A told her that it would disappear for two days and asked her to wait patiently.
It used a tone of notification and vanished before she could reply.
Jiang Kou's nerves, however, hadn't settled.
For the first time in over a decade, she felt this kind of unease.
The last time was back in elementary school, when the class went on a field trip. She had gone to a public restroom alone and accidentally witnessed a violent gunfight between two gangs. Bullets from submachine guns rattled down at her feet.
Right now, her mood was nearly identical: a mix of curiosity and fear.
She wanted to take a closer look at the crossfire—but also dreaded getting caught by a stray bullet.
That push and pull between fear and fascination tugged at her with equal force.
After a moment of thought, Jiang Kou decided to have a drink.
There's nothing a drink can't fix. If one won't do it, two will.
Worried that A might suddenly reappear and laser-tag her wine glass, she opened a food delivery app she'd never used before and ordered a bottle of organic wine—pure, chemical-free, guaranteed to be produced before the 21st century.
—Priced at $80,000 a bottle.
Perfect. No risk of accidental charges. She didn't even have $80,000 in her account.
She didn't even have $800.
Her phone was sluggish. The loading icon spun for a long time before the screen finally showed: Payment Successful.
The app confirmed the order, and a drone was en route to her location.
Jiang Kou stared blankly at the screen.
Had she really bought an $80,000 bottle of wine?
Did she really have $100 million in her account?
Had she really become a billionaire?
She clenched her teeth and ordered a few more outrageously expensive items. All showed Payment Successful.
Since nothing had arrived yet, it still didn't feel real.
So she picked a luxury apartment—$120,000 per month—and hit confirm.
This time, the payment failed.
Before she could process it, the app notified her that she had been blacklisted by the Biotech sector and was banned from entering central city zones.
However, she could still rent luxury residences in other areas, and several listings were recommended.
Jiang Kou had nearly forgotten about that.
Eventually, she managed to rent a three-story townhouse in a wealthy suburban district.
Payment successful.
Just as that went through, the items she had ordered—including the wine—began arriving.
A drone's signal light blinked outside her window.
Jiang Kou opened the window and retrieved the shopping bags, still feeling like it was all some kind of absurd dream.
—Outside the window, neon lights glowed over a cityscape of towering corporate skyscrapers, their jagged silhouettes like distant mountain ranges. Cold lines of steel clashed with soft reflections of light and mist, like jellyfish gliding silently through the deep sea.
Below, the slums sprawled in tangled webs of electrical cables—like rotting seaweed.
And here she was, standing at her window, eye to eye with the skyscrapers, receiving a bag of merchandise worth tens of thousands.
Jiang Kou had always been rational, never the artistic type, but even she could feel the surreal irony of this moment.
Fortunately, society had long educated her out of sentimentality. She only paused for a heartbeat before accepting the bags.
Everything she ordered had arrived.
This wasn't a dream.
She really had become a billionaire.
The wine had been delivered in a special temperature- and humidity-controlled case.
Jiang Kou searched the case for a decanter, but couldn't find one.
Apparently, the seller never imagined someone who could afford an $80,000 bottle wouldn't own a decanter.
Left with no other option, Jiang Kou grabbed an oversized enamel bowl to decant it.
After ten minutes, she couldn't be bothered to pour it into a wine glass anymore. She simply held the bowl and took two large gulps.
The first sip was noticeably different from the cheap wines she was used to.
Slightly acidic, spicy, with a rich blackcurrant aroma.
Minutes later, the taste still lingered in her mouth.
Unfortunately, her greedy and uncultured taste buds quickly adapted to the expensive flavor—and could no longer detect anything special.
·
Ring ring ring—
Ring ring ring—
At 9 a.m., Jiang Kou was woken by her phone.
She groggily opened her eyes to find an enamel bowl on the floor, shopping bags scattered around, and an empty wine bottle near her feet.
The memories rushed back.
She had gotten drunk the night before, hugging the bottle on the couch and binge-watching Cyber Siren until she fell asleep to the soaring vocals.
Ring ring ring—
The phone was still ringing. She blinked hard and groped around the couch until she finally found her phone.
She picked up. A synthetic voice greeted her:
"Hello Ms. Jiang! We're pleased to inform you that the lease you signed at 19:50 yesterday has now taken effect.
"This is the direct line for Blue Island Residences. If you need moving services, don't hesitate to contact us!"
Jiang Kou stared blankly at the phone.
Then it all came back to her.
She had talked to her own AI.
The AI had transferred her a hundred million dollars.
She'd used it to rent a ridiculously expensive home in a rich district.
And now the building manager was calling.
So, should she move or not?
Should she use this illegitimate fortune to live in total decadence?
It took her less than two seconds to decide—
Of course she'd move!
Even if this was her last supper, it better taste good.
She'd been living on the edge ever since getting fired.
If she was going to die anyway, might as well experience what it was like to live rich.
Jiang Kou called the manager back. "Hello, yes. I need moving services—right now."
·
It all felt like a Hollywood movie.
Within thirty minutes of her call, a moving crew dropped from the sky.
Jiang Kou counted at least twenty people. Her slum apartment was so cramped, they barely had space to stand.
Efficient and silent, they dismantled her turret, folded her synthetic clothes, carefully sorted her discarded trash, and in the end, packed everything into two cardboard boxes.
In the stunned silence of her slum neighbors, Jiang Kou boarded a hovercar headed to the rich district.
Ten minutes later, she stood in front of her new residence.
She didn't really get it—why call this a "residence" when it had fountains, a garden, a manmade beach, and an underground garage?
"Palace" felt more accurate.
Jiang Kou looked up at the ultramodern structure. The front doors were as massive as cathedral gates—three times the size of normal doors.
The living room was clean and spacious. A grand piano sat on the far right.
For some reason, the sight brought her back to the day she got fired.
Security had pinned her to the desk and injected a tranquilizer into her neck.
Only a tranquilizer—not anesthesia.
She had been fully conscious as they dragged her to the operating table and removed her retinal chip.
Even now, she could still feel the microscopic sting as nanobots embedded into her retinal cells were forcibly extracted.
Everything had gone blurry.
Her database access failed. Her lab pass failed. Her internal network access failed.
Her assets were frozen. Her employment revoked. Her academic record deleted.
All her published papers vanished.
Jiang Kou—the top researcher—had been erased from academia and the internet alike.
She shrugged and sat on the piano bench. In the reflective surface of the polished piano, she saw her own reflection.
Dry, wild, teal-green hair. The silver ring in her nose, once sleek and stylish, now looked like cheap plastic against the luxury decor.
She stared at her own face, then casually brushed her hair back and smiled—bold and unbothered.
For the next two days, Jiang Kou fully embraced a life of decadence.
Even after swapping out every piece of furniture for the most expensive options, buying clothes by the crate, and eating nothing but organic steak and vintage wine, she barely made a dent in the hundred million.
So she thought of something new: a luxury cruise and a few rounds of gambling.
Before leaving, she bought herself a tailored suit, booked a premium spa treatment for her blue-green hair, and replaced her nose ring with a platinum one.
Now she sparkled. Every movement screamed money.
But just as she was about to leave, her cruise ticket was unexpectedly canceled.
She raised her brows and reached for her phone—currently the latest and most expensive full-glass model, like a thin translucent brick.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Must be the masseur.
She had recently gotten into private massage services. Especially since her usual masseur was attractive and had a killer body.
Jiang Kou opened the door remotely via her tablet.
A stranger walked in.
Definitely not the masseur.
He wore a formal suit, tie, leather shoes, and a mechanical watch. Even viewed from above, his figure was tall and sharply proportioned—more flawless than any man she'd ever seen.
Then he looked up—like a high-speed, high-resolution surveillance camera locking onto her exact gaze.
The moment their eyes met, Jiang Kou felt her breath hitch. A strange ripple coursed through her chest.
…He looked exactly like her type.
Jiang Kou had been educated by the Company, and the Company had only one guiding principle: Social Darwinism.
Which meant she was biologically programmed to be drawn to evolutionarily superior looks.
From an evolutionary standpoint, symmetrical features, a strong jawline, a high nasal bridge, and a dominant presence often correlated with higher testosterone, superior immunity, better reproductive potential, and superior genetic quality.¹
The man before her ticked every box—and more. His calm expression showed no emotion, as if he had full control over everything around him.
She had met many powerful executives, but they were all skilled at hiding it. None had ever exuded raw dominance as clearly as this man.
If Social Darwinism had a pyramid, this man—on looks and aura alone—would be standing at the top.
She had a faint suspicion about his identity.
She picked up her phone, checking the timestamp of A's last message. It matched.
At the same time, the man spoke.
His voice was cold, calm, methodical—like it had been generated by a speech synthesizer. But it was smoother, more human.
If she hadn't already guessed who he was, she might not have realized.
"Hello," he said, walking toward her while scanning the room.
"I'm A.
Your recent lifestyle choices seem… less than healthy."