Zero to the Greatest and Richest

Chapter 3

As I strolled out of the school gates, the familiar tune of a Bruno Mars song hummed softly under my breath. Thoughts wandered through my mind, pondering the possibilities of wealth through music.

‘I think I can sell them to some famous singer. But I need the internet. This damn small city of mine has no internet till now. I need to go to a bigger city.’

My worn backpack rested on my shoulders; it was old and ugly, as ugly as my shoes. I moved my arms rhythmically, wielding a stick as if to warm up my body.

Suddenly, Roger's voice pierced the air, his finger pointing directly at me. He was flanked by ten of his friends. "Alex, don't you dare to run!"

“Roger,” I yelled, “I spent last night with your mother. Fuck her hard. She screamed like a horny bitch. You might find yourself with a new stepbrother soon! Call me Step Daddy now you ungrateful brat!”

Enraged, Roger commanded, “Chase him!”

Assuming a defensive stance, I readied myself, holding two sticks in front of me, a skill honed in the military.

Facing kids, I didn't feel any fear. As the first student lunged towards me, I swiftly struck his head with my right stick as hard as I could and jabbed the other student in the nose with my left.

I felt the hard impact on my hands. Before the group could encircle me, I spun around and sprinted away, my heart racing.

‘Hit and run.’

I had to make a quick escape. The schoolyard was bustling with students, which worked to my advantage, slowing down those in pursuit.

“Excuse me, handsome man passing,” I yelled. Darting through the crowd, I glanced back, taking the opportunity to strike the nearest chaser with precision. My stick found its targets – one's face, another's neck, and a third's shinbone. Their cries of pain echoed behind me as they fell.

As one almost grabbed my clothes, I maneuvered my stick to deflect his hand and countered with a swift strike to his face. Then, I took off running again.

"Four down, four to go..." I muttered, but then paused. Why was I scared of engaging in this childish conflict? They were only four people left. With a newfound resolve, I stopped and turned, ready to confront the remaining attackers.

I carefully analyzed each of their unskilled movements and defenseless body postures, allowing me to easily deliver precise strikes to crucial points by harnessing the full force of my body—employing my wrists, waist, and legs to maximize impact.

My blows landed on their faces, noses, and bones, resulting in three of them falling to the ground, screaming in pain with blood on their faces.

‘Once in wartime, I faced 20 enemy soldiers alone, and I survived.’

Roger, the last of his companions, arrived to find them all defeated and sprawled on the ground. I beckoned to him with a taunting wave. "Come on, my stepson Roger, don't be shy!" But he turned and fled. Determined not to let him escape so easily, I pursued and struck him once more.

And again, and again…

Drenched in sweat, I realized that exerting myself physically was strangely therapeutic. The stress seemed to melt away with each time I hit him.

‘Real-life GTA is the best.’

Just then, Iris, a female friend of mine, approached. "Alex, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

"Oh, hi, Iris," I greeted her, trying to sound casual.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Did you just talk to me?"

"Let's walk home together," I suggested, falling into step beside her. "I'm sorry for ignoring you."

She didn't respond verbally but continued walking home with her head bowed. I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Iris and I had been close; she lived near me, and we often exchanged comics.

Gradually, we became close. She might not have been conventionally beautiful, but all young females are pretty by age.

She was a friend I'd turn to in idle moments, and our conversations had spanned almost a year. Then, everything changed on what I now refer to as 'the broken hill day.'

That was the day Iris confessed her love for me. I reacted by running away, literally and metaphorically. Was it fear, cowardice, or simply because I didn't reciprocate her feelings? Perhaps I valued my freedom too much or had feelings for someone else.

The truth was, I didn't have a clear answer...

I continued to disregard Iris's attempts to reconnect, even when she claimed her feelings had changed. But in that moment, walking home with her, I decided to engage in our usual small talk.

As we passed her house, a sudden curiosity overtook me. "Can I come in?" I asked.

Her response was shy but welcoming. "You've been here before. Just come in."

Entering her house, a myriad of thoughts raced through my mind. I knew her family situation: her father was gone, her mother worked long hours, and her brother was rarely home before nightfall. The house was essentially empty.

As I closed the door behind me, I approached Iris, my emotions a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "Do you still love me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her initial nod was hesitant, but then she quickly shook her head as if to negate her own response.

In that moment, driven by a surge of feelings I couldn't fully understand, I drew closer to her. Our eyes locked, and I gently kissed her. She was taken aback at first, but gradually, her arms wrapped around my neck, returning the kiss with equal intensity.

The heat of the moment was overwhelming, and before I knew it, we had moved to the couch. Her eyes, misty and filled with a complex mix of emotions, met mine. "Alex, please..."

As I kissed her neck and felt her responding to my touch, I started to touch her body intensely. She also began to let out heavy breaths and moans. Suddenly, clarity hit me. This wasn't right. In an instant, I pulled away, leaving her in a state of shock and disbelief.

"Alex..." she murmured in hope and desire.

In that moment, as Iris looked at me with a mixture of longing and confusion, I struggled to articulate my feelings. "I can be kind to you, Iris. I can give you affection and even the best pleasure you can dream of, and still be safe, but I can't reciprocate your love. There's someone else on my mind. I'll treat you well until I leave for the big city for high school," I explained, trying to manage both my emotions and desires.

I knew that crossing certain boundaries could lead to serious consequences, not just emotionally, but legally as well. My future was at stake, and I couldn't risk it all for a fleeting moment.

I still don't have the courage to hurt her feelings.

With a heavy heart, I headed for the door, aware that lingering any longer would only make things harder. "If you think you can handle a relationship without romantic love, meet me tomorrow," I offered as a compromise. As I walked away, thoughts swirled in my mind.

‘Do I suppose to do her? Or don't do it, let her real boyfriend do her. I am just playing; I shouldn't take what's important to her. Her virginity. Well, she doesn't mind if I take her virginity, but she may not understand the consequence. I am an adult, so I need to think for her.’

‘Still coward Alex?’

‘Haven't you promised to be the devil? There is no cowardly devil...’

***

Returning home, I was greeted by the familiar yet unwelcoming sight of my old house, a place soon to be sold due to financial burdens. The atmosphere at home was always tense.

My mother, a housewife, was frequently ill and irritable. My father, a contractor with multiple female partners and a gambler, contributed to the constant chaos. Their arguments were a daily occurrence.

Once I thought every family was always like this, but soon, as I grew up, I realized that our family was just what people refer to as a broken home.

There was no love, only anger and negative emotions. I learned from them, which made life in the big city turn tragic—the wrong art of communication.

"Don't yell!" People always said that to me. At that time, I still thought yelling was an art of communication, yet they saw it as an art of domination, and it was considered rude.

You can think of it as a polite cave man trying to talk with an English noble gentleman.

In our household, expressions of love were rare. I couldn't recall ever embracing my mother. Our family dynamic was based more on obedience and duty rather than affection. Despite this, I felt a deep sense of failure.

I had not been the son I thought they needed, one who could alleviate their financial worries and bring some semblance of pride during their later years.

Instead, I only added to their burdens, both financially and emotionally, deepening the sense of shame that haunted our family.

Overwhelmed by the nostalgic feeling and the burdens I would face in the future, I found solace in my small, shared room with my younger brother.

The tears I had been holding back finally escaped as I whispered to myself, "I must change the future. I have to succeed. I'll do whatever it takes to live without regrets."

My tears fell down. I don't want to live in hardship anymore. After a while calming myself, I opened the karma system and was shocked.

[You protected yourself from being hit, gain +100 points for bravery. You hit too many people, gain -200 bad karma. Your total points are - 80; you will gain bad luck or you need to pay with real money.

Your popularity just increased by 132 points because people saw you hitting people. Total popularity points: +187.

You just gained a new girlfriend; she loves you 30 points out of 100. Total points: +40.

Please complete your health training quest #1.]

I smirked. Having lived this long, I already knew many tricks to outrun the system that is based on karma.

I closed my eyes and started my prayer, "Dear True Source, God, Our Creator, Whoever You are, please forgive me, my family, and all people around the world. So they can be saved from their sins, from their anger, from their arrogance, and all the bad things they are doing. Wish all the best for everyone around the world, especially the readers.

Amen… Kun faya kun… whatever.

[You are praying for all people in need, you gain +100 positive karma. And I know what's in your mind; you cannot keep praying this. It's only effective once a day.]

‘Damn, once a day.’

Time to do my training.

I already walked 3 km from school to home, so that part of the list is already checked off. All I need to do now is 50 push-ups and 50 sit-ups.

Easy peasy.

I did them in an hour, and all my muscles were screaming in pain. I forgot; my small body was untrained, unlike my old body.

[You got your first reward.]