They all call me an Outer God.

Everything was ready; the time, place, and people were all prepared perfectly.

What else is there that we are not fully prepared for?

Sullivan reached into his pocket, the new, slightly stiff fabric rubbing against his joints and causing a slight ache.

These luxury goods are sometimes expensive not because of their superior quality, but simply because they rely on the brand name to engage in price wars. In reality, they can be completely damaged after just one cleaning.

But that played right into the hands of those capitalists, who never imagined that someone would repeatedly use luxury goods as everyday items.

The best luxury is to break it after one use, then throw it away and buy another one.

"Damn rich people."

Sullivan took a bottle of breath freshener from his pocket, sprayed it into his mouth again, and only after confirming that it was safe did he reveal the nauseating smile that made him want to give the assassins hiding in the shadows a warning not to make any rash moves.

He had to make sure everything was perfect. He originally only intended to kill one person, but when he saw the capitalists walking around in front of him with their heads held high as if they wanted to reach for the sky, he changed his mind.

He wanted to kill everyone here.

The money these people possessed was obtained through the exploitation of the people.

He was just doing the right thing, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Sullivan's eyes twisted for a moment, but he quickly concealed it.

He continued walking towards the golf course.

Thanks to his fabricated identity, no one suspected him, and the hired assassins also infiltrated the scene by posing as attendants of the viscount's eldest son.

Each group of people entering the venue was led by a butler, and Sullivan was unsurprisingly assigned one as well.

The man was a middle-aged man with a white beard who called himself Fred and addressed Sullivan as "Young Master Lesteen".

"Young Master, did the Viscount not come with you this time?"

“My father is too busy to come here, but he thought I would like the atmosphere here, so he let me come and relax.”

Sullivan, without changing his expression, delivered the prepared remarks, which did not arouse Fred's suspicion. Fred simply smiled and continued to explain the golf course-related content to Sullivan.

"Our master invited fifty-eight guests this time, all of whom are allies in the political arena. Playing golf together to relax is just a pretext. Our real entertainment is much more interesting than this."

"What fun things have you prepared this time? I hope it won't be boring."

Sullivan remained unfazed; to be honest, he was somewhat impressed with himself for being able to fake it to such an extent.

Perhaps he was a born killer? He couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

Fred continued his explanation: "We are going to hold an auction later. Since you are the eldest son of the Viscount, you must have prepared enough wealth."

"Isn't that obvious?" Sullivan scoffed, but inwardly he was panicking.

What valuables? No one told him there would be an auction here—what to do? After buying those things and hiring those people, he had almost no money left! What if someone discovered his identity was fake beforehand? His plans would be ruined!

"I've long heard of the Richter family's immense wealth. I'm sure your spending this time will be just as impressive as your father's. Haha, I can't wait to see you flaunting your wealth at the auction."

Fred laughed so hard his face was all wrinkled, completely oblivious to Sullivan's inner worries.

Sullivan was considering whether to make a move now, but doing so would only alert the enemy, as he hadn't even seen the face of his true enemy yet.

Everyone here has to die, but the Earl is the one who must die.

"Will the Earl be at the auction?" he asked. "Of course, and he'll be sitting in the VIP section. Most of the items up for auction are provided by the Earl, and you'll definitely be interested. Even if you're not, your father will probably remind you what to buy to take home."

Fred reminded him again, and Sullivan smiled outwardly, but his heart grew increasingly dark.

He gritted his teeth and habitually reached into his pocket again, only to unexpectedly touch something cold and hard.

This touch struck Sullivan like a thunderbolt; for a moment, he didn't know whether he was more terrified or overjoyed.

He was all too familiar with this thing; if it weren't for it, he wouldn't have been able to sneak into a place only the elite could visit. But hadn't he already spent it all?

The gold coin! That gold coin is back!

This is a special gold coin.

Only special people can obtain it.

If you have any conscience, please put it back where it was, because it doesn't belong to anyone. It's a free, self-aware gold coin, and it's on a journey.

If you're in trouble, you can make a wish upon it, and it will split into two gold coins to help you solve your immediate problem. You can take one of them to resolve your trouble, but remember, there's no such thing as a free lunch; your costs will accumulate.

This gold coin will generate new gold coins as you make a wish, but remember, it is ultimately a free gold coin, and no one should or has the right to take it away.

In an instant, Sullivan broke out in a cold sweat. Fred finally realized that something seemed wrong with Sullivan: "What's wrong, young master?"

"It's nothing. When does the auction start? I have plenty of money."

"You can enter in an hour. Before that, please enjoy the beautiful scenery around you. We have just used five billion tons of water to irrigate the golf course's grass."

"..."

Sullivan took a deep breath and stopped looking at the other person.

"I'd like to wander around by myself and my entourage; you don't need to come along."

"Yes."

The housekeeper is very professional.

Sullivan finally got rid of the annoying butler and found a quiet corner. Then, he took out the gold coin from his pocket, his hands trembling.

"It really is you. Why did you have to come back at this time? Is this also an instruction from the Lord of Trade?"

The gold coin, of course, did not speak, but after much deliberation, Sullivan, who held it, finally made a wish upon it.

"I'm really short of money right now, I need lots and lots of money!"

How much is "a lot"?

This seemed to be the first time the gold coin had spoken to him.

[Make a wish to me, and I can give you wealth you can't even imagine in this lifetime. Your wealth may even exceed the combined wealth of everyone here, and it may even be enough for you to buy the entire Endreus.]

“I don’t need that much!” Upon hearing this, Sullivan even panicked a little. “Making a wish to you comes at a price, but I will pay you back! I promise you.”

Are you worried about my rules?

Don't be silly. Rules are rigid, but I'm flexible. You don't need to care about rules at all. Make a wish to me, and I can give you wealth you can't even imagine in your lifetime! You don't need to pay any price.

(End of this chapter)