Eric arrived at the pawn shop district accompanied by an armored car, with two Black Falcon operatives positioned a few meters away.
It still felt strange.
Not just having security—
But knowing that a single phone call had brought a paramilitary group, complete with vehicle, driver, and tactical coverage.
A few months ago, he could barely pay rent.
Now he walked through one of the most dangerous parts of the city with steady posture—
Like someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
Even if, deep down, he was still improvising half his plans.
It was time to execute his new strategy.
Offering too much money would raise suspicion.
Questions about origin.
Dangerous curiosity.
Envy.
But an unusual offer…
That could still be accepted.
In each shop, Eric repeated the same approach.
Calm.
Measured.
Looking each merchant directly in the eye.
"I'm interested in buying coins. I'll pay 30% above value."
The math was simple:
If a merchant gathered €100 in coins—
Eric paid €130.
With a limit of €1,000 per transaction.
Enough to be attractive.
Not enough to look insane.
He knew exactly why he was limiting himself.
First: his movements were already drawing attention.
Second: walking around with large amounts of cash in that district was an invitation to be followed.
Third: when the reward is too high, people assume a scam.
He needed to look bold—
Not reckless.
And it worked.
Merchants widened their eyes.
Some hesitated.
Others accepted immediately, sensing easy profit.
Coins that would sit for months in registers suddenly became quick money.
Eric maintained a professional smile while his security observed everything discreetly.
His phone vibrated.
He answered.
"Have you lost your mind?!" Elena's voice exploded from the other side.
Eric pulled the phone slightly away.
"What do you mean?"
"What do I mean?! You own half my shop and you're offering a 30% profit across the entire district—and you don't even make that offer in your own store?!"
He closed his eyes for a second.
"What kind of businessman gives that kind of advantage to competitors?" she continued.
Eric glanced around.
One of the mercenaries was pretending to examine a display—
But was clearly listening.
How could he explain this without sounding insane?
"Elena… I have my reasons."
"You have your reasons? That's it?"
He knew explaining the Midas System was impossible.
"Have you found a buyer for my coins yet?" he asked, shifting the focus.
She took a deep breath.
"Do you think it's easy to find someone with enough liquidity to buy a thousand coins? I'll find one. But I need details."
Irritation flickered inside him.
Then came the memory—sharp as a blade.
"Did you question the origin of my money when I used it to save your family's business?"
Silence.
The kind that hurts.
"…I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'll do what you asked."
"Thank you."
He hung up.
The next few hours were exhausting.
Enter.
Negotiate.
Pay.
Collect coins.
Repeat.
His back began to ache.
The presence of the mercenaries—exciting at first—now felt suffocating.
"Are you finished, sir?" one of them asked.
"Yes," Eric replied, stretching his shoulders.
The man hesitated.
Eric made a small gesture.
"Go ahead."
"Forgive my honesty, Mr. Santos… but why are you still living in that apartment? Is it strategy… or is it really your home?"
Eric fell silent.
Even he didn't know.
Maybe it was the last fragment of his old life.
A fixed point in the chaos.
"Honestly… I don't know. Does it bother you?"
"It's not a problem, sir. But it makes it difficult to guarantee your safety in that area."
Eric nodded slowly.
"I think you're right."
The guard seemed surprised.
"I'll speak to my lawyer."
They got into the car.
Eric called Lucía.
She answered almost immediately.
"What do you need, sir?"
"I prefer Eric."
A brief pause.
"What do you need, Eric?"
"I need a large house. Spacious. Secure. I want to rent it. As soon as possible. I can pay in gold."
On the other end, papers shuffled.
"When do you need it? Next month? Two weeks?"
"Tomorrow."
"…Are you insane?!"
Eric smiled.
"Call it an emergency. No questions."
Lucía took a deep breath.
She still didn't know if she was working for a genius—
Or a highly sophisticated criminal.
"I'll do my best."
He hung up.
"And the prospectors?" the guard asked, curious.
Eric leaned back.
"They've already been hired."
The man frowned.
In reality, Eric hadn't finalized anything yet.
But he had started something bigger.
Not prospectors of gold—
But prospectors of forgotten coins.
He planned to expand to nearby cities.
Build a collection network.
Small intermediaries earning commissions to gather coins from:
Markets.
Churches.
Parking lots.
Old machines.
Storage units.
He didn't need to mine gold.
He needed to mine change.
The car crossed a bridge as the sun began to set.
Eric rested his head against the window.
In less than a week, he had:
Bought and sold a business.
Hired mercenaries.
Paid off a criminal debt.
Unlocked a dimensional vault.
Started operational expansion.
And still—
He felt behind.
His phone vibrated again.
Message from Lucía:
"I have three property options. Gated community. Private security. I need your decision today."
He smiled.
Things were accelerating.
But something inside him was changing.
At first, he just wanted to survive.
Then, to protect Elena.
Now…
He wanted control.
Control over risk.
Over money.
Over the system.
The car stopped in front of his old building.
Eric looked at the worn facade.
Maybe it really was time to leave it behind.
He stepped out.
Climbed the stairs.
Entered the apartment.
Closed the door.
The silence felt heavy.
He walked to the wardrobe.
Opened it.
The golden glow was still there.
But now—
It didn't feel like a miracle.
It felt like responsibility.
Eric sat on the bed and activated the System.
The blue interface appeared.
He selected "Convert Coins."
The coins he had gathered began transforming—
One by one.
The golden light filled the room.
He didn't smile anymore.
Now—
He analyzed.
Calculated.
With every new coin, he thought about logistics, storage, risk, expansion.
The Midas System wasn't just wealth.
It was scale.
And scale required structure.
His phone vibrated again.
A message from Elena:
"I found a potential buyer. Not local. Wants total discretion."
Eric replied:
"Set up a meeting. I want details first."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
He knew he was crossing invisible lines.
The more he grew—
The more he needed to appear legitimate.
Companies.
Contracts.
Real estate.
Formal security.
The gold had to become a system.
The system had to become an empire.
He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the city.
It was still the same.
But he wasn't.
And for the first time—
Instead of fear—
He felt something else.
Ambition.
Not the desperate ambition of someone trying to escape poverty.
But the cold ambition of someone who realizes…
He can shape the game itself.
And somewhere in the shadows of the pawn shop district—
Defeated men were watching.
Waiting.
Because when money starts moving in silence…
There are always eyes counting.
And Eric was beginning to understand:
His greatest threat was no longer the loan sharks.
It was attention.
And attention was the one resource the Midas System couldn't control.