Chapter 41: The Tycoon's Way
Ethan's presence didn't go unnoticed.
The prisoners saw him.
But they didn't care.
It wasn't rare for someone to end up in this wretched place. A new arrival wasn't worth their attention. They had bigger concerns—like figuring out whether today was the day they'd finally end it all.
"Why are they here? Are they bad people? If they are, why is the Tower asking me to give them purpose again?"
[The concept of good and bad is subjective, Host. They may be considered bad by others, but to you, they might be good. Save whoever you deem worthy.]
"So it's up to me, huh? Guess I have to talk to them."
He approached a cell where an old man sat motionless, eyes staring blankly at the cold floor.
"Uh, hey old man. You seem lonely. Care to talk?" Ethan asked, his tone unsure. He wasn't exactly experienced in dealing with suicidal people.
The old man lifted his gaze, held Ethan's stare for a second—then looked away.
Ethan's lips twitched. "…Seriously?"
He exhaled. "Look, I'm not here to waste time. Just talk to me. I can help you."
Nothing.
For thirty damn minutes, Ethan coaxed, reasoned, tried every approach—
Not even a glance.
Ethan clenched his jaw and moved on.
"Fucking stubborn old man. What's his problem?"
He went from cell to cell.
A hundred prisoners.
A hundred empty stares.
Not. A single. Response.
Checking the system timer—twenty minutes left.
Ethan sank onto the cold stone floor, rubbing his temples. His head pounded with frustration.
"This is bullshit. Why won't they talk to me?"
Failure wasn't an option. If he failed, he'd have to wait two months before retaking the trial. And next time? The difficulty would increase. The rewards would decrease.
The Tower didn't tolerate failure. Other challengers actually died in their trials.
Ethan exhaled, trying to clear his mind.
"Think, Ethan. Think. How can someone worshipped by gods fail a damn trial? That'd be too embarrassing."
The problem was simple.
He needed to talk to them. Learn their stories. See if they were worth saving.
But they wouldn't talk.
Because they didn't care. They had lost the will to live.
"What do suicidal people want?"
Salvation.
But how do you give salvation? Killing them? Not an option in this trial.
Ethan's mind raced.
"System, what if I wish for a skill that lets me see if a person is good or bad based on my own moral compass?"
[It's possible.]
"What's the price?"
[To see into a person's true nature… you will lose your eyesight.]
…What?
Come the fuck again?
[It's an equivalent exchange, Host. You may proceed, or you may find another way.]
[You have 10 minutes left.]
[And if you accept, you will permanently lose your sight. No wish can restore it.]
Ethan froze. 10 minutes before failure? No fucking way.
But losing his sight?
Never seeing beautiful women again?
Never seeing his wives, Esmeray, Anita again?
Never seeing his family again?
No. Fucking. Way.
[You will be able to see in a different way when you awaken your Intent.]
"And how long will that take? Years? Don't fuck with me."
[There exist skills that can assist you in the meantime. It is not as hopeless as you make it seem, Host.]
Ethan ignored the system. His time was running out.
He exhaled. Closed his eyes.
He thought back to when he first entered the Tower—so cocky, so sure.
Promising himself he'd clear every trial.
Yet here he was, struggling. Almost losing.
But Ethan doesn't fail.
Ethan doesn't lose.
He clenched his fists.
He had power.
He had money.
He had authority.
So why was he acting like a beggar, trying to convince these people to talk?
These prisoners had given up. They saw no future. No light.
…Then I'll just fucking create one.
His lips curled into a smirk. "Oh. I get it now."
He laughed—loud, unrestrained.
The prisoners barely reacted, but something in his aura shifted.
"You don't care about talking?" He reached into his inventory. "Fine. Let's do it another way."
And then—
He made it rain.
He stormed toward a cell with six prisoners.
All women.
— One dark elf.
— Three humans.
— One cat girl.
— And one who was more shadow than human.
Ethan stared at them. Dirty. Unkempt. Forgotten.
He crouched and opened his inventory.
Ethan smirked.
"Lose my sight? Bullshit."
He had been thinking too small.
He had forgotten just how rich he was.
He poured out a fraction of his wealth.
And that fraction was—
A mountain of treasures.
— SS-rank skill books.
— Exquisite food with divine aromas.
— S-grade and above potions.
— High-quality armor and weapons.
— Games, entertainment, luxuries beyond imagination.
— Piles of platinum coins.
— The blood of legendary beasts.
And here was the real kicker.
His Gift of Benevolence ensured that whatever he gave, he could copy and keep.
And his system ensured that everything he gave, he got back 10,000x in value.
So why had he been suffering all this time?
He had money.
He could buy everything.
He could have everything.
The six women stirred.
Their dead eyes widened in disbelief.
A dark-skinned human woman whispered, "What…?"
Ethan grinned.
"Ladies, this is all for you." He gestured to the absurd wealth. "So you can enjoy your stay here a little better."
He flashed a megawatt tycoon smile.
"Take whatever you need—no, fuck that. Take everything."
He pointed at the games. "Bored? I got games."
He pointed at the skill books. "Want power? Take a skill."
He pointed at the money. "Need cash? Even if you can't spend it—take it anyway. You never know."
"In short—take everything."
Then, for the first time—
Ethan unleashed his Sacred Devotion Aura at full power.
The results were instant.
Their dead eyes widened in disbelief.
And now—they reacted.
Each one differently.
The dark elf, with piercing blue eyes, narrowed them in suspicion. She crossed her arms. "There's no way this is free. What's the catch?"
One human woman, dark-skinned and gaunt, hesitated. Hope flickered in her gaze, but she was afraid to believe in it. Afraid to have hope being crushed again.
Another human woman, with dirty blonde hair, didn't hesitate at all. She fell to her knees, trembling, fingers tracing the surface of a gaming console"This… I had one similar to this when I was little." Her voice shook as if touching a lost piece of her past.
The cat girl ignored everything—until she saw the food. Especially the fish. She froze. Then, she broke down crying while stuffing her face.
The shadow woman said nothing. But she moved first, gathering items with silent efficiency. She took everything without hesitation, her flickering body stabilizing with each item she touched.
Ethan watched them with satisfaction.
"There is no catch. All of this is for you."
He turned to the dark elf.
"You have nothing to lose anyway. Look at your cellmates."
She hesitated, but indeed she had nothing to lose. She reached for an ancient tome. The moment she opened it, her expression changed.
Her fingers trembled. "This… This book explains the working of mana and its relation to the soul. This is… legendary knowledge."
She looked up at Ethan.
And saw something she hadn't seen in years.
A look of kindness.
The women broke down.
They sobbed, their voices cracking as they touched the treasures—as if afraid they would disappear.
"Thank you… thank you…"
The Tower chimed.
{Your time is up.}
{Congratulations, you have completed the third trial.}
{For clearing it in a way the Tower didn't expect, you have received additional rewards.}
{You have received the innate trait: [Eye of Judgment]}
{You have received a new title: The Absolute Tycoon.}
{Your soul is strengthened.}
{Your presence is strengthened.}
{Your existence is starting to have weight.}
{Original rewards have been transferred to your inventory.}
{Transporting to Rest Zone.}
As Ethan's figure faded, the women watched him with reverence.
The dark elf took a step forward. "Please, sir… your name?"
Ethan smiled, his aura shining like a god's blessing.
All the other prisoners, who had ignored him, now regretted everything.
"Ethan Yagami."
—End of Chapter 41—
A/N:
Support with Power Stones please !
Thank you for reading.