Money Flex System: The More I Flex, the Stronger I Get

“Money can’t buy happiness.” — Modern losers “Strength comes from within.” — Broke cultivators “True love is priceless.” — Fantasy Virgins with delusions Cool. Write that on a napkin. I’ll wipe my gold-plated ass with it. Me? I don’t get high on power. I get dividends. I don’t fall in love. I fall into offshore accounts with seven-figure passwords. They show me their bodies — curves, tits, halos, dripping between the thighs. I show them my net worth. They get wetter. I get richer. Some elf queen once danced naked under starlight, all glowing nipples and poetic bullshit. I was busy checking the property value of her forest. Bought the land out from under her feet. Now she pays me rent. In tears. A succubus tried to fuck me senseless — full wingspan, no shame, moaning like an opera singer. I threw a briefcase at her. She came. Twice. I charged her for the suitcase. The Holy Princess? Kissed my feet in front of her army, panties in hand like it was a fucking peace treaty. I offered to forgive her nation’s debt — Only if she vacuumed my vaults wearing nothing but tax records. She did. Enthusiastically. You think pussy distracts me? I’ve turned down orgies hosted by goddesses just because the ticket price was too low. You think shaking your ass in my lap will earn my attention? Unless your cheeks are slapping together while you count money for me, I don’t even blink. They strip, beg, groan, squirt — thinking they’re the reward. I’m just wondering if their jewelry is real. They call me cold. No, sweetheart. I’m fiscally disciplined. I don’t lose blood down south. I gain assets. They say I’ve got no heart. I sold that thing. High yield. Great return. Because I’m not chasing orgasms. I’m chasing ownership. I don’t fuck bodies — I fuck economies. Girls kneel. Kings cry. I audit both. They call me a evil greedy merchant? Nah. I’m the Wall Street demon in a fantasy world attacked by the modern world and the cultivation world. The god of gold and ghosted lovers. The beast who gets harder the bigger the bribe. You think she loves you? She saw my vault door once and started lactating diamonds. And if your girl so much as hears my laugh? She’ll drop her panties and her 401k.