Chapter 5 Expressing the vision

With a tepid cup of instant coffee at his feet and his eyes focused on the lines of code running down his laptop screen, John sat cross-legged on his apartment's threadbare carpet. Except for the screen's faint blue glow and the sporadic flicker of the city lights outside his window, the room was dark.

Overnight, the program transformed his meager $20 into $21.05, achieving an unimaginable feat.

It may not seem like much, but to a guy who had just been at the bottom, it was like touching the moon.

Officially, the *Billionaire's Club* had arrived.

He remained there a little longer, allowing the thought to sink in. The system was not a joke, a hoax, or a desperate digital illusion. It was authentic. Real enough to alter everything, maybe.

He was still perplexed by its design, however.

It seemed like a game because of the ironic remarks, odd "popularity" mechanisms, and tiered unlocks. A simulation with huge stakes. He was the player, too. However, who was observing?

More significantly, who constructed it?

Hovering above the keyboard were his fingers. For the last two days, a notion had been developing, nagging him in the back of his mind like a whisper. Perhaps he should not keep this software to himself if it was his way to the top.

Who could he trust, though?

The response was instantaneous: nobody.

He had already been robbed by Mark.

When he most needed Sarah, she had abandoned him.

However, it is possible that someone had not yet burnt him.

---

John ended himself outside an ancient, rather dilapidated co-working place on the city's east side later that afternoon. As he pulled the buzzing door open, he saw flickering TVs, decrepit sofas, and rows of tables. Two college-aged programmers were bent over computers, engrossed in some kind of digital fantasy, their headphones in.

Someone John had not seen in two years was sitting in the corner, sandwiched between an unplugged coffee maker and a dusty bookcase.

The name is Olivia Reynolds.

She seemed just as he remembered: her hair pulled back into an untidy ponytail, her sharp spectacles balanced on her nose, and her fingers moving over the piano like a concert pianist. Olivia was the kind of programmer who made code *sing*; she was an underappreciated genius who had little tolerance for office politics and even less for ego.

John stepped forward warily. "Liv?"

She lifted one eyebrow and turned slightly. "Well, well. Unless the ghost of BlackStar's past gets involved.

He smiled wearily. "I feel guilty."

Arms folded over her chest, she reclined back. John, I did not think I would see you outside of a cubicle. I assumed you married that desk.

He said, "I think the desk was cheating on me with Mark."

Her smile widened. "Oh no. What took place?

She was seated across from John. "Everything. Then an odd thing happened. Something... large.

She had a doubtful but interesting expression. "Speak."

After taking out his phone and loading the app, he gave it to her. "Are you familiar with the *Billionaire's Club*?"

She looked at the screen. "No. It seems to be a prototype for a startup. What is this? 21.3% is the population. Fortune: $21.05'? She scrolled. "These measurements are worthless. Why would someone use selfies and "likes" as a measure of success?

That is what I also thought. Until it began to function.

John clarified all of it. From the day of his termination, to the treachery, to the strange tasks, to the increase in wealth. He even showed her the work logs, the gain percentages, and the history of micro investments.

Olivia listened with her arms crossed and her face obscured.

She returned the phone to him after he was finished.

"That sounds crazy," she said.

"It *is* crazy."

With thoughtfulness, she touched her lip. But if it is genuine, it was created by someone. It is being funded by someone. You made those investments? Real markets are *connected* to them. Someone is either operating a shadow system or giving you info.

John bent over. "I need assistance researching it. The software lacks a traceable backend and explicit developer information. It is unbelievably encrypted.

Olivia narrowed her eyes and continued, "And I am going to assume that you want me to reverse-engineer it."

"Liv, you have my trust."

She exhaled after giving him one more beat of her attention. "I am bored, which is lucky for you."

Olivia was completely engrossed with the app for the following two days.

She performed decompilation scripts, configured firewalls, and followed packet data through many levels of deception. Things became odd the more they looked.

On the third night, she said, "This is not normal encryption." "The app learns from our attempts to crack it and reroute in real time, demonstrating its adaptability."

John's eyes became bigger. "You mean it's... living?"

In a human sense, no. But not far. Like a sentient security shell or a high-functioning AI. Who constructed this? They outperform anything on the market by *way*.

John gazed at the interface's radiance. Recently, the software introduced a new feature and updated itself without authorization:

* "Social Investment: Assist in the success of others." Gain double increase. The task is to locate a user to invite.

He scowled. "It wants me to bring in another person."

Olivia raised her head from her computer. "You believe it to be recruiting?"

"Perhaps."

"Or putting you to the test."

He considered it. Not knowing whether the system wanted him to develop or *use* him was the most frightening aspect.

He still glanced at Olivia. "You wish to enter?"

She hesitated. "Do I receive a cut?"

He chuckled. "We both benefit if this works."

She gave a nod. Then extend an invitation to me. Together, let us construct this dream.

---

John hit the app's "Invite User" button. A popup requesting a QR confirmation showed up. After scanning it, Olivia's personal interface appeared on her screen.

The voice was crisp and cheerful as it stated, "Welcome, Olivia Reynolds." "A verified user has recruited you. Shall we get wealthy?

The message dwindled. Her personal statistics loaded $0.00 wealth, 0% popularity.

She laughed. "I guess I will have to start over."

John smiled. "It will add even more sweetness to the victory."

Then John's computer displayed even another warning:

"Established Social Investment." Dual Earnings is now active. Fortune Growth Boost: +3% for every task that is successfully shared.

John blew a whistle. "Collaboration is rewarded by this."

Olivia grinned. "All well, then. Let us engage in its game. Let us play to *win*, nevertheless.

Sitting in a shadowy co-working area with just cheap coffee, aging monitors, and an enigmatic app between them, the two misfits and dreamers gazed at one another.

However, John felt less alone for the first time in weeks.

Now he had a buddy.

He was prepared to share the dream as well.