World Domination: My Rise To The Top

James made his way home after finishing up at Ralph's place, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

He didn't stick around to chat much with Ralph—there was no need. They talked often enough over the phone, and besides, James had a lot to think about.

And then there was Natasha.

James sighed as he walked down the quiet streets, the streetlights flickering above him, casting elongated shadows on the pavement. Natasha had always been an issue he didn't know how to handle.

Even without anyone telling him, he had known for years—since junior high, to be exact—that she liked him. The way she lingered when they spoke, the way her eyes held onto him just a little too long, the way she always found excuses to call or text him.

But James didn't have time for romance.

His mind wasn't wired for it. Right now, his life was about survival, about clawing his way out of the hole he was stuck in. A relationship? That required energy, patience, and a level of emotional investment he simply didn't have.

So, as much as he appreciated Natasha, he had always kept her at arm's length.

He reached home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep orange and indigo. The lights in the house were already on, meaning Patty was back from work.

James entered, shutting the door behind him. The familiar scent of home—a mix of old wood, fabric softener, and whatever Patty had cooked earlier—greeted him.

In the living room, Patty sat alone on the couch, a soft lamp casting a warm glow around her. She looked exhausted, her posture slightly slumped, her eyes shadowed with fatigue.

James walked over and kissed her cheek.

"How was work today?" he asked, giving her a gentle smile.

Patty looked up at him, her face lighting up at the sight of him, though James could still see the tiredness behind her eyes.

"Hey, sweetie. You're back from Ralph's place. How's he and his sister?" she asked, her voice warm but laced with that underlying exhaustion.

James forced a smile, pretending not to notice the worry etched into her features.

"Yeah, just got back. They're fine," he said. He hesitated for a second before adding, "I'll go take my shower and come back later. Let me know when dinner's ready."

Patty nodded, watching him with an unreadable expression as he headed to his room.

The moment he stepped inside, James locked the door and collapsed onto his bed, exhaling sharply.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled to the message Ralph had sent him, his eyes narrowing in focus.

Then, he clicked on the tutorial video.

This was it.

No turning back now.

James had finally decided to try Ralph's method.

He really wished he had a safer option, something less reckless. But with the way things were now—the house at risk, Patty losing her job, debt looming over him like a vulture—he didn't have time to be cautious.

Ralph's words echoed in his mind as he tapped the play button.

"You can't keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect different results. Learn to break the mold and understand how overrated being normal is."

James let out a breath, shaking his head. He had no other choice.

The video started playing, and James sat up, his focus sharpening. The strategy wasn't complicated. In fact, it was one of the oldest in the book.

Martingale.

The concept was simple—double the bet after every loss until you win.

James scrutinized every second of the tutorial, watching it multiple times, making sure he absorbed every detail. He wasn't going to screw this up.

After nearly an hour of studying, he finally felt ready.

With a deep breath, he opened the bookmaker's site, setting up his account. He went through the motions—signing up, verifying his details, linking his bank account. Every step felt heavier than it should, like he was walking into something that could either save him or ruin him.

Once everything was set, it was time to deposit money.

James hesitated for a second, his finger hovering over the confirmation button.

Then, he exhaled and tapped it.

A system notification immediately popped up in his retina.

[Ding!]

[You spent $600. 10x rebate has been applied. You have received $600. The money has been sent to your bank account.]

James let out a bitter chuckle.

Even now, the system reminded him of its rules. The money he had just spent was now useless to him—it couldn't be used for another rebate. Which meant every gamble he made from now on counted.

Shaking off his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the betting site.

It was time to begin.

James placed his first bet.

Loss.

He doubled the amount and placed another.

Loss.

Again.

Loss.

James swallowed, but he forced himself to stay calm. This was part of the strategy. Ralph had warned him about it. Losing a few rounds in the beginning was expected.

Then, finally—

Win.

James exhaled, his grip on his phone tightening.

He went again. Loss. Loss. Win.

The cycle repeated.

At first, it was slow, frustrating even. His balance fluctuated, constantly dipping lower before bouncing back. He was making progress, but it felt like trying to fill a leaking bucket.

Then, something changed.

James hit a winning streak.

The losses became less frequent, the wins stacking up. He found a rhythm, a pattern.

And before he knew it, two hours had passed.

A knock sounded at his door, snapping him out of his hyper-focused state.

James blinked, realizing for the first time that the sun had fully set. His phone screen glowed in the dim room, the numbers at the top catching his attention.

A message popped up.

Leslie: Dinner's ready. What the hell are you doing in there?

James smirked and sent back a quick reply.

James: Coming in a sec.

But his fingers hovered over the screen as his eyes zeroed in on his betting balance.

$1,110.

His jaw slackened slightly.

A profit of $510.

"Holy shit…" James muttered under his breath.

He had just made over five hundred dollars in two hours.

It didn't feel real.

His heart pounded as he withdrew everything. He wanted that money in his bank account before anything could go wrong.

A minute later, his phone vibrated with a bank alert.

His hands trembled slightly as he called up his info screen.

[Host Info Screen.]

[Name]: James Zolomon

[Age]: 21

[Stats]

>[Strength]: 9

>[Agility]: 8

>[Intelligence]: 8

>[Charisma]: 6

[Financial Status]

>[Account Balance: $1,054.67 ($8,112.67)]

>[Networth: -$12,528.89]

[System Resources]

>[Stat Point(s)]: 0

>[Lottery Ticket(s)]: 0

>[System Point(s)]: 0

[Mission(s): None]

[System Store]

…..

James stared at the screen, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths.

His account balance was now over $8,000.

His negative net worth had nearly been cut in half.

He let out a slow, shaky exhale before laughing—low at first, then growing louder. A laugh filled with relief, disbelief, and something else he hadn't felt in a long time.

Hope.

"Ralph, you sneaky bastard," he chuckled.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, James felt the weight on his shoulders lighten. The suffocating pressure, the hopelessness, the feeling of being trapped—it was all starting to fade.

And he wasn't done yet.

He could clear his debt tonight.

James locked his phone, stretched his arms, and stood up.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he had been running on nothing but adrenaline.

"Time for dinner," he muttered to himself, smiling as he headed for the door.