Chapter 239: Chapter 239 Fun, Finance & Fuckery

The soft hum of the cab echoed through the quiet neighborhood as it pulled up in front of Dickson’s house. Liam exhaled slowly, his mind still processing everything from the night before. After leaving Lilith’s place, he had returned home, bathed under scalding water, and dressed himself properly.

As he stepped out and shut the door behind him, he noticed the subtle, almost shocking changes to Dickson’s place. The fence had been upgraded—clean metal frames, sturdier structure, even a new gate that looked nothing like the rusted mess it had been before. The yard had been trimmed too, and the house… it wasn’t huge, but it had definitely received a facelift. Fresh coat of paint, a new porch light, possibly even reinforced windows.

Liam raised an eyebrow, his boots crunching on the gravel as he walked up to the gate.

“Dickson, huh…” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

His gaze shifted to the driveway, and sure enough, Dickson’s car was parked neatly to the side. Everything about this screamed “someone started getting their act together.” For a moment, Liam smirked. Maybe his influence was finally starting to rub off.

Then it hit him.

“Wait…”

A flash of memory returned—weeks ago, before everything spiraled into chaos, he’d told the system to generate wealth for him. Passive, efficient, endless wealth. Back then, he hadn’t paid it much attention. Just a side project. Something he set and forgot.

“System,” Liam muttered.

A soft chime echoed in his mind, and a sleek, neon-blue interface materialized in front of his eyes. It hovered cleanly in his field of vision like augmented reality.

> Current Account Balance: $56,073,100.00

Source: Combined auto-income generation protocols.

(Trading | Crypto | YouTube Content | NFTs | Affiliate Networks | Real Estate AI Holdings)

Liam froze mid-step.

His boot hovered just above the concrete as he stared at the number again.

“Fifty… Five… Fifty-six million?”

He blinked, then blinked again.

“Fifty-six fucking million!?”

He staggered slightly, reaching out to the fence for support. It was too ridiculous. Too absurd. He hadn’t done anything—not a trade, not a post, not a thought. And here he was, standing outside Dickson’s house with more money than some CEOs made in a decade.

> System Analysis:

[AI-Driven Trading (40% ROI, 7 days a week)]

[Crypto Arbitrage Network (Global operations, 24/7)]

[YouTube Automation: 12 Channels. Content generated by AI. Monetized with ads and sponsorships. Viral content themes range from mystery storytelling to gaming highlights.]

[NFT Flip Engine: Autonomous identification and flipping of undervalued NFTs. Daily gains exceeding $400K during high traffic windows.]

[Affiliate Engines: AI-generated blogs and viral marketing articles spread across 38 niche websites. High CPC keywords optimized by the minute.]

[Real Estate AI Holdings: Invests in tokenized real estate, short-term flipping of digital properties and long-term passive yield.]

[Private Lending Protocols: Fully automated microloan service in high-interest regions, recovering 98.7% of loans with daily compound returns.]

[E-Commerce Stores: Drop-shipping businesses managed by AIs using predictive trend algorithms.]

[Stock Market Options: Risk-mitigated options trading with real-time volatility hedging.]

[Social Influence Bots: AI-created influencer profiles across TikTok and Instagram with real followers and passive brand deals.]

Liam just stood there, mouth slightly parted, breath slow, as if trying to ground himself in reality.

“Damn…”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief.

From broke to fifty-six million in less than a month…

The system hadn’t just made money. It built an empire in the background while he’d been out bleeding, fighting, kissing death and power. And all of it… automated. Self-sustaining.

He exhaled again and ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back as the wind brushed gently against his cheek.

Then a grin split across his face. Wide. Reckless. Confident.

“Have I ever told you I love you?” he said out loud, not really expecting a response. His voice rang with amusement and gratitude.

The system stayed silent, as expected.

But Liam didn’t care. Not one bit.

He laughed to himself and resumed walking up to the front door.

What the hell kind of man was his father to have built something like this? The architecture, the depth—it wasn’t just some super AI. It was a fucking multi-tentacled machine capable of conquering the digital economy silently.

He’d deal with that mystery later. Today, he was here for Dickson.

Liam stepped onto the porch, lifted his hand, and knocked—three light raps.

He already knew who’d answer. His gaze lowered instinctively.

And just as expected, the door cracked open a moment later and a small face peeked out. Her curly hair bounced around her cheeks, and her wide brown eyes lit up the instant they landed on him.

“Big bro!” she squealed.

She pushed the door wider, practically beaming.

Liam smiled and reached out to ruffle her hair gently. “Brat,” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

The girl puffed her cheeks and stuck her tongue out. “I called in sick!”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, one brow rising. “You don’t look sick to me.”

The little girl glanced up at him, her lips twitching into a grin before she winked and skipped away inside.

Liam sighed and stepped into the house, closing the door behind him.

Everything inside looked familiar, but there were small upgrades here too—cleaner floors, polished furniture.

But something still made him frown.

That little girl… she was picking up on Dickson’s bad habits. The smirk, the sarcasm, the cheeky confidence—it was written all over her face.

“Damn it,” Liam muttered to himself. “This is exactly what I was afraid of…”

He took another step deeper into the house.

The door creaked open slowly as Liam pushed it without hesitation, stepping into Dickson’s room like he owned the place. He didn’t even bother knocking.

But what he saw stopped him cold.

Dickson wasn’t on his bed scrolling through trashy memes or watching weird YouTube videos. No snacks scattered across the desk. No music blasting from his speakers. No empty bottles of soda or loud laughter. Instead, he was seated upright behind his desk, hunched slightly forward, eyes narrowed in focus as multiple monitors lit up his face.

Charts danced across the screen—candlestick patterns, RSI indicators, moving averages. It was all there.

And Dickson… was studying.

Not only studying, the bastard had a pen in his hand and a notebook open beside him. He was writing something down. Actually taking notes.

Liam blinked. Then blinked again.

“Okay… what the actual hell…” he murmured under his breath.

He didn’t even notice that the door was still hanging wide open behind him, letting the hallway light spill into the room. He just stared, frozen in surprise, like he’d walked into an alternate timeline.

When he had first shown Dickson the basics of trading—half-expecting him to lose interest after ten minutes—he had never imagined this. Dickson was the definition of chaotic energy. Lazy genius. Always had potential, never gave a damn. Yet here he was, nose-deep in market analysis like a Wall Street shark.

Liam cleared his throat lightly and raised an eyebrow.

“So…” he said, voice dry. “How the hell did you go from watching Flora Jenson to staring at trading signals like you’re the next Warren Buffet?”

Dickson didn’t even flinch at first. He calmly finished writing something before he slowly turned around in his chair.

His eyes looked a little tired, slightly puffy, like he hadn’t been sleeping properly. But the smirk on his lips was as sharp as ever.

“Since I wanna buy my family a house,” he replied without missing a beat.

Liam let out a short, stunned laugh. He couldn’t even hold it in.

“Wait—what? When the fuck did you become ambitious and responsible?”

Dickson’s eyes glinted as he leaned back in his chair, arms folding behind his head.

“With great power comes great responsibilities,” he said with mock-seriousness. “And money… is power.”

That made Liam roll his eyes. “You spray too much bullshit.”

He kicked Dickson’s shin lightly, making the guy flinch and curse under his breath.

Dickson rubbed his leg and chuckled. “Still hurt, bastard.”

Liam just shook his head again. The whole scene felt surreal. He’d expected to barge in and find the usual immature chaos. Instead, he’d found a quiet storm—a more focused Dickson who seemed to actually give a damn about something.

Maybe Liam’s system-enhanced success had motivated him. Or maybe his little sister’s growing behavior reminded him that he had someone looking up to him now. Either way, Liam wasn’t complaining.

Dickson tilted his head. “So why are you here, man? Thought you were resting at home. Maybe rolling around with Lilith or something.”

Liam scoffed. “Nah. I just came out to have fun.”

That sentence hung in the air for a full two seconds.

Dickson’s entire body froze like someone had hit the pause button. His eyes lit up as if he had seen an alien.

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