Chapter 18
Only forty thousand dollars remained before he could finalize the mission. Solomon slipped his hands into his pockets, his mind racing. It had been a stroke of luck—or perhaps fate—that he'd run into that student and his girlfriend. Through them, he had managed to move a significant sum, but it wasn't enough. He needed one final, massive push to satisfy the system's demands.
As he stood there, trying to clear his head, his attention drifted toward a group of students playing volleyball on a distant court. Every student had goals, desires, and needs—most of which required money they didn't have. A random thought took root in his mind, and an idea began to take shape.
What if he showed every student here that he could provide exactly what they wanted? Simple and direct. It was the perfect way to burn through the remaining quota.
His mind clicked into place. The plan was set. Solomon's lips curled into a confident smile. He had already made his choice, and there was no turning back now. He was going to spend money on every single student in the school and reap the rewards through the system.
Clutching his backpack, Solomon stepped into the main building. He had a specific destination in mind: the electronics shop. He needed a speaker—something loud enough to command the attention of the entire campus. His plan was to announce to the school that he would buy them anything their hearts desired.
"Announcement!"
The voice, calm as an ocean breeze yet amplified to a roar, swept through the school grounds, echoing within the walls and across the courtyards. Every student froze, whispering and straining to hear the unexpected broadcast.
"The school has announced a special grant today. We will be purchasing items for all students. You are promised gifts of any price you desire. Please assemble at the city mall to receive your items. Let the school provide whatever you wish."
"Free stuff?"
A girl with a pristine uniform looked up, wondering if she had heard correctly.
"Will we really get anything we want? Even expensive things?" she asked her friend.
"I've always wanted that designer bag," another student murmured, eyes wide.
"My girlfriend has been dying for a new dress I couldn't afford," a boy added, his voice rising with excitement
.
The news spread like wildfire. Anticipation rippled through the crowd as students began to stir, energized by the promise. Only the wealthiest kids remained composed, watching the sudden frenzy with detached curiosity. The school authorities, however, were paralyzed. Sitting at their desks, the faculty looked around in utter shock.
"When did we authorize this?" they whispered urgently to one another.
Meanwhile, the principal was practically sprinting to put a stop to the chaos. He hadn't approved a single cent of spending, and he certainly didn't have the budget to cover such a reckless promise. Who knows what these teenagers dream of? he thought frantically. Who knows how much those wishes will cost?
Solomon, dusting off his pants, knew his part in the setup was done. Calm and composed, he walked with an elegant, slow gait toward the city mall where he knew the students would soon converge.
When he arrived, he stood by the entrance with his hands in his pockets. The mall staff greeted him immediately. "Good day, sir.
How can we help you? What are you looking for today?"
Solomon walked up to the head shopkeeper and spoke firmly. "I am going to pay $220,000 in advance for the shopping these students are about to do. Record the amount each student spends and return any remaining change to me when they're finished."
The shopkeeper stared at Solomon, his eyes bulging in disbelief.
"Are you insane?" he snapped. "Get out of here. This isn't a joke. If you're trying to pull a prank, take it to the playground. This is a place of business."
Solomon just smiled, unfazed. He was well-acquainted with this kind of reaction by now. He turned away, scanning the store until he spotted another employee standing nearby.
He called out, "Excuse me, are you capable of following instructions?"
The employee offered a polite, professional smile. "Yes, sir. I am."
Solomon walked away with the second worker, laying out the full arrangement in detail. Meanwhile, the original shopkeeper sat down, clenching his fists and staring at Solomon's retreating back. Regret began to cloud his expression; he realized too late that he had just chased away a massive commission.
By the time Solomon finished briefing the worker, the first wave of students began pouring into the mall. The building buzzed with frantic energy as kids stared wide-eyed at the luxury items surrounding them. Some had even called their mothers to join.
"I can't believe the principal is being this generous," someone shouted over the din.
"He's actually letting us shop in a place like this!"
The poorer students, especially those from Class D, spoke with a mix of awe and profound gratitude. Even the wealthier students joined in, swept up in the excitement of picking out whatever caught their eye.
Seeing that the plan was in motion and the students were occupied, Solomon quietly excused himself from the crowd. He slipped behind a tall display shelf, hands in his pockets, and waited. He was waiting for one thing only: the system's voice announcing the mission was complete.
He was confident. The logic was sound, and the spending was happening in real-time.
Solomon folded his arms and leaned his back against the wall, closing his eyes as he waited for that singular moment of success.
Suddenly, a flurry of papers rained down on him, followed by a loud, splintering crash.
The bookshelf he was leaning on gave way, collapsing instantly, and someone tumbled through the wreckage, falling directly on top of him.
He groaned, trying to shake off the shock and gather his senses. As he adjusted his position, his eyes locked onto a face—one that was familiar, yet obscured. It was the student who always hid behind thick glasses and an oversized, baggy hoodie. For a brief second, the hood slipped, revealing a stray strand of striking white hair.
His mind barely had time to process her identity when a group of students approached—the school's most notorious bullies. From their perspective, Solomon was pinning the girl to the floor. To them, it looked like he was harassing her.
Solomon immediately stood up and stepped away, not even bothering to help the girl up. He stood his ground as the group closed in, their expressions twisted with malice.
One of them looked at the girl, then sneered at Solomon. "Oh, look who it is. Solos is here, too."
Solomon remained silent, refusing to even acknowledge the taunt.
"The school gave everyone permission to get free stuff," another bully said, stepping forward. "So what gives you the right to be back here? Especially with this little slut? You've got some nerve."
Solomon didn't react. He simply stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring through them. He gave them nothing—not a word, not a flinch, not even a glance.
His silence only served to infuriate them further.
"How dare you ignore us when we're talking to you!" one shouted, jabbing a finger toward his chest.
But Solomon stayed perfectly still, unmoved and completely uninterested in their provocation.
"You're going to pay for that attitude!"