Chapter 2: Reddit Advice and a Dangerous Realization
For comfort, I posted a question on Reddit:
[If you were given unlimited money, but only had a month to live, would you take the deal?]
Let’s be real—when you’re spiraling at 3AM, the Internet’s the only friend who’ll listen.
Pretty soon, the replies flooded in:
u/CashCow42: Dude, are you really handing out cash?
u/PartyAllNight: Absolutely! Party for a month or slog for a lifetime? Easy choice.
u/SnailBillionaire: No way. Last time a snail gave me a billion, I still haven’t spent it all.
Half the comments were jokes, but some were dead serious. The vibe: YOLO.
Most people were down for it. That made me feel a little less alone.
I managed a half-hearted smile. Misery loves company, right?
I stretched, ready to go out and spend away.
I even checked my pockets for keys, shoes, and my favorite battered hoodie—nothing says "ready to blow cash" like your oldest sneakers.
But then I froze.
The system had given me eight bucks. I had to spend all eight before I could get the next payout—sixteen dollars.
Suddenly, it hit me. It wasn’t about just having the money. I had to spend every single cent before the next drop. No leftovers. No rolling it forward.
To really splurge, I’d need at least six or seven digits, right?
I did the math: the twentieth transfer would be $524,288.
My head spun. That was more than my parents’ house. And that was only twenty days in.
If I blew that now, I’d lose seventeen days of my life.
The math hit me like a cold shower. I could only unlock bigger payouts by torching every dollar, day after day.
Forget it. I’d just spend the fourth transfer—eight bucks—before midnight.
I checked my phone. Barely 10PM. I could still make it to the corner store.
But then I paused. Was this really the point of the system?
A part of me wanted to rebel. Was I just going to ride out my days blowing pocket change and dreaming of what could’ve been?
After mulling it over, I pleaded with the system:
System bro, system grandpa, can I get an advance?
I even tried talking into my phone like it was Alexa. Desperation does weird things.
The system snapped: [Dream on. You think this is a credit card?]
Credit card... bank... loan... wait. That’s it!
A lightbulb flicked on. What if I could borrow now—spend in advance—and pay it back once the system paid out?
I could borrow now and pay it back with my system cash.
My mind raced with visions of cash advances, payday loans—basically, all those ads with smiling actors and microscopic fine print. Yeah, I finally became their target audience.
Of course, the stingy system wouldn’t give me a cent. Fine, whatever, see ya.
I muttered under my breath, but the phone stayed stubbornly silent. Time to take matters into my own hands.