Frank leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the glowing numbers on his banking interface. His fingers hovered over the screen as the realization settled in. A five-figure deposit. More money than he had ever seen land in his personal account at once, and all of it earned through Underworld Online. The weight of it pressed down on him—not in fear, but in understanding. This wasn't just gaming. This was real.
He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly. His grind, his strategy, his absolute refusal to fall behind—it had all paid off. The number on the screen wasn't just cash; it was proof. Proof that he could break free from the financial struggles that had suffocated his family. Proof that he could carve out a future on his own terms.
A notification popped up, drawing his attention.
[Transaction Successful: $10,000 transferred to your bank account.]
It was done. He had repaid his father's loan, in full, weeks ahead of schedule.
The thought sent a thrill through him. He had done it. Not through begging, not through some soul-crushing job, but through skill and ambition. He had taken a gamble, and it had paid off in a way no one could have expected.
His hand hovered over his phone before he finally dialed.
The line rang twice before a familiar gruff voice answered. "Frank?"
Frank leaned back, a smirk playing at his lips. "Check your account, Dad."
Silence. Then a muttered curse. "What the hell is this?"
"My promise," Frank said simply. "Paid in full."
Another long pause. Then, softer, his father spoke again. "Hmph. You actually did it."
Frank's smirk widened. "And this is just the beginning."
Strategic Investments
Sitting at his desk, Frank pulled up his in-game merchant records. The payout wasn't just about personal success—The Chosen was growing, and guild stability meant survival. If he wanted to stay independent, he needed resources, and resources cost money.
He tapped through his financial logs, checking the guild's war chest balance. It was strong, but it needed to be stronger. If Monolith was hoarding wealth and using it to dominate, then The Chosen needed to do the same—without falling into the same trap of greed and corruption.
A message pinged.
[Elias: Boss, secured bulk healing potions at a discount. Need funds to finalize the trade.]
Frank typed back instantly. [Approved. Pick up extras—Monolith's been locking down supply routes.]
His eyes flicked to another request—bulk ores for weapon crafting. With The Chosen's blacksmiths running through materials at a rapid pace, they needed steady access to high-tier metals. Frank approved the purchase without hesitation.
Money flowed in and out, an endless cycle. He couldn't let the guild rely on dungeon drops and casual trading. He needed steady revenue streams, controlled directly by The Chosen. Monolith had a corporate powerhouse backing them. The Chosen would build their own empire—one trade deal at a time.
His next move? Securing exclusive supply chains before Monolith shut them all down.
A Visit Home
It had been weeks since Frank last stepped outside for anything beyond essentials. But today was different. He needed to see them—needed them to understand that this wasn't just some reckless obsession.
His family home stood unchanged, the sturdy brick house still holding the memories of his childhood. As he stepped up to the front door, a familiar weight settled in his chest. His father answered, arms crossed, eyes scanning him carefully.
"So you're actually here."
Frank smirked. "Figured I should see where my money went."
Inside, his mother fussed over him immediately, pulling him into a hug. He let her. He let her ask a hundred questions, let her search his face for signs of exhaustion. He answered what he could, careful to avoid the darker truths of the game's growing conflicts.
Mellie, his younger sister, sat on the couch, watching him like he was a puzzle she couldn't quite solve. "So, you're really making money playing a game?"
Frank shrugged. "Not just playing. Winning."
She snorted, unimpressed. "And how long before that bubble bursts?"
Frank met her gaze evenly. "Not this time."
His father cleared his throat. "So what's next?"
Frank leaned forward, his mind already shifting back to strategy. "Now? I build an empire."
His mother rolled her eyes. His father gave him that look—the one that said Prove it. Mellie? She just watched, waiting to see if he'd follow through.
And then Frank did something he hadn't planned on.
He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a printed financial statement. "Dad," he said, pushing it across the table, "I need your help."
His father frowned, picking up the paper. His eyes scanned the numbers—the in-game transactions, the growing revenue streams, the sheer scale of what Frank had built. His expression didn't change, but Frank could see the shift in his posture. He wasn't dismissing this. He was analyzing it.
"You're asking me to manage this?"
Frank nodded. "I know how to make the money, but I need someone to help me manage it right.
Dad, you own and run a successful accounting firm, you can help me. Monolith's backed by a corporation, Dad. They've got financial experts ensuring every decision is profitable. If The Chosen is going to compete, I need the same."
His father was silent for a long time. Then, slowly, he set the paper down. "You're serious about this."
"As serious as I've ever been."
His father exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but... alright." He pointed a finger at Frank. "But you don't make a single big transaction without clearing it with me first. Understood?"
Frank smirked. "Understood."
Mellie groaned, throwing her hands up. "Oh great, now he's got Dad involved. He's really gonna take over the world now."
Their mother laughed, shaking her head. "At least he's keeping it in the family."
Frank leaned back in his chair, a grin playing on his lips. His first real-world payday had changed everything. He wasn't just playing a game. He was building something. And now? Now he had an accountant.
The empire of The Chosen had just gained its first real-world asset.