Chapter One: The Super Tycoon Spending System

"Finally, I’ve caught Lin Erke when she’s not broadcasting," Ma Wu exclaimed, excitement lighting up his face as he opened the Goldfish TV platform and entered Lin Erke’s streaming room.

Inside, a girl was singing. She wore a suggestive school uniform, her long silver hair cascading down her back. She had a flawless, oval-shaped face, large eyes, and soft, full lips—stunningly beautiful. Her voice was captivating, and she had breathed new life into countless old songs.

"Erke, I love you," Ma Wu typed, as he did every day in her stream. Yet not once had Lin Erke replied to him.

"There’s that guy again, always saying ‘I love you,’" Ma Jueteng remarked in the chat. "Never tips, just leeches off free streams every day. Get out of here."

"Damn it, even Erke herself hasn’t said anything, so who the hell are you to run your mouth?" Ma Wu snapped back, his anger flaring.

"Watch your tone. Is she yours? She’s mine. I’ve tipped nearly two hundred thousand—how much have you given? Pathetic."

"Hey, Brother Ma, don’t scold him. He’s my fan," Lin Erke paused her singing to intervene.

"That guy does nothing but lurk in free streams and harass people. Why shouldn’t I call him out?"

"This Ma Jueteng is getting out of hand, always picking fights," someone commented.

"The streamer herself hasn’t said anything, but Ma Jueteng throws his weight around just because he tips. Ridiculous," another echoed.

Viewers flooded the chat with criticism for Ma Jueteng’s behavior. He responded with nothing but a snorting emoji.

"Enough talk—let’s see some real tips," Ma Jueteng typed.

The screen exploded with gifts and donations.

"Screw you, just because you have money doesn’t make you special. What, you think you’re immortal or something? In the end, you’ll still need a coffin. Even Erke doesn’t care, so why are you making a fuss? Who cares about your opinion anyway? Am I watching your stream?" Ma Wu furiously typed out his retort, ready to send it.

But then, his phone froze. He stared in disbelief.

"Seriously? After everything I’ve been called, now my phone crashes before I can fight back? Give me a break!"

He muttered at his unresponsive phone, growing more frustrated by the second. He raised his hand to throw the device in exasperation.

"Congratulations, host, for activating the Super Tycoon Spending System," a woman’s voice chimed from his phone.

Startled, Ma Wu lowered his arm and looked at the screen, which was now glowing with a green light.

"What the hell is this?"

"Host, first-time user. Please complete the activation task: tip a female streamer and become her top contributor. If you fail to become the top contributor within 24 hours, you will be forced to stream yourself eating feces."

Ma Wu was about to curse, but a bank notification popped up at the top of the screen.

Ding—Your Goldfish account has been credited with ten million Goldfish coins.

Holy shit.

"This is a real tycoon system?" Ma Wu was stunned, then overwhelmed with glee.

He threw back his head and laughed. "Ma Jueteng calls me broke? He’s about to see what a real tycoon looks like. Get ready to be put in your place!"

He dared not waste a second—if he failed to become the top contributor, the consequences would be dire.

Ma Wu tipped a single Lamborghini.

Ma Wu tipped ninety-nine Lamborghinis.

The tips kept coming, and Lin Erke covered her mouth, unable to hide her joy.

"Damn, Ma Wu’s come out swinging. Turns out he’s loaded!"

"Ninety-nine Lamborghinis—that’s two hundred thousand!"

"Ma Wu is Lin Erke’s real fan. Unbelievable!"

"Ma Jueteng, your turn! You’ve been put to shame."

The stream erupted with the frenzy of Ma Wu’s gifts.

A few minutes later, Ma Jueteng finally appeared.

"Kid, going all in, huh? No matter what you do, you can’t outspend me. You dare try to take my top spot?"

He fired back with another hundred Lamborghinis.

The audience immediately shifted their cheers to his side.

Though words in the chat were just text, the excitement was palpable.

But Ma Wu wasn’t backing down—he sent a hundred Cupid’s Arrows, each worth thirty thousand Goldfish coins—three thousand yuan apiece. One hundred arrows equaled three hundred thousand.

Far away on a provincial highway, Ma Jueteng cursed at his phone.

"How the hell does he still have money? He never tipped before, and now he’s throwing out huge sums. Must’ve gotten riled up and dumped his savings. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have provoked him—cost me another two hundred thousand."

"I’ve got one last two hundred thousand. If I tip it all, I’ll be completely broke. But he probably has nothing left, right? If I tip another two hundred thousand, he should be tapped out." After hesitating, pride got the better of him.

"Screw it, appearances matter."

He tipped sixty-six Rolls-Royces, draining his Goldfish coins.

"Haha, I’m back on top!" Ma Jueteng watched his phone, seeing no more tips from Ma Wu, and laughed triumphantly.

"Out of cash? Come on, keep tipping if you can. Trying to outdo me?" he taunted in the chat.

But what happened next left him utterly stunned.

The screen erupted with a new wave of gifts.

Ma Wu tipped a Rolls-Royce.

Ma Wu tipped ninety-nine Rolls-Royces.

Ma Wu tipped ninety-nine Courtship Snow Lotuses.

"Unbelievable! Ma Wu is a real tycoon—he’s tipped a million yuan already!"

"This is a god-tier spender! Previously, Ma Jueteng topped out at a few thousand per session, sometimes ten thousand, with a total of maybe two hundred thousand. Ma Wu just dropped a million in one go!"

The audience was in shock, their worldview shattered.

"This can’t be real. How does he still have money?" Ma Jueteng stared at his phone, his heart bleeding with regret. He shouldn’t have insulted others just because he tipped more—now he’d lost money and face.

Just as regret set in, a blaring horn snapped him back to reality—a luxury car sped toward him, and in an instant, there was a collision.

The impact was immense. Everything went black for Ma Jueteng, and he passed out.

Five minutes passed with no sign of Ma Jueteng in the chat. Ma Wu breathed a huge sigh of relief—at least he wouldn’t have to live stream himself eating excrement.

"Congratulations, host, you have completed the task. Please enter the system interface," the Super Tycoon Spending System prompted.

Inside, the interface resembled a sophisticated app with many features.

His profile appeared on the screen:

Name: Ma Wu
Occupation: Student
Interests: Self-pleasure, fantasizing about Lin Erke
Spending Points: 1000
Show-off Points: 0
Tycoon Points: 0
Face-slapping Points: 0
Success Points: 0 (hasn’t even had a girlfriend)
System note: Success points can be used to purchase items within the system.
Tipping points can be exchanged for cash, which builds your Tycoon Points.
Tycoon Points are linked to Show-off Points. Successfully showing off can yield unexpected rewards.
Host’s achievements are too low. Please immediately exchange tipping points for cash.

A prompt popped up on his phone: Exchange now?

Yes.

Ma Wu clicked "Yes." Another window appeared, asking him to bind his bank card.

He entered his card details, and five seconds later, his phone vibrated with a new message.

Ding—Agricultural Bank: Your account ending XXXX has been credited with five million yuan.

"Unbelievable—it really worked!" Ma Wu was ecstatic. Suddenly, he was five million yuan richer. He had thought it was some kind of virus or scam, but this was a real tycoon reward system—amazing.

Ding—Host is now a millionaire. Success Points gained: 100.

Ding—Recommendation: Host should immediately spend the five million to gain Tycoon Points and trigger the next mission.

Mission available. Accept?

Without hesitation, Ma Wu accepted.

Ding—Host has accepted the mission. If you fail to spend five million within one hour, you will be forced to live stream yourself being castrated.

Ma Wu nearly spat blood. "Damn, this mission is way too dangerous!"

"But I actually like it," he smirked. After all, spending money was easy—cars, houses, whatever. He just had to avoid disaster.

To make sure he wouldn’t have to face the consequences, Ma Wu hurried to the city’s real estate sales center.

The place was packed with mismatched older and younger couples—clear signs of wealth everywhere, the air thick with the scent of money.

Ma Wu scanned the listings. Suddenly, he spotted his own rented apartment building up for sale.

"No wonder the old landlord wanted us all out—they’re selling the place," Ma Wu realized, an idea beginning to form in his mind.