Chapter 26 – The Man Comes Around (2)

In silence, Eppie sat on her bed, contemplating life.

There were still too many unknowns and not nearly enough answers.

Was she really this helpless? Was Valorie really involved in her past life?
Did Eppie not deserve justice because she was poor, alone and powerless?

That didn’t seem fair.

No. This isn’t fair.

“[System]” she called out to herself. “Show me the money.”

Suffice it to say, the gift of two dozen [Cats] gave A LOT of instant [Causality], followed by slow-trickling currency with the occasional bump.

Should she raise her [Strength] and [Agility]? Even for Valorie, there was no legal basis to get at Eppie, since Eppie was an emancipated minor who paid no taxes, had no assets, and had no family to influence. What this did mean was that Valorie could resort to crude methods like social alienation and physical assault, with Exhibit A being the locker thief scandal.

Should she shore up her physical abilities? The problem with raising that was the [Casualty] cost.

Concrete figures that bordered on superhuman physicality required far more raw currency than something like [Comeliness], which was more subjective. This was because there were “generational” athletes, but almost never “generational” beauties. Likewise, [Intelligence] may seem objective, but in her old world, no one celebrated discovery. The Artemis II mission, the Moon Lander II, and the beginning of the new International Moon Base were merely side stories to the consolidation of capital and the self-glorifying of politicians and businessfolk like herself.

[Strength] on the other hand. If she could lift a grown man with one hand, that would be a feat beyond common sense. That would move into the mythological realm of Herculean strength. It would also be an interesting test of the [System] and its limitations, for it certainly made light of biological realities. When playing music, for example, her hands and body simply knew what to do. Some would call this talent, but for Eppie, she suspected she had simply channelled the [Causality] of some other talented predecessor, and that the [System] was running her body through an AI subroutine.

Besides, even if she could run forever, how far and how long could she run? With a [System] such as hers, why should she resort to physically fighting her foes?

That just seemed wrong.

No… Eppie Fontaine had a better idea.

As a day trader, then a financier, then private equity, CFO, and finally THE CFO, there was something the old Lana knew very well. Shady shit was for amateurs. This was why, when deals reached a certain mass, they had to be done in the open, with a brazenness that left competitors flabbergasted and regulators bewildered.

With enough fame, there was no need to fear the shadowy machinations of mentally unstable folk like Valorie.

With enough exposure, there was no need to pay for seedy people like William Chen, nor his father.

With enough worth, her contractors would naturally ensure that their Golden Goose was free from parasites, competitors and predators.

Didn’t Eric mention something about a Guardian Angel?

Whether one existed in reality didn’t matter because she would make that reality right now, with her own hands.

“[System] use [Roulette]. Spend everything but 15000.”

Her [Causality] rapidly diminished.

Aphorisms popped up one after another, until enough karma was spent to finally trigger the next chapter of her redemption.

Knowledge of the song slid into her head, giving her a migraine like nothing she had yet experienced. Even with her [Perfect Pitch] on passive, she could hear the iconic song in her head, a staple from the Great American Songbook, the connecting tissue between the Jazz Age of the Roaring Twenties and the contemporary music to come, a slow energy ballad, perfect for a girl with a dream-like melancholy.