MMORPG: Birth of the World's Luckiest Player

Chapter 503: Titanium Card

Finally, it was his. Marcus could barely keep still, excitement buzzing through him so hard it felt like it might crack through his skin. But this wasn’t the time to inspect it. The green quartz bead sat in his pocket like a burning coal, and every second he wasn’t looking at it gnawed at him.

He checked the time and his stomach dropped. Nearly two hours had passed. His appointment with Mr. Zahir was coming up fast, and at this rate, he’d be late. No choice. He had to move.

After talking with the old man for a few more minutes, Marcus excused himself and left. He swung himself onto his Steel-Horse and sped off toward the central bank headquarters, the engine roaring beneath him as he cut through the streets.

Watching Marcus disappear into the distance, Larry frowned and turned to his grandfather. "Grandpa... who exactly was that guy? You treated him like he was some kind of big shot."

In all his years growing up around the old man, Larry had never once seen him show that level of respect to anyone.

"That young man..." the old man murmured, his gaze lingering on Marcus’s retreating figure before shifting back to Larry. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his grandson’s face. Then his expression changed.

In that brief span of time, Larry’s features had subtly shifted. It was the kind of change most people would never notice, but to someone skilled in reading faces, it was obvious. The dead ends woven into Larry’s fate had begun to loosen, as if invisible walls were cracking apart.

Years ago, the old man had foreseen two great calamities waiting for Larry around the age of twenty-five, disasters so severe he had never found a way around them no matter how hard he searched. It had weighed on him ever since.

But now, after only one meeting with Marcus, the heavy shadows hanging over Larry’s future had started to thin. The signs of misfortune were weakening. His lifeline was opening.

And the one who had caused that change was Marcus, the young man bearing the Fated Sign.

So it was real after all. The Fated Sign truly could influence fate itself.

"Larry," the old man asked after a moment, his voice quieter now, "you got along with him pretty well, didn’t you?"

Larry blinked, not catching the deeper meaning behind the question. "Yeah, I guess. Marcus is easy to talk to. Didn’t feel awkward at all. Feels like we clicked fast." He rubbed his chin, thinking. "And I don’t know... there’s something about him. Feels like he’s hiding more than he lets on."

The old man laughed, deep and satisfied. "Good. Very good. Stay close to him."

The words stopped there. Some things couldn’t be spoken aloud. The old rules were absolute. Fate was not something you explained carelessly. Once spoken, it could twist, bend, or collapse entirely. Otherwise, he would have told Larry everything right then.

But he had already seen enough. Their paths would cross again. There was no need to force it.

Larry, sharp as ever, caught the strange weight behind those words. "Grandpa... what’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m going to run into Marcus again?"

The old man only smiled and patted him on the shoulder, saying nothing.

But in his mind, the old saying echoed clearly. The Fated Sign moves the currents of destiny. Those who walk beside it prosper. Those who stand against it are swept away.

By the time Marcus arrived at the bank, he was already cursing under his breath. ’Damn it, I’m late.’

He hurried up to the office and knocked. A few seconds later, the door swung open.

Mr. Zahir stood there with an almost overly welcoming smile. "Mr. Marcus, please, come in."

Marcus gave an apologetic smile as he stepped inside. "Sorry. Got delayed."

"Not a problem at all." Mr. Zahir stepped aside quickly. "Please, sit."

The way the man treated him was almost excessive. He personally poured Marcus tea, moving with the care of someone hosting a high-ranking official rather than a young man in his twenties.

Marcus had to admit it. Kingston and Silas had absurd reach. He’d expected influence, sure, but not this kind.

They got straight to business. Before Marcus could even bring up why he was there, Mr. Zahir spoke first.

"Mr. Marcus, according to the orders I received from headquarters, I am to establish a top-tier account for you. A Titanium Card."

Marcus paused. ’A Titanium Card?’ That name didn’t ring any bells.

Before coming here, he’d looked into the bank’s account tiers. As far as public knowledge went, Diamond-level V&P was the highest ordinary account available. There had been no mention of anything above that.

Seeing the confusion on his face, Mr. Zahir immediately explained. "The Titanium Card is not part of the public system. It’s a classified banking tier reserved for senior government officials, intelligence personnel, and a very small number of special individuals. Normally, only the central headquarters can issue one directly. Branches like ours can only submit applications and wait for approval."

Marcus frowned. "So that means I have to wait?"

Mr. Zahir quickly shook his head. "Not in your case. Headquarters already sent over the authorization code. My instructions were clear. The moment you arrived, I was to process it immediately."

Marcus felt a surge of relief and excitement. That meant this wasn’t just some high-level account. It was something much bigger.

Mr. Zahir opened his laptop and began entering data. "The process is simple. Once I input the authorization code, the system generates a unique sequence number and a virtual identity. After that, we bind it to your legal name, fingerprints, and DNA profile. From then on, every transaction you make uses only the sequence number and virtual identity. Your actual identity remains sealed within headquarters."

Marcus leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Meaning no one can trace it back to me?"

"Correct." Mr. Zahir nodded. "That’s the core purpose of the Titanium Card. It routes through a protected channel linked directly to headquarters, bypassing standard bank visibility. Even if someone somehow accessed the account records, all they would see is the sequence number and virtual identity. Your personal details never appear."

Marcus almost laughed. This was insane. Kingston and Silas had gone far beyond what he’d expected. This wasn’t just convenience. This was protection at the highest level, the kind of system built for presidents, intelligence officers, and people who operated in shadows. And now it was his.

What Marcus didn’t realize was that Mr. Zahir was just as shaken. While he worked, he kept glancing at the young man across from him, unable to hide his curiosity. Who exactly was this kid?

The Titanium Card program had existed for over eighty years, and in all that time, fewer than two thousand had ever been issued worldwide. Every holder was someone whose name carried weight in governments, industries, or places far beyond public sight.

And this was the first time in Mr. Zahir’s career he had ever been entrusted to process one himself.

Marcus smiled, unable to hide it anymore. "Then let’s do it." His eyes locked onto the screen. "I want the Titanium Card."