Levi sighed. The kind of deep, dramatic sigh that could deflate a god's ego.
[Master…] she said with that tone. You know the one. That tired, judgmental, you're-about-to-do-something-totally-immoral-and-I-hate-that-I-love-it tone.
Parker's eyes twitched upward as the system notification slid across his field of vision like the punchline to a cosmic joke he wasn't supposed to laugh at—but absolutely did.
Infinity Equivalent Exchange is a Concept that lets Parker buy anything—as long as he has the money to match its true worth. But this isn't normal money.
His wealth is treated as pure authority, turned into a metaphysical force. He doesn't need permission, signatures, or deals. If the value of what he offers matches the soul of what he wants, the universe makes the trade instantly. No laws, no owners, not even reality itself can block it. It's not just about being rich—it's about having the kind of wealth that commands the world to obey.
He stared at the screen like it had just proposed a throuple with logic and crime.
Then grinned. Real slow.
"Oh this is dirty," he muttered.
Levi groaned. [This isn't just dirty, Master. This is straight-up villain arc.]
"No," he whispered, eyes gleaming, "this is generational wealth arc, Levi. This is I-just-bought-your-granddad's-granddad's-house-arc."
[It violates every system ethic—]
"So does the IRS. Keep going."
He leaned back, folding his arms like a king who'd just realized the chessboard only had one player. His lips curled with mischief. He wasn't just the law anymore—he was the acquirer of the untouchables.
Did someone say no? Too bad. Did a family swear never to sell? Cute. Did the owner die without an heir? Didn't matter.
"All I need," he whispered, "is the right amount... and I could buy Microsoft."
Levi choked. [You'd bankrupt the Federal Reserve.]
"And?" Parker shrugged. "Maybe then they'd stop printing money like it's Monopoly."
[This is cheating,] Levi said again, sounding like a goddamn disappointed professor.
"Levi, sweetheart, cheating is paying for a gym membership and never showing up. This?" He held up the system card like it was a holy relic. "This is warfare. This is capitalism with a knife."
Levi just face-palmed mid-air. [If I get disassembled by the System creator, I'm blaming you.]
"You'll be fine. You're with me. I'm part of those creators" And that was the problem.
Parker smiled to himself. That quiet kind of smile—lips barely parting, but eyes already burning like he was staring at something only he could see.
He had Infinity Equivalent Exchange now. What kind of fool would just sit back and read the description like it was some rare Pokémon card?
No. That wasn't him. That wasn't ever gonna be him.
If he had a Concept this cracked—this divine-level cheat code—then not trying it out would be the real sin. The description was one thing, but he needed proof. He needed that first taste of blood, that first domino to fall. That first empire to bend.
And wasn't he just thinking about it? Weeks ago, right before all this chaos unfolded—he'd thought of those two very first pillars of his financial life. Two small moves that will turn him into something bigger. Two names that carried weight in his story: Blackstone Tower Hotel and Divine Fitness.
Back then, they weren't just investments. They were his training wheels.
Blackstone Tower Hotel—he still remembered how it felt. His first real share in a luxury brand, something with prestige, with presence. Just holding a stake made him feel like he mattered. Like he could own.
It was the first time Parker realized that maybe greed wasn't a flaw. Maybe it was just clarity.
And Divine Fitness... that was the one that exploded. The one that stretched past states, past borders. It spread its wings and built itself into a global machine, and he had more than half of it. But funny thing—he'd never even bothered to check its real weight. Not properly. He was too busy moving forward, always running, always collecting.
Now it was time to start reaping.
He was done walking the journey. Done waiting. He had sacrificed, he had built, and now he was armed with a Concept that could force the world to hand over its crown.
"I used to dream about touching a hundred billion," he murmured, stretching like a man who'd just outgrown gravity. "Now I'm starving for trillions." He turned his head slightly.
"Levi," he said, voice cool as winter steel. "Run the numbers for me."
[Which ones?] Levi asked.
"Blacktower Hotel and Divine Fitness."
[Blacktower Hotel Valuation:
[Blacktower's market value sits around $900 million. Private, with an elite board. High profit margin, but contained. Good reputation. Easy buy.]
Parker nodded once. Expected. Solid. Familiar.
[Divine Fitness Valuation: $100,000,000,000]
There was a pause again, but this time heavier. As if even Levi had to triple-check the result. [It's sitting on a 100 billion dollar.]
Parker froze. Just slightly. No blinking. No dramatic gasp. Just a slow inhale.
"Hundred… fucking… billion?" he whispered.
[And that's a conservative read. It's scaled in thirty countries. Direct partnerships with health-tech giants. AI-driven app. Private training. Celeb endorsements. Half the wellness influencers on Earth are wearing its merch.]
Parker blinked once, eyes drifting toward the horizon. Trillions didn't feel so far anymore. He whistled, low and slow, like the world had just offered itself on a silver platter and he wasn't even sure where to bite first.
Levi coughed in his mind. [Still feel like you're cheating?]
"Nah." He chuckled darkly. "Now I feel like I'm finally playing the game right." He started to laugh—quiet at first, just a breath. But it built. Into something darker. Into that laugh again. "Fuck," he muttered. "I was dreaming of hundreds of billions. Now I have them. All that wishing… all those steps… just for me to leap over the entire process ."
He tilted his head back, hands slipping into his pockets again.
"Let's multiply it even more," he said softly. "No more waiting. No more hoping."
He looked down the hill—at the city skyline shimmering beyond the trees. A world full of things people said couldn't be bought.
He was about to prove them wrong.
One Trillion dollar at a time.