Another different story line. Applogies to those who have commented asking for follow-ons to previous works, I will endevour to continue them in time. But for now, I hope you enjoy. As always, comments and feedback are welcome.
I've had a peculiar career. I went to university to study computer science, but my lecturers were crap and didn't seem to get the potential of the online world. Although I stuck around until halfway through my second year, I had given up on it before Christmas of my first year. The only reason I stuck around was my girlfriend, once she came to her senses and dumped me, I left. During the Christmas break after my first term of university, I spent my time playing computer games, scrolling reddit and video calling my girlfriend.
This was essentially the same as I had been doing prior to uni, although my girlfriend had replaced porn. What changed though was I started get more annoyed at the flaws in each game. I don't know if it was frustration from my crappy lecturers or if it was fallout from my entire family being painful and exhausting to be around. With two sisters who were stereotypical mean girl bitches, the only things they agreed on was how lame I am and how pointless my opinion is. My parents aren't much better, both heavy smokers so stink the house out, and argue so much I am almost hopeful one of them gets the balls to just call it quits.
Anyway, one night in my room, I got drunk on a call with my girlfriend. We fooled around for an hour or so but eventually she had to go to sleep. I jumped onto a game and within five minutes it was just making me angry. Needing to vent, I wrote a drunken email and stalked a bunch of the maker's employees until I worked out the email structure and emailed some of their senior team a pitch to be a consultant and correct the problems with their games. Drunk me though this was such a good idea, I spent the remaining hours until dawn sending drunk rants to employees of different tech firms and suggesting hiring me to solve them.
The next day I was very hungover having continued drinking all night long. My family had great fun annoying me when I eventually left the safety of my room. I spent the next two days recovering from what looking back might have been alcohol poisoning. Eventually my stomach settled, and head stopped spinning, and I could go back to playing computer games. I hadn't even logged on before the memory of that night flooded back. I quickly logged in, went to my emails and saw three replies. One thanked me for my feedback but said they don't employ consultants, the other two agreed to discuss terms in the new year.
So, for the next few years, I worked as a consultant improving computer games, corporate websites. Eventually though, I got into creating algorithms and then advertising methods. Making six figure salaries and using algorithms to invest money, I was already self-sufficient even if I couldn't afford a house when I dropped out of university. Over the next few years, I had a couple of girlfriends, but women willing to date me were either dumb and pretty with a thing for nerds or not very attractive but intelligent.
My few friends pointed out that I am far from an expert and would have more options if I went outside occasionally. I was more than happy with pretty and dumb though, I wanted sex, we both wanted them in sexy outfits. It's a win-win. Until it isn't.
About two years ago I went to one of said friend's weddings. I happened to be single at the time, my last girlfriend dumping me after I hadn't had dinner in or out with her for almost a month. My friends pointed out that she had a valid argument. I pointed out that I had a busy month. But watching him walk down the aisle with the love of his life, a very kind and happy woman, I realised that I was going to die in a big expensive house alone and probably start decaying before anyone notices.
I had become a billionaire, yet I live in a two-bed flat that gets cleaned once a month. I was a mess in all senses and haven't really made any noticeable impacts on the world despite my fortune. So, over the last year, I have diversified my portfolio, bought a beautiful estate with multiple outhouses and a large ancient country mansion with its pillars, three-meter-high windows and a wing for staff. The day after the wedding, I decided that I need to break down my money into pots for different things.
20% for charities
50% for sustainable and positive investment
20% for other investments
10% for me
It was a simple formula, but one that could be applied to profits as well as initial holdings. A lot of my donations went to Africa and South America, funding health, education and reforestation projects. I invested some money in sustainable energy but the big one for me was putting a thorn in the side of the American healthcare giants. As a Brit, their greed and corruption are terrifying evidence of some of the greatest evil in the world.
Using more computer-based processes to develop new drugs and manufacturing methods, one of my first goals was to manufacture insulin cheaply. Once we nailed that, the money started rolling in. We were producing at about five percent of the cost our competitors were selling at, so even selling at double the production cost was massively below market rates. Our competitors were forced to reduce their profit margins on the drug, but their ridiculous corporate structures and outdated manufacturing methods meant they never competed with us. It didn't help when after a few months people started moving to our product simply out of spite.
My multimillion-dollar project had taken less than a year to become three quarters of my total net worth. I didn't need the money from it though, instead investing in more research. As medicine isn't really an interest of mine, I never really got involved with the business except to ensure no one was being too overpaid and the profit margins remained fair. A few months ago, I went through the product list for the company and a couple of them caught my eye. Lactation inducer, muscle relaxant and muscle 'rigidants'.
Out of curiosity, I had started going to hospitals to meet people my company helped and similarly to locations where projects I had helped fund occurred. Lots of the people said roughly the same thing, 'Thank you so much, you saved my life." Or "Thank you so much, I owe you everything."
These got me thinking and just like the first time my life changed, I got drunk and did something wonderfully stupid. I created an algorithm to find people in the world who have no one and nothing. The main challenge was removing the skew caused by the difference between first and third world people. But eventually it was done. Next, I adapted it to anonymously contact each of them. Over the last six months, I have helped almost three hundred different people find a new meaning to life. Almost half of whom admitted to considering suicide.
I feel like a saint. I feel like a hero. I even feel like a God. But in the end, I feel like I am owed something more. I want my 10%. All these people I save, yet I have no one. All my relationships I've had have taught me I am not suited to that life. The staff in my house are great for keeping everything clean and providing me with food. But they invade my privacy, do stuff their way rather than my way and are generally a bit boring.
There is only one thing for it. I send an email and dismiss my entire staff, I work with my AI personal assistant to help manage a refit of my house. As I do this, I decide to take my cut of the people I save. And the drugs I produce. With all the processes online, there is barely any trail left behind as I get to work. Within a month, I have picked my first three people and spend the next month talking to them whilst looking for more. Once happy they and I are on the same line of thought, I arrange for them to leave their lives behind and hitch a lift undocumented on my jet to my private airport.
It takes three months for my house to be updated to the current century. From the outside, it is almost impossible to notice the difference. Inside though, it is blatant. All the pealing wallpaper is gone, the doors are sanded, repolished and on new hinges and the old artwork is sold. The stingy basement has been cleared out now containing a spa, gym, swimming pool and cinema room. Having lived almost exclusively in my bedroom for the last two years, I have to re-remember the true size of the house I have bought and the need of staff to occupy it.
"Ladies, I won't remember your names. And honestly, I don't want to know them. Now is your last chance to have a career. Just say the word and I'll help get you a job anywhere in the world." I look at the three beautiful women, all in simple and baggy dresses, none of them make a sound. "Leave the dresses for the next group, let's go see your new home."
They had spent the last three weeks doing fitness training, the one who hadn't known English had started and all three had lessons in cleaning and cooking from my AI so know how I want different tasks to be completed. I lead my three slaves across the long lawn. My old gardeners had a painful task of ensuring no stones got onto the grass so you could walk barefoot without fear of stones. Having just got rid of all seventy staff, I had to get recruiting quickly. Yet according to my maths, I have saved about 150 people so far so could only claim fifteen slaves.
It quickly becomes noticeable that the three women struggle to keep up with the different tasks. My AI comes up with a suggestion, offer on kinky pages for people to submit willingly. Slaves who actively want such a lifestyle rather than my current method of offering it as an alternative to a job to desperate people shouldn't count towards my fifteen. Through the combined method, I gain twenty new staff over the following three months.
Unlike my previous staff who all seemed like they had a stick up their asses and judged me constantly, these women actively worshiped me. They walked around naked, and so did I. If I wanted one of them to be a footrest, I told them, and they obeyed. Whenever I went out, I knew two women would wait by the front and the back door until I returned. This meant that every time I come home, the door would swing open as I approached, and a woman would be kneeling on the other side ready to remove my shoes for me.
The only downside was having people around. I have so far avoided anyone even knowing where I live, let alone inviting people to visit. At my AI's suggestion, the maids all had clothes for when off duty. They could all pick their own, although they were limited to two items at any one time, and socks and shoes were only for going outside. When my AI pointed out one of the new slaves was a seamstress, it bought her fabric and equipment and soon each woman had a matching maid outfit. The dresses are backless, show plenty of cleavage and is just the right height to give glimpses of their ass as they walk away.
"Come on, we always host. Shouldn't the rich man be the one paying?" Clare scolds me.
She is Henry's wife, the couple who's wedding caused my epiphany. While they have noticed I seem to be doing better, I doubt they will approve of what my solution is. They are my best friends though; Henry was one of my housemates and we share a love of computer games. They did alright for money, and apart from jibes like this, they never acted like I should give them any. Instead, they treated me like the weird reck of a man I am.
"Don't say I didn't warn you." I shrug, having told them throughout the years such an event would be bad for all three of us. "Next Friday?"
"Oh my word!" Henry dramatically expresses. "Do you remember hitting your head recently, I think you might have a concussion!"
"Haha, very funny." I stick my tongue out at the giggling pair.
"I told you; it was only a matter of time before the drugs rotted Joey's brain. Happens to all the people with money." Clare continues, ignoring me completely.
