Writing here because many people do not read it when it's written on bottom.
Here's the extra chapter that I promised you guys yesterday.
.....
Three days have passed since Gotham City celebrated the eve of All Saints' Day with joy and good-natured noise. The guests had been impressed, and in the days that followed, they spoke enthusiastically about the festive evening to anyone who had missed it. Your humble servant also shared in the general joy, and, overall, I was quite pleased with the Halloween festivities.
If not for one but…
Closer to the end of the celebration, someone — with his mere appearance — shattered the idyll of the night, and it left me unsettled. For the past three days, I've been trying to organize my thoughts and build a logical chain in my head to explain it. I admit, it's been difficult.
So, let's think about this together — because I can't solve this alone.
Who was it? Or rather, who could it have been?
The man in the checkered shirt appeared out of nowhere, and — bypassing the barrier of my "Player's Mind" — sent words of approval directly into my consciousness. I was absolutely sure of it. He was smiling, yet he didn't speak a single word aloud. His lips never moved. And yet, I heard him. The voice rang crystal-clear in my head.
There was no doubt.
This immediately leads to the most important question: how could he overcome the impregnable barrier of my passive skill? I had always been convinced of its impenetrability. Even such a powerful force as Madness had failed to bypass it. More disturbingly, my intuition — which had never once let me down — was silent. Completely silent. It retreated into a corner of my subconscious, as if the matter didn't concern it in the slightest.
When I attempted to demand an explanation from it, my intuition bluntly ignored me.
After wandering through the corridors of my mind, I came to one conclusion: this figure — whoever or whatever he was — did not belong to this world. He wasn't a DC character. He wasn't a Marvel character. No… he was something else entirely. Something greater. Something inexplicable. Something far too vast to fit neatly within the ordered rules of this universe.
Perhaps, in fact, he was the one who set those rules.
Whoever he was, he was the most powerful being I had ever encountered. And I'm not the only one who thinks so — my sixth sense nodded in agreement. Yes… nodded. If my theory is correct, then it was by his will that I was placed into this entire "superhero skit." He may even have been the one responsible for my faulty player system and unnervingly sharp super-intuition.
If that's true, it would explain perfectly how he could so easily bypass my "Player's Mind" and silence my intuition like a disobedient child.
For now, I want to believe he isn't my enemy. Maybe not a patron… but certainly not an enemy. An observer, perhaps? I don't know. Time will reveal the answer.
I took a deep breath. For the moment, there was nothing I could do. I decided to return to my routine. The questions could wait — I was certain I'd get my answers when the time came.
Just as I was about to put an end to my musings, there was a knock at the door.
Two lovely women entered my office, their sheer beauty effortlessly dispersing the heavy atmosphere that had settled over me.
"Alex," Barbara said with concern. "Are you okay? You've been out of sorts since that night at Bruce's mansion. Did something happen?"
"You won't believe this," I replied, "but I still haven't figured it out myself."
"Should I be worried already?"
"Better not. Did you want something?"
The two businesswomen sat across from me, spreading out a stack of documents on the desk.
"Here's the report for the third day," Secretary Brooks said as she handed me the papers.
Wow. Things just kept getting better.
Our second game, Angry Birds, had successfully reached mobile users — a roaring success. On the first day, more than 5 million people downloaded it. On the second, that figure rose to 8 million. By the third day, downloads had crossed the 10 million mark.
In total, within the first three days of its release, Angry Birds had been downloaded by more than 23 million users. This was several times greater than the results of our first game, Subway Surfers. Our reputation was growing faster than we were.
"To be honest, I didn't expect the game to be received so enthusiastically," Miss Gordon admitted smugly. "But I still don't completely understand the secret of its huge success."
"Watch Hilary Young's video," I said. "She analyzed the reasons pretty accurately and showered the game's genius creator — that would be me — with praise. Listening to her is a pleasure. Not for nothing I'm subscribed to her channel."
"Do you like hearing other people praise you that much? Maybe tone down your self-importance a little," Barbara teased.
"Let me bask in the rays of glory for just a while. What's wrong with listening to compliments addressed to me?"
"Just make sure you don't lose yourself in other people's opinions."
"You don't have to worry about that. I always stay true to myself," I said, leaning back in my chair, hands behind my head.
Heather interrupted my comfort by sliding another folder under my arm.
"The financial report for last month," she said in answer to my unspoken question.
"It's quite heavy," I remarked, weighing it in my hands. "Maybe just give me a summary now, and I'll read through the papers later?"
"All right, then listen…"
From Heather's report, I learned that Alritex Entertainment had a total of $623 million sitting in its accounts. Last month, Subway Surfers had been downloaded by another 73 million users. Of those, 56 million purchased subscriptions, and in-game purchases amounted to about $15 million. In total, Subway Surfers brought in $43 million in net profit last month. And judging by its ever-growing popularity — with a total of 233 million downloads in three months — there was no reason to worry about stagnation.
The company had also received $30 million for the five bestselling novels I had published, which continued to storm the global literature charts. Another $25 million came from the album Mariage d'Amour.
But the largest profit came from one of the most useless things ever invented: the spinning fidget spinner. My design.
According to Wayne Enterprises' financial report, the spinner had generated $1.25 billion in just a single month. Since I owned a 50% share, I was entitled to about $625 million. However, having previously taken a $100 million advance from Bruce, I received "only" $525 million.
Add it all together, and you get the $623 million total Heather mentioned. Plus, an additional $38 million in my personal accounts meant my total disposable funds sat at roughly $661 million.
Impressive? Yes.
But compared to how much I'd need to spend in order to follow through with my long-term plans, it was just a drop in the ocean.
Life is pain.
The thought of parting with a large sum again in the near future made me shudder. And all that money had been earned through backbreaking labor…
Enough grieving. Money comes and goes — only people, and yourself, remain. Money means nothing if you don't know how to use it wisely.
In my case, I must turn it into power. In this world, it doesn't matter how much money you have — if you don't have the strength and intelligence to protect it, then it's better not to even start earning it in the first place. Especially not in such large amounts.
.
.
.
Thank you all for reading, keep supporting.
You all can read 40 extra chapters on [email protected]/annihilator009
Replace @ with a.