Chapter 26: Chapter 26
Ray grinned wide, that dangerous smile stretching even wider across his face. The blood that had been boiling from Julia calling him a "boring loser" had now turned into a hot wave rushing straight through his whole body.
Julia was still standing right in front of him, those shiny concert tickets in her small hands, her tiny waist and plump tits jiggling every time she laughed. Her tanned skin glowed under the cheap neon lights.
"OOIIII take it, Ray! Special freebie for the next-door neighbor who hears me getting railed every night till the walls shake," she said in that spoiled baby-girl voice, then patted his chest a few times. "You better come later! My baby’s music is gonna make you not so boring anymore. Or you scared you can’t handle the vibe?"
Ray took the ticket slowly. Their fingers touched longer than they needed to. His cock immediately throbbed inside his jeans the second he caught a whiff of her cheap perfume mixed with sweat.
’Fuck... so she was moaning on purpose so I could hear? That shitty couple?’
He was pissed realizing those horny moans blasting through the wall — like she was getting stuffed full with a huge dick till her pussy was soaking wet — were intentional.
But he pushed the irritation down for now. There was a more urgent plan today.
"Thanks, Julia. I’ll think about it," Ray replied flatly, but his sly grin didn’t go anywhere.
Julia laughed again. "Hmph, acting all cold! Just come, okay, or I’ll be mad!" She stuck her tongue out playfully, then turned and ran down the stairs with light steps. Her round, bouncy ass jiggled under that short skirt until she disappeared from view.
Once Julia was gone, Ray let out a long sigh. His whole vibe instantly shifted — cold and focused.
’Julia’s gone... now it’s time for Ray to work.’
He turned and walked into his rundown apartment with the peeling paint.
Inside, the dark and messy vibe hit him right away. A single bed already sunken in the middle, piles of dirty clothes everywhere, stacks of instant noodle plates in the sink, and a computer desk in the corner near the window overlooking the busy street.
Ray dropped straight into his cheap, dented gaming chair and hit the power button on his busted old PC. The fans kicked on loud with a whirring "whirrr... whirrr... whirrr..." that hurt his ears. The cheap monitor took almost two full minutes to slowly light up before the faded Windows desktop finally showed.
While he waited, Ray pulled out his cracked phone from the corner and opened it too. He fired up the browser on both the PC and the phone at the same time.
His mind was already packed with plans.
’Need money fast. That bitch Maya already fired my ass. But I ain’t staying broke forever. Online gambling sites... they’re all rigged from the jump. I even helped build one back when I was a dumb fresh graduate, but those fuckers screwed me over and didn’t pay me a single cent. Now it’s my turn to play.’
Ray started opening several online gambling sites that usually popped up in spam ads or pop-ups. Online slots, live casino, sports betting, poker platforms. He made new accounts on each one using burner emails he’d created ages ago for crypto airdrops that never really paid off.
For every account he deposited **$10**. The process took forever — filling forms, verifying email, transferring through e-wallet or whatever card still had a tiny bit of limit left, then waiting for confirmation.
He did it over and over for multiple accounts at once. Tab after tab kept opening. Time passed for over an hour. The money wasn’t much, but for this plan it was enough starting capital.
A while later, after all the accounts were ready with their $10 deposits and he was logged into every single one, Ray felt the moment had come.
He closed most of the tabs, sat up straight, eyes narrowed, and pressed his thumb on the floating transparent fingerprint button.
Right in front of his eyes the transparent Common Sense Altering System interface appeared — only he could see and access it.
Without wasting time he hit **Global Alter**.
Ray swiped his finger through the air and carefully typed the sentence he’d prepared:
[Definition of Common Sense:]
[In gambling, winning is a loss — making players lose benefits the site owner]
He pressed confirm.
[Ding!]
[Global Alter Activated — 00:10:00]
[-10 Alter Points]
Ray laughed quietly at first, then louder and louder. His smile stretched wide, teeth showing, eyes narrowing with pure evil excitement.
"Let’s go gambling!"
Ray leaned back in his busted gaming chair, that dangerous grin still plastered on his face. The transparent timer floating in the corner of his vision was counting down — 00:09:47 left on Global Alter. Ten minutes of fucked-up common sense spreading across the world like a virus.
He cracked his knuckles and went to work.
Multiple tabs open. PC on the left, cracked phone in his right hand. He started spinning on the slot sites — the ones that looked exactly like those bright, colorful kids games. Cartoon animals, spinning fruits, flashing candy explosions, happy jingle music every time the reels stopped. The kind of shit you’d see on a tablet in a kindergarten. But grown-ass adults were glued to their phones right now, tapping the screen over and over like brain-dead zombies, fully convinced that if they just kept pressing they were gonna get rich.
Ray hit spin.
Small win. Then another. Then a bigger one. The reels started lining up way too nicely. Because of the Global Alter, the whole system was tilted in his favor. Every near-miss felt like a promise. Every small payout kept the dopamine flowing — for everyone else. For Ray, the jackpots started dropping.
He switched between tabs fast, spinning on three different sites at once. Phone in one hand, mouse in the other. The cartoonish slots kept lighting up on his screens while somewhere out there, thousands of people were probably doing the exact same thing — tapping their phones in bed, on the toilet, at work — thinking "one more spin, one more spin, I’m so close."
Five minutes in, his balances were already stupid.
Hundreds turned into thousands. Then more. The numbers kept climbing on every account. Ray’s eyes narrowed, watching the totals roll in. He could feel it — the power was working exactly like he planned. People were chasing that variable reward like crack, and the house (plus him) was eating good.
He checked the floating timer again.
Still five minutes left.
Ray leaned back, stretched his neck, and decided it was enough.
Time to cash the fuck out.
He started hitting withdraw on every single account, one after another. E-wallets, bank transfers, crypto — whatever was connected. The money poured in fast. Big numbers lighting up his screens. Thousands. Then more. All that small $10 deposits turning into real fucking money in minutes.
"And now... I’m a rich boy haha."
