light, a small silver emblem glinting near the corner—LuxeBank Centurion.
The number one bank in the world. Private. Exclusive. Ruthlessly elite.
This wasn't just any card. It was a Centurion-tier investment card—something only billionaires and power brokers ever touched. And it was in my hands.
"$10,000,000..." I whispered.
Just saying it out loud felt surreal.
Ten. Million. Dollars.
It wasn't just a number anymore—it was real. It was sitting in my hand. Mine to use. Mine to risk.
I let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through my hair.
'Okay... calm down. Breathe.'
My reflection in the glass of the villa's tall windows looked nothing like the 'poor scholarship kid' everyone thought I was. Not with the cliffside mansion behind me.
Not with a tailored Luxeon suit upstairs. And definitely not with a LuxeBank Centurion card carrying $10,000,000 burning a hole in my palm.
Still… now that the adrenaline faded, a smile tugged at my lips.
'Ten million dollars... I can't believe this.'
The system, in all its twisted ways, had just handed me something people spent lifetimes chasing—and expected me to gamble it all within a week.
And somehow… a part of me was excited.
I leaned back against the plush cushions, card still in hand, and let out a long sigh.
"This is crazy," I muttered, staring up at the ceiling. "Ten million dollars. Are you trying to get me arrested?"
[You're welcome.]
I snorted. "Oh, you want a thank you? Should I throw in a hug too?"
[Physical affection is unnecessary. Emotional gratitude is acceptable.]
I shook my head with a quiet laugh. "You're unreal."
[On the contrary, I am very real. Would you like a reminder of what happens if you fail the task?]
"Pass," I said immediately. "I got the message loud and clear. Invest everything or lose everything."
[Correct. See? You're learning.]
I sighed again, letting my head drop to the side. "You know… if I crash and burn with this money, you better at least let me keep the villa. That's fair, right?"
[Failure equals total revocation of all privileges, including the estate. Please try not to crash and burn.]
"Comforting," I muttered. "You're real good at pep talks."
[Thank you. I try my best.]
I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. It was strange how I was starting to get used to the system's sarcasm-laced responses. In its own weird way, it was… kind of fun.
Still, I stared at the card again, my fingers tightening around it.
"Alright," I murmured. "Let's make this work."
Time slipped by quietly, and it wouldn't be long before Thomas arrived to pick me up for the banquet.
I stood in front of the mirror inside one of Villa Élysée's quiet dressing rooms, the Luxeon suit neatly laid out. Even now, it felt surreal. Luxeon was known for its clean, modern tailoring and limited-run collections. Not flashy—just quietly exclusive.
I changed into the suit slowly, adjusting each piece with care. The fabric felt smooth and weightless, tailored exactly to my frame. A deep charcoal black with subtle silver detailing at the cuffs and lapel—simple, sharp, and refined. It didn't scream for attention, but it didn't need to.
When I finally looked at myself in the mirror, I paused.
I looked… composed.
Not out of place. Not like I was playing dress-up. Just calm. Capable. Like someone people might actually take seriously.
I stepped into the hallway and began to walk, practicing my posture. Shoulders steady, movements deliberate. I stopped, turned, imagined greeting someone, and adjusted the way I smiled. I wasn't just trying to look the part—I was trying to feel it, own it.
Then I sat, crossing one leg over the other, hands resting naturally. I leaned back slightly, refined but relaxed. This wasn't about pretending to be noble. It was about showing I belonged—without saying a word.
The sky outside was beginning to dim, casting a soft gold through the tall windows.
Thomas would be here soon.
I took one last breath, let it settle, and focused on holding that stillness a little longer. Just until it became second nature.
Thomas arrived right on time, the quiet hum of the black car echoing softly outside Villa Élysée.
He stepped out and gave a brief once-over, his brows lifting slightly the moment he saw me by the steps, fully dressed in the Luxeon suit.
"You're looking sharp today, Young Master," he said with a rare note of surprise in his voice.
I offered a faint smile. "Figured it wouldn't hurt to look presentable."
As we got into the car and pulled away from the villa, Thomas spoke up after a short pause.
"You know, Oliver came over the other day—looked pretty surprised when he found out we live in the same neighborhood."
I raised an eyebrow. "He didn't know?"
"Not at all," Thomas smirked. "They've all got this image in their heads that you're… well, not exactly the type to live in a place like this."
I leaned back in the seat, the corners of my mouth tugging up.
'Good. Let them keep thinking that.'
The voice chimed in softly, a hint of amusement lacing its usual mechanical tone.
[Well done, Cedric. You've maintained excellent temperance despite the situation. Most would have flaunted by now.]
'I don't need to prove anything to them,' I thought, eyes still on the passing cityscape outside the car window.
[Precisely. The true elegance lies in restraint. You're adapting faster than expected, Young Master.]
'I'm not sure if that's a compliment or pressure.'
[It's both.]
I let out a quiet breath, but I couldn't help the faint smile tugging at my lips.