Johnny Lance and the Seven Deadly Sins System of Wealth

Chapter 3: The Price of Power

Except for the flicker of the laptop screen, the room was dark. Johnny was leaning forward, his bloodshot eyes scanning numbers and graphs on the monitor. His fingers hovered just above the keyboard, which was illuminated by the green pulse of his system threads in his vision. Each thread is connected to a point in the stock market—a company, a price, an opportunity. Each one whispered the same promise: *Money. Power.*  

“Do it,” the system’s cold voice echoed in his head.  

Johnny’s finger tapped the enter key.  

“That’s it?” His voice was hoarse, almost disbelieving. “That’s all I had to do?”  

The system responded, its tone as unfeeling as ever. “The market will respond accordingly. Greed has shown you the path. Now watch.”  

Johnny leaned back in his chair, his heart racing. The screen erupted in a flurry of activity—stocks plummeting, others surging. He had shorted a failing company, betting it would collapse, and the system had guaranteed the outcome. The company’s shares tanked within minutes.  

The numbers kept dropping. Johnny’s account balance surged upward.  

“Holy shit—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. His account hit seven figures before his eyes. “I just made a million dollars. A million. In minutes. This is crazy, this is…”  

“Power,” the system interrupted.  

There was a smile curling on Johnny's lips; it was a thrill, with him a high, kind of thrill feeling. "Uh-huh. Power."

The phone vibrating on the desk stole Johnny's attention. He looked at the screen: “Marcus Blackwood.“ He allowed the ringing to go on, his previous smile shrinking into a grimace. After some moment, he cut the call and returned his focus to the laptop.

"Not now."

---

The following morning, Johnny entered a high-end swank café in downtown New Veritas. The scent of everything that was money—polished marble floors, gilded counters, baristas dressed as if they were on some sort of a catwalk. Johnny felt completely out of place in his faded leather jacket, just the way he liked it.

"Double espresso," he said, slapping a twenty on the counter.

The barista's brow lifted, as he saw five thousand dollars. "Uh, sir, that is—"

“Keep the change.” Johnny waved her off, glancing at his phone. The financial news app was buzzing with headlines.  

The barrister was shocked and happy. She grabs the thousands of dollars bill. “Thank you so much, sir.” She said trying to contain her joy.

Johnny only returned a glance and smiled.

**Market Collapse: Silverstone Corp. Files for Bankruptcy After Sudden Stock Plunge**  

**Investors Devastated by Silverstone Crash**  

A smile slipped through Johnny's lips.

“You look like you're in a good mood,” the voice interrupted the shop's general hum. Johnny turned around to see his old friend from his former job, Jake Stain, standing behind him, her hawk-like eyes on him. The fitted blazer and leather notebook were no-nonsense Lawyer attire.

"Jake," Johnny said, trying to sound surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Chasing down the new millionaire in town,” was his icy reply. He gestured toward the headlines on his phone. “How have you been.”

Johnny seeps his drink. Knowing full well he and Jake are not close friends and that this visit was either Marcus enlisting Jake's help to keep an eye on him or Jake was acting independently on his own accord.

“Oh, you know everything is the same as old. Nothing new with me.” Johnny responded nonchalantly.

Jake smiled “Silverstone Corp. Any idea how that went down?”

Johnny shrugged and slid the phone into his pocket. “Not a clue. Probably mismanagement.”

"Interesting," Jake said with his arms crossed. "They were just fine until last night. Their stock goes down, and suddenly, bankruptcy is announced. Almost like someone knew it was coming.”

Johnny emphatically raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“I’m just asking questions.” Jake craned his neck to scrutinize him. “You always had a knack for landing on your feet, Johnny. Even after all that with Marcus.”

The name Marcus made his jaw set hard. “That’s not relevant, Jake. I’ve been keeping to myself.”

“Sure," he said with enough doubt that it nearly dripped from his voice. "Whatever you say.”

He turned to the barrister “One coffee please.” And then turned back to Johnny after he got his drink “Well, enjoy your day, guess we'll talk again soon."

Jake turned away, but he threw Johnny one last glance from over his shoulder.

Exhaling slowly, Johnny tightened his grip on the cup.

---

Later that night, he sat in his penthouse, a world removed from the miserable unit he had barely left a few days ago. Before him lay the expansive night view of New Veritas, lit up like an ocean of fireflies.

He poured himself some whiskey and watched it swirl in its glass before taking a seat. The laptop lay abandoned on the coffee table, the numbers on the screen still scrolling upward.

"Seven million," he said, sipping. "Unbelievable."

"You've just started to scratch the surface," piped the system.

Johnny chuckled. "You have a point. I can do anything with this thing."

"Anything," the system concurred. "Just remember, every gain comes at a cost."

Johnny grimaced, ready to respond, but was interrupted by a buzz from his phone. He picked it up and stared at an unrecognized number.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Lance," a woman's voice quivered slightly on the line. "This is Rosa Martinez. I-I need to talk to you."

"Who?"

"Rosa Martinez," she said again, her tone cracking with emotion. "You don't know me, but...you destroyed my life."

His stomach turned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

“You made millions off Silverstone’s collapse, didn’t you?” Rosa’s voice grew sharper, more desperate. “You ruined that company, and now people like me are paying the price!”  

Johnny was standing there, pacing in the room. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but you have the wrong guy. I don't have anything to do with Silverstone."

"Don't lie to me!" she cried. "I had my life savings in that company! Everything I had gone! I can't pay rent, and I can't feed my kids, and it's all because of you!"

He stopped in his stride and tightened his grip on the phone. "...I didn't force you to invest in anything," he said with icy coldness. "That's not my problem."

By then, Rosa's sob stories were being transmitted through the line. "Not your problem? You don't care who you hurt, do you? As long as you get your money..."

He clenched his jaw, the free hand making a tight fist. "Look-the thing I'm sorry for concerning what happened to you, but that's the way this world goes: some people win, some people lose. It's not personal."

"It's personal to me!" she cried. "You're a monster, Johnny Lance. A monster!"

The line went dead.

He stared at the phone, heart pounding; threw it onto the couch, and gulped down the remainder of his whiskey in one shot.

---

The following morrow, Johnny would be a passenger at the back of a sleek black car as the driver weaved through the clogged streets of New Veritas. Outside the window, he sat staring into space, as his mind overplayed Rosa's words, "You're a monster..."

The car slowed as they passed by a protest outside a Silverstone office building. A mob stood bearing signs, faces twisted with rage and despair.

"Thieves!" someone yelled.

"They stole everything!" another voice cried.

Johnny's gaze snapped to a woman in the crowd, clutching a small child to her chest. Her eyes were red from crying and swollen, bulging out on her tired surface.

"Stop the car," Johnny said abruptly.

The driver looked back at him in the rearview mirror. "Sir?"

“I said stop the car!” Johnny barked.  

The car came to a halt, and Johnny stepped out, drawing stares from the crowd. He adjusted his coat, his eyes scanning the sea of angry faces.  

“Hey!” someone yelled, pointing at him. “That’s Johnny Lance!”  

The crowd surged toward him, their voices rising in a chaotic roar.  

“You stole our money!”  

“Give it back!”  

Johnny raised his hands defensively. “Alright, calm down! Everyone just calm down!”  

“Calm down?” a man shouted, shoving his way to the front. “My wife’s in the hospital because of you! We lost everything!”  

Johnny took a step back, his pulse racing. “Listen, I didn’t force anyone to invest. That’s not how this works. You all knew the risks.”  

“Risks?” the man spat. “You manipulated the system! You’re nothing but a crook!”  

Voices rising in anger clanged at him as he clenched his fist in rage over an unshakable mind racing over the possible routes through which he could find an escape.

"Get inside the car, sir!" the driver yelled opening a door for him.

Johnny thought about it for just a moment and was unsure, therefore he entered back into the confines of the car. The driver then brought down the door and sped away, leaving the noise of the rampaging crowd behind.

Johnny slumped against his seat, filling his palms with a shivering sensation.

"You are a monster..." Rosa's shadow of voice again formed to echo in his mind.

"No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

But the guilt gnawed at him, and for the first time, the power of Greed didn’t feel so intoxicating.