This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 530.1: Dad, Lend Me Some Money!
“Dad, lend me some money!”
In a luxurious mansion within the Inner City.
Sid had just rushed home when he was immediately met with his son’s hopeful gaze. His face lit up with interest.
Well now.
Did the sun rise from the west today?
Usually, the brat just asked for money outright. However, his vocabulary increased as it seemed he learned a new word!
He didn’t really care how his son spent money out there. His family fortune wasn’t something that could be burned through just by spending boatloads of cash. As long as the boy was careful when fooling around with girls and didn’t suddenly show up with an illegitimate grandson one day, that was good enough.
Who hadn’t been young once?
Back in his youth, he played around too. Only after getting married did he restrain himself a little. After all, his wife came from a respectable background, and appearances still mattered somewhat.
“How much?”
“10 million!”
The moment he heard that number, Sid’s brows furrowed.
What did 10 million represent?
In terms of wages, that was what all 50,000 workers in Boulder Town would earn after sweating for two to three weeks! And even by output value, it would take those everyone working full throttle for at least a whole day!
Sure, chips were just numbers to him, but they weren’t trash at the end of the day. 10 million clearly wasn’t a small amount. Even if he could afford it, he couldn’t just let his son squander money like that.
“Go ask the butler for 200,000 to spend for now. If it’s not enough, come back and ask me again.”
Realizing his father had misunderstood, Kumiter got anxious and stomped his foot. “Dad! I’m serious! It’s urgent! If you don’t believe me, I’ll write you an IOU!”
Sid glared at him. “Did you get yourself into trouble again? Spit it out. Don’t go making decisions on your own again, damn it!”
Kumiter grinned sheepishly. “No trouble, I swear! What kind of person do you think I am? I found a money-making opportunity!”
A money-making opportunity?
Sid almost burst out laughing.
No one understood his son better than he did. His damn kid couldn’t hold onto money to save his life.
He placed a hand on Kumiter’s shoulder and said patiently, “You’re a little too naive, kid. You’ve gotta stay sharp out there, don’t let people fool you. Tell me, which bastard fed you this fantasy?”
Kumiter chuckled and brushed his father’s hand off.
“Come on! I said it’s a money-making opportunity! You know Kishur, right? He just got back from Ideal City!”
“Kishur? You mean... Malvern’s second son?” Sid took a moment to recall the name of that little punk.
Honestly, he didn’t have a great impression of the guy. The kid was too reckless. To put it bluntly, Kishur was a brainless fool.
He could’ve just hired two thugs to take care of the family quietly, but no, he insisted on playing smart, starting a fire himself like some idiot pig. It was totally immature.
Luckily, his father had some brains. He sent the kid out of the city immediately, smoothed things over with the militia, and found a scapegoat to calm the fury of the residents in the outer city. Only then did the case die down.
Sure, they didn’t care much about surface-level rules, but beneath the surface, there was still an unspoken code everyone followed.
If they stopped respecting any rules, that would make them nothing but marauders.
If it weren’t for the kid’s father, Sid would never have let his son hang out with someone like that.
That said, considering Kishur had spent five years in Ideal City, maybe, just maybe, he’d built a foundation for himself with Malvern’s help. It might be worth investing a little in him after all.
Sid was even planning to send his younger son over too, to build up those connections early so he'd have someone to look after him. When he got his hands on a ton of CRs, he wanted to spend a few days over there enjoying that other kind of luxurious lifestyle.
With that thought, Sid made up his mind and relented. “... Go to the butler and get two million chips.”
Kumiter’s face immediately fell.
“What? Only two million...”
“You think that’s not enough?” Sid smacked the back of his ungrateful son’s head. “You’ve never run a household! You don’t know how hard money is to earn! Go spend the two million. Forget the IOU. Just sign a pledge. You blow it all, and you’re going straight to Ideal City to study! Flights are running now. At least bring back something useful!”
Kumiter pouted. Honestly, he didn’t feel like money was all that hard to make.
His best buddy was the son of Boulder Town Bank’s president. Vega’s son, the big boss, was practically his lapdog. For him, making money was just a matter of snapping his fingers.
Plus, Kishur had mapped out a detailed plan. They had a solid scheme to skyrocket the value of S Coins!
But time was money. Two million it was.
He would turn that two million into four million, then 40 million, then 400 million...
He was sure his idiot dad would be amazed at him then.
While Kumiter was daydreaming about his future fortune, Sid had already made his way to his wife Bonnie.
He pushed open the door to the dressing room and wrapped his arms around the woman sitting in front of the vanity mirror, having her hair done by a maid.
Even though she was in her forties or fifties, thanks to good maintenance, and some bionic parts, she didn’t look much different than in her youth.
The only sign of her age was the faint crow’s feet at the edge of her eyes.
For a wastelander, someone her age would probably already be buried under the dirt.
“What’s got you so happy?” Bonnie’s cheeks turned slightly red. She glanced at the maid and motioned for her to leave and close the door.
Sid didn’t care if anyone was around. He had tasted that maid before anyway. Smiling broadly, he kissed his wife. “Darling, we’re going to be rich!”
Bonnie playfully scolded, “Rich? Aren’t we already rich?”
“We’re going to be richer!” Sid flopped onto the sofa with pride and spilled everything about the bond deal he had worked out with Liszt.
Liszt had agreed to let him have half the cake at original price, and even offered professional advice, suggesting a 50-50 mix of long and short-term bonds.
Sid subscribed to 500 million in short-term bonds and a billion in long-term bonds. Originally, he wanted all 1.5 billion in long bonds, after all, buying a billion at an 85% issue price sounded irresistible. But since Liszt had to make something too, he happily agreed to split it.
At 85%, it meant he only needed 850 million chips to buy a billion chips’ worth of bonds. And the New Alliance would pay him 40 million chips in interest each year!
Of course, he wasn’t aiming for the interest. Only poor people looked forward to bank interest.
He was going to repackage the one billion in bonds and resell them to the Boulder Town merchants and factory owners for 1.3 to 1.4 billion.
After all, if he got to eat the meat, he had to let them sip some soup.
And those factories and merchants who had made money from the New Alliance now had plenty of cash. They would definitely be interested in a profitable deal like this.
They would sip that soup.
In fact, they had to.
Thinking of this, Sid couldn’t help but admire his own brilliance.
Just by changing hands, he would earn 100 million!
That was money a person would have to wait two and a half years to earn in interest. He could pocket it in a snap with the wave of a hand.
People like Liszt, honest folks who just ran factories and did business, had no idea what real power looked like.
“I still feel something’s off. Why would Liszt give you such a profitable deal? Isn’t he one of the new nobles?” After hearing everything, Bonnie still felt vaguely uneasy.
To be blunt, she didn’t trust wastelanders.
Even if they wormed their way into nobility through money, their blood still carried filth and original sin.
Sid wasn’t surprised at her concern. Women like her were sheltered from the darkness outside. Their windows didn’t offer a single glimpse of the wasteland.
But he understood all too well.
