The morning at Conbert High was almost normal. Almost.
Four students stood in the main corridor near the lockers, an unlikely group that wouldn't have been caught dead together five days ago. Henry, Alex, Daniel Sterling, and Merrick, Daniel's skinny friend who never seemed to leave his side.
There was nothing in common that would attract these four if it wasn't for Mark Lidorf.
"Where'd he get the money to afford that bike?" Alex leaned against the lockers, arms crossed tight against his chest. His problem with Mark wasn't hatred yet. It was betrayal. The hidden camera in his sister's apartment had shown him everything.
Mark and Alexa on the dining table, then moving to the couch. Everything Alex hadn't wanted to see but couldn't stop watching. He hadn't told Alexa he knew. Hadn't confronted Mark either. But the knowledge sat in his stomach like poison, festering with each passing day.
"Heard he sold his house after his dad's funeral," Henry said quietly, adjusting his glasses the way he always did when he was uncomfortable.
He didn't hate Mark, not exactly, but something had shifted between them. That phone call the night Detective Lidorf died, Mark laughing when Henry needed him most. Then Henry not showing up to the funeral because he didn't know how to face it, didn't know what to say to someone whose father had just died.
Now Mark was back with a twenty-five thousand dollar bike and Henry could feel the gap between them widening into a chasm he'd never be able to cross.
"That's stupid," Merrick said, shaking his head. "What's he gonna do when the money runs out? Live on the street?"
"Yeah." Henry nodded, thinking about rent, about utilities, about how fast seventy thousand from a house sale would disappear in a city like this. "He's gonna burn through that cash in months. Six, maybe. Then what?"
"Though I gotta admit," Merrick added, unable to help himself, "dude looks different now."
Daniel shot him a look that could melt steel. Complimenting Mark was basically treason at this point. Daniel had spent three days in detention for the cafeteria fight while Mark walked away with nothing but a warning and sympathy from teachers who suddenly cared. The injustice of it burned in his chest every time he thought about it.
"Different how?" Alex asked, curious despite himself.
Alex had seen real money. Generational wealth. The kind that didn't need to be flashed around or announced. And he felt like if a person truly had money, there was no need to show it off like this. Like screaming about your wealth just proved you weren't used to having it.
All these guys standing around him didn't know he was rich, didn't know his family name carried weight in rooms they'd never enter. And he was still wondering how circumstances had made him join forces with losers like these. But here he was anyway.
"I don't know, man. Confident? Like he doesn't give a shit anymore." Henry shrugged, trying to find the words. "Like he's not scared of anything now."
The four of them stood in silence, watching the parking lot through the corridor windows. Other students filtered past, heading to lockers and first period, completely oblivious to the alliance forming at their edges.
"There," Merrick pointed suddenly. "There he is."
Through the window, they watched a black BMW R18 Transcontinental pull into the parking lot, chrome gleaming in the morning sun like a promise or a threat. The engine cut with a deep rumble that carried through the glass, and Mark Lidorf swung off the bike with practiced ease, like he'd been riding for years instead of days.
He pulled off his helmet and his hair caught the light just right. New clothes, new jacket, new everything. Even from this distance, the transformation was obvious.
****
The death of Detective Michael Lidorf was not something Mark had wanted, but it was working for him now. No attachments. No obligations. No one to answer to or worry about disappointing. Just him and the Eternal Wealth System, climbing higher with every completed task.
And a new task was waiting. The only thing that had his full attention this morning.
[ETERNAL WEALTH SYSTEM | TASK FOUR: Acquire the Bloodglass at Viw Auction]
[LOCATION: Friday 8:00 PM, Viw Auction House | REQUIRED BID: $1,000,000]
[REWARD: $2,000,000]
[TIME REMAINING: 48:00:00 | CURRENT BALANCE: $575,000]
[CHALLENGE: Raise additional $425,000]
Mark stared at the numbers floating in his vision. The system only counted what was on the system card. It didn't include the forty thousand from the house sale or the five thousand on Alexa's card—which meant it indicated he needed to raise $425,000, when in reality, the gap was closer to $380,000.
Still massive. Still seemingly impossible for a normal eighteen-year-old. But Mark wasn't normal.
"The Bloodglass is the last known red diamond of its kind," the system's voice explained, cold and precise. "Completing this task will not only earn you two million in system funds but also expose you to valuable business partners at the auction. High-net-worth individuals. Future connections. This is an investment in more than money."
"And how exactly am I supposed to raise almost four hundred grand in two days?" Mark asked quietly, walking across the parking lot toward the school entrance.
"That is the challenge, Mr. Lidorf. This task is designed to test your business acumen, not your ability to exploit emotional connections. You have resources. You have knowledge from decades of experience. You have connections to wealth through multiple channels. The question is whether you're intelligent enough to leverage them properly."
The Viw Auction wasn't just another event. It was the event for a specific tier of wealth. Millionaires, heirs, corporate sharks all competing for rare items and exclusive opportunities. No billionaires attended—too small for them, beneath their notice. But for everyone else in that second tier of wealth? It was a feeding frenzy. A proving ground.
Mark had heard of it before, back when he was Hugo. Jimmy Pabebuncano had once asked him for six hundred thousand to buy something from that very auction—and the spoiled kid had actually pulled it off, impressing Ben Sentara enough to get more responsibility.
That was the level of player who attended. Not kings of industry, but princes of money. People on the rise, people trying to prove themselves, people making moves.
A million dollars would crush most of the competition in that room. With that kind of buying power, he'd dominate every bid. Make a statement. Get noticed by the right people.
The problem was simple, really. He just had to make a million dollars appear in forty-eight hours.