svetikya Page 271
Page 271
In this regard.
Ian tried to make the Dragon King smile, but his crooked mouth gesture was a bit clumsy.
"I bought the house as a gift for my mother. That's how rich people are." Knowing he was a nouveau riche, he showed his bank transfer information without any hesitation.
There's also the backend of the bank's app.
have to say.
Ian perfectly embodies the arrogance of the nouveau riche.
It doesn't rely on acting skills.
It all comes down to talent.
"!!!!!!"
Real estate agent Phil's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
His mouth was so wide open it could almost fit a baseball.
He blinked, then blinked again, and even swiped the app on Ian's half-broken phone to try and make sure it wasn't some kind of prank using a fake app.
But everything is real.
"One, ten, one hundred..."
His voice grew softer and softer, and by the time he counted to "hundred million," it had become a breathy sound, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
That's quite normal. After all, it's really hard for someone like Phil, a middle-class person, to imagine what kind of family would give a child $1.09 billion to squander.
Compared to his wealthy father-in-law, he was practically living in a slum!
Suddenly, he stood up abruptly, his movements so precise it was as if he were possessed by a West Point instructor, his voice unusually serious, "Mission accomplished, sir!"
Phil didn't want to miss out on such a big deal.
Even if he doesn't have any properties available.
Through persistent pleading and cajoling, he was able to obtain similar listings from others.
Ian blinked. "It would be best to find it today. You know, we rich people's time is very precious—yes, that's a line I saw in a TV show."
He was ruthlessly exposed by Phil.
But I'm really anxious.
After all, Ian could wait.
But my mom and family couldn't wait.
Unless his father builds a new cabin, but Ian doesn't really like living in a cabin. He's been a savage paladin outside and doesn't want to go back home and experience the ordinary daily life of a savage.
“No problem!” Phil responded quickly, almost like a reflex, but his brain was still processing the visual shock he had just experienced—the string of numbers was long enough to make his mortgage look like a convenience store receipt.
"Okay, okay, my call has been sent to your phone." Ian said, then turned and left, his school uniform jacket billowing in the morning breeze.
"But you haven't seen my flyer yet."
Phil couldn't stop Ian from going to school.
He frantically pulled out his phone.
Sure enough, a new notification popped up on the lock screen.
[New Contact: Mysterious Tycoon]
No phone number, no email address.
There is only this one contact information that can be dialed.
"Oh, I knew Men in Black technology really existed!" Real estate agent Phil was stunned. It took him a long time to come to his senses, and a lot of wonderful ideas popped into his mind.
A mysterious child with advanced technology wants to buy a luxury mansion!
He could tell this story to his children for a lifetime!
“I need to get this job done. Hehe, if this deal goes through, Claire will definitely give me a big reward tonight!” Phil picked up his phone and dialed a few numbers of his colleagues.
"Hey buddy, I'm looking for a place with a big garden, several garages, several studies, and preferably some cats and dogs."
He reiterated Ian's request.
"The kind of big house only rich people would consider?" There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a low chuckle: "You're not looking for that Wayne family mansion, are you?"
"Which mansion?" Phil asked instinctively.
"The one Bruce Wayne just listed is right on the lakeside in the East End. It's a three-story building with a private garden and underground parking, and I heard it also has a hidden wine cellar."
The other person's voice was full of envy.
Phil was slightly taken aback upon hearing this.
"Bruce Wayne? That reclusive billionaire living in Gotham? Didn't he just announce that he'd taken on the reconstruction work for the disaster-stricken area of Metropolis? He must be under a lot of financial pressure, right? Is this to raise money?"
His confusion made his friend chuckle.
"You underestimate that person."
"They're just selling their old house to buy a new one. Do you think they're short of money? They probably just want a place to live that they can barely afford. Maybe their new mansion is already on the blueprints for the disaster area's reconstruction."
The colleague on the other end of the phone sounded very emotional.
What countless people crave but cannot obtain, the wealthy may only make preparations on a whim for possible convenience. This is the difference between people in the capitalist world.
Phil was also stunned.
I was amazed.
The world of the wealthy seems increasingly unfathomable.
“Okay, I’ll take my client to see it later.” Phil thanked his friend first, then received the message his friend sent, and spoke quietly as he checked it.
Hear the words.
The other party immediately gave a reminder.
“Okay, but we need to hurry. Three groups of people have already made reservations. You know, many wealthy people would love to get in touch with Bruce Wayne and become familiar with him.”
This is a common practice in high society that many people are familiar with.
Phil understood.
However, he could only sigh helplessly.
"What's wrong? Is your client usually very busy?"
Phil's friend on the other end of the phone noticed his predicament.
Phil scratched his head.
"I suppose he's a bit busy? My client is rushing to school. By the way, how long do private high schools usually let out?" Phil clearly misunderstood the school Ian attended.
His words were very informative.
He directly silenced his friend.
"Outrageously rich people."
The voice on the other end was filled with emotion.
“Who says otherwise?” Phil shrugged as well. The two real estate agents sighed simultaneously and began asking each other what the wealthy were thinking. They eventually came to the same conclusion: the world of the rich is like quantum physics—you think you understand it, but you haven’t even gotten a foothold in it.
This is true enlightenment.
at the same time.
Ian arrived at his school right on time.
He always knew that a superhero could lack great abilities, but he absolutely had to have an outstanding academic background. Most of the popular superheroes were highly educated individuals.
"I wonder if that agent is reliable or not." Ian was still thinking about the mansion he had bought to please his mother, unaware that Phil had already found a very suitable property.
There is no such thing as true omniscience.
The kind-hearted boy could never have imagined that even though he was in the metropolis, the money he earned from Master Wayne would eventually flow back into Master Wayne's hands.
of course.
This is not the problem Ian is facing now. He has returned to his student life, and even though he has become a billionaire, he has not bought a plane to land in the school parking lot.
"I'm not a person who likes to be flashy. At most, I will just buy the opportunity to create exam papers so that everyone can create exam papers that are truly valuable."
It's not just about not being flashy.
Ian also has a lot of consideration for his classmates.
Enter the campus.
Most students have not yet arrived.
Sunlight streamed obliquely through the window onto the desks, casting a dazzling arc of golden light across the classroom ceiling. Ian sat in the classroom, idly twirling his pen.
He couldn't wait for Madison, the delinquent girl, to come to school, and naturally, he couldn't use his status as a billionaire to condescend to personally trick her into signing the New Justice League induction agreement.
"Why isn't that delinquent girl here yet?" Ian was just a little suspicious, but he didn't have any worries about the money. He thought that the delinquent girl wouldn't be smart enough to run away with his money and move to another city.
Eager to show off to his best friend, Ian looked at the back door of the classroom for the 108th time, but still didn't see that familiar figure who always loved chewing bubble gum.
Logically, Madison should have already come to show off his designer bags and shoes, only to be slapped in the face by Ian's bank account balance. Ian was quite unhappy that he failed to show off.
Just at this time.
"Attention, students."
Student counselor Ms. Misha tapped on the podium. Today she was wearing a T-shirt with "LOVE & PEACE" printed on it, and she looked more like a student who had not yet graduated than usual.
Miss Misha has a good reputation for authority.
The entire classroom fell silent when she entered.
“First, we must mourn Mr. White…” Miss Misha’s voice lowered. “The police have confirmed that the previous laboratory explosion was an accidental suicide caused by Mr. White’s experimental error.”
A moment of silence fell over the classroom.
Ian's thermos suddenly vibrated slightly.
“So,” Miss Misha suddenly glared at Ian, “please, some of you who are good at making up rumors, stop spreading rumors like Mr. White ascending to the Steroid Planet.”