Chapter 24 - Five Percent

Chapter 24: Chapter 24 - Five Percent

The bell above the door jingled behind him, and Jesse stepped out onto Ditmars Boulevard into the afternoon sun.

He’d barely taken two steps toward the car when a familiar chime rang inside his head.

[Ding!]

[You spent $20,000 on Carrie Morton. 10X Critical Hit! Earned $200,000!]

[The $10,000 tip to Hector Alvarez does not qualify. The host does not find him attractive.]

Jesse snorted. ’Good to know.’

[Ding!]

[Harem Member Update: Carrie Morton]

[Affection: 5%]

Jesse stopped walking.

He read the line again. Five percent.

It wasn’t much. But it wasn’t zero, either. And zero was exactly what Natalia had for him after he’d thrown seventy thousand dollars at her.

He frowned and glanced back at the restaurant window. Through the glass, he could just make out Carrie standing beside the booth, still clutching the card machine like a life raft, while her friend with the braids clung to her arm.

’How?’ he asked. ’I’ve been messing with her this whole time. I called her Samantha. I made her do a Mary Poppins voice. I threatened to have her arrested. I literally called her ass fine and ordered her around like a servant. How does any of that make her like me?’

He thought about it for a moment longer.

The way she’d blushed when he told her to sit down. The way her breath had caught when he took her hand. The way she’d jumped to obey every single order, even the ridiculous ones, and how her eyes had gone all wide and glassy every time he lowered his voice.

A slow realization crept over him.

’Wait a minute,’ Jesse thought. ’Does she... like being dominated?’

[Yes.]

Jesse let out a short laugh.

He looked back at the window one more time. Carrie was gone from view now, probably hiding in the back somewhere, trying to figure out how to breathe.

A grin spread across his face.

"Oh," he said quietly. "I’m going to enjoy this."

He unlocked the Porsche and slid into the driver’s seat. The leather was warm from the sun.

He’d just pressed the ignition when the system chimed again.

[Ding!]

[Affection Multiplier Activated!]

[Carrie Morton’s current affection (5%) qualifies for an Affection Bonus. Base reward of $200,000 multiplied by 5.]

[Total earned from Carrie Morton: $1,000,000!]

Jesse’s hands froze on the steering wheel.

One million dollars.

He read it three times. Then he read it a fourth time, just in case.

Twenty-four hours ago, he had been lying in an alley, coughing up blood, with zero dollars to his name.

Now he’d just made a million dollars for buying lunch.

’Is that how it works?’ he asked. ’The more they like me, the more it multiplies?’

[Affection unlocks additional bonuses. The higher the affection, the greater the reward.]

Jesse leaned his head back against the headrest and stared at the roof of the car.

He thought about Natalia. Zero percent. Two gifts and she didn’t feel something for him. Oh well, he was going to try Natalia again tonight if she comes out to play.

He thought about Carrie. Five percent, and she’d made him a million dollars without even knowing it.

He was going to have to be smart about this. Very, very smart.

[Ding!]

[Affection Milestone Reached! You have unlocked 1 Lucky Draw!]

[Do you want to draw?]

[YES] [NO]

’Yes. Always yes. You don’t even need to ask.’

[Congratulations! You have drawn: Super Photographic Memory!]

[Super Photographic Memory: The host can store any information or detail with a single glance. Everything the host sees will be retained permanently. Existing memories will also become more vivid.]

Jesse blinked.

At first, he didn’t feel anything. Then something seemed to clear inside his head, like a window that had been fogged over his whole life had suddenly been wiped clean.

He decided to test it.

He thought about the text message Aunt Marie had sent him. He’d looked at it for maybe three seconds before her call came through, and he hadn’t tried to memorize it at all.

He closed his eyes.

The number appeared in his mind, sharp and clear, exactly as it had looked on his screen. The area code. Every digit. Even the tiny time stamp in the corner. 12:47 p.m.

He opened his eyes, pulled out his phone and checked the message.

Every digit matched.

Jesse let out a low whistle.

He tried something older. His mother’s kitchen, the summer before everything fell apart. He closed his eyes again, and there it was. The yellow curtains. The chipped blue mug she drank coffee from every morning. The smell of cinnamon toast. Her laugh echoed from the next room. He could even see the crack in the bottom corner of the window above the sink.

It was so vivid that for one second, his throat closed up.

He opened his eyes and breathed.

This skill was going to come in very handy. Contracts. Shipping manifests. Bank records. Names, faces, license plates. Every lie anyone ever told him, and every detail that didn’t add up.

Nobody would ever be able to slip anything past him again.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

[Credit Alert: $1,000,000.00]

He opened his banking app.

The balance stared back at him. Seven digits. $1.62M.

Jesse Byrne was a millionaire.

He sat there for a moment, letting it sink in. The kid who got his head shoved in a toilet. The basement dweller. The window shopper. The guy whose own girlfriend wouldn’t sleep with him.

A millionaire.

He smiled, then closed the banking app and opened his keypad. He didn’t need to look at Aunt Marie’s text again. He dialed Ben Pruitt’s number from memory, one digit at a time.

Then he put the phone to his ear, shifted the Porsche into drive and pulled out of the parking lot as it started to ring.