BEST SERVED COLD: THE ULTIMATE REVENGE SYSTEM

He Can't Afford Them?

The crisp, loud ring of his phone shattered Sabito's calm. He looked down and his heart caught to his throat!

He has totally forgotten! Even though he now possessed a complicated kind of power he couldn't explain to people, he had sworn never to act above them when he one day became wealthy.

They had given their life for him, clothed and sheltered him and suffered on his behalf, hence his vow.

He dragged his eyes away from the road for a moment, glancing down at the name “Mother” displayed across his phone screen when it rang for the fourth time.

He frowned, wondering why she was calling this incessantly. That was when Makio’s words from earlier rang in his head.

Seven days. He had been unconscious for seven days and maybe his family was already worried sick. He instantly feels as guilt tied a rope around his heart.

Even though he hadn't intended to make them worry, it still didn't change the fact that he had done it.

Picking up his phone that lay on the center console, he placed his thumb finger on the green icon, ready to swipe it, but halfway through it, he suddenly thought against it.

He knew what awaited him the second he answered that phone. He was tired of hearing it, of feeling so little and inadequate from his family, so he would wait until he got home.

Swiping the opposite direction from the initial swipe, he smoothly declined the call. He needed to do something else.

{What do you need, host?}

Sabito's eyes widened for a second when he heard the robotic voice of the system ask.

“Do you read my thoughts too?” He asked, and somehow, he found it cool.

{Only if you want me to.}

“So did I allow you?” he questioned, stepping on the brakes to slow down before taking a left.

He stepped on the paddle again and the car raced like a drifting air.

{We are connected, so your thoughts are technically mine, and mine, yours.}

“So, in order words…” he asked, grunting as he suddenly veered to another right, again.

Damn, why did there have to be so many turns? He grits out.

{It means that you can technically do anything or get your hands on anything you want to, or get.}

Sabito didn't understand. He hadn't instructed the system that he wanted anything. But since it had asked, why not make the most out of it?

Moreover, he was already thinking about how he was going to find an agent's number. Now that he thought about it, he needed a new house, but first, he needed to shop!

Sabito pulled into the parking lot of the most luxurious shopping mall in the city. Before he became wealthy, he had always dreamed of coming to this particular boutique.

L&K, known for its luxurious, custom-tailored designs, was a boutique that only the wealthiest could afford to step into.

To him, it wasn't just a store—it was a status symbol. Sabito has once stood outside its glass doors, staring at the dazzling displays, wishing he could afford even the smallest accessory from its collections.

He stepped out of his newly acquired car, the red paint reflecting the afternoon sun. As he walked through the grand doors, the cool air conditioning welcomed him first, along with the faint scent of expensive leather and designer colognes.

Sabito stepped into the boutique, the soft chime of the entrance bell barely audible over the murmurs of employees chatting amongst themselves.

Through the transparent glass, he saw customers shopping, male and female alike, scanning for clothes and then either dropping them into their cart or moving to the next section.

The interior of the store was polished, glass glinting like freshly cut diamonds under the warm overhead lighting. Every shelf was perfectly arranged, every mannequin draped in elegance.

But as he took another step further in, the conversation halted.

Several pairs of eyes turned towards him, scanning him from his head to his toe. His clothes were worn out, and even his shoes too.

Behind him, a voice spoke. “Excuse me, sir,” she said, her tone overly polite yet dripping with condescending mockery.

Sabito turned around to see a tall, sharp featured saleswomen, flipping her neatly styled hair over her shoulder. And then, with practiced grace, she clasped her hands together in front of her, something Sabito found appaling.

She was acting graceful while looking down on him and speaking derogatory words to him.

“I'm sorry, but this boutique carries only exclusive brands. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable somewhere… else?” The sales woman sneered.

A few employees snickered under their breath. One even turned to another and whispered, but loud enough for him to her. “Did he get lost on his way to the thrift store?”

Instead of a frown, a smirk instead danced on his thin lips. “Is that so?” His voice was light, almost amused. “Then what would it take for someone like me to be… comfortable here?”

The sales woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Sure there is,” she said and Sabito listened attentively, only for her to drop a spirit dropping words. “For starters, a budget that matches our clientele.,”

She crossed her arms, not bothering to hide her disdain. “We don't do window shopping here.”

Another chuckle rippled through the employees, but Sabito only raised his chin even higher, and started walking around like he owned the place.

The sales attendant frowned when he suddenly started walking around. She thought the man must have lost his senses to even walk around in the place.

“Sir, you need to leave now.” She cautioned with a voice that was full of disbelief and eyes that glared deadly glaciers as she walked behind him in an attempt to stop him.

“Sir, if you touch anything with your dirty hands and mess it up with your filth, then it's all on you. Just leave now, while you're being—”

“Warned?” She halted abruptly—almost bumping into him when Sabito stopped just as suddenly when she cut her off.

He paused by a mannequin wearing a jet-black suit and nodded approvingly.

“This, I'll take this one,” he said casually. “And maybe four others like it. Preferably in darker shades.”

The attendant blinked, more than angry than taken aback. “Are you crazy? Those suits starts at twenty thousand—”

“Dollars?” Sabito cuts her off exasperated. “Yeah I know. Wrap them up.”

Sabito waited for movement and when the attendant didn't make any, he frowned at her indignation. “Why aren't you packing them up?”

The attendant's arms crossed over her chest and with a challenging voice said, “because you can't afford it! I told you, leave before I call the manager on you!”

“He can't afford it?” A mocking tone came from behind them. “Then I'll take it. All of them.”