Godly Investor: A Hundred Trillion Dollars For Investment And Donations

In his penthouse, Ethan spread Naomi's documents across his desk, his enhanced intelligence absorbing every detail. His fingers traced patterns in the financial reports that made his eyes narrow with recognition when spotting something off.

"The rot goes deeper,"

he muttered, body tensing as each file revealed darker secrets - money laundering through production budgets, talented actors being blacklisted, writers threatened into silence.

His enhanced vision caught details others would miss: smudged signatures on forced contracts, timestamps on security footage showing late-night "meetings" with terrified creatives, bank transfers that vanished into shadow accounts.

"Time to see it firsthand,"

he murmured, reaching for his phone. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen as he composed the message to Naomi.

The entertainment company received notice: the Godly Investor's personal supervisor would be conducting an inspection today.

Ethan stood before his mirror, watching his features shift subtly - a slight change in posture, a different glint in his eyes. The perfect corporate overseer persona taking shape. His fingers smoothed his tie with practiced precision.

"They'll see what I want them to see"

he thought, selecting one of his alternate identities.

"Just another suit coming to evaluate their operation" His lips curved into a slight smile as he adjusted his cufflinks.

"Let them scramble to hide their secrets while I watch"

The bracelet hummed against his wrist, eager for the coming performance, while his enhanced senses thrummed with anticipation of the hunt.

"Naomi would have handle this perfectly"

Ethan thought, watching his reflection adjust its tie. His enhanced vision caught every micro-expression as he practiced his corporate.

She'd shown her brilliance restructuring his other acquisitions, but her schedule was packed - meetings with big players of others of his company, consolidating their growing empire, building their hidden network.

"Besides,"

he murmured to his reflection, shoulders straightening imperceptibly.

"This needs my personal touch and I'm not going to leave any stone untouched. "

His fingers moved through the air with practiced grace, opening his status window. The numbers glowed in his enhanced vision, each digit carrying the weight of potential power.

[Current Assets: 150 Billion]

[Required for Next Evolution: 200 Billion]

[Remaining Goal: 50 Billion]

The power thrumming through his veins intensified at the sight of those numbers.

without being told he could tell his next evolution who transformed him into something further beyond human limitation.

His fingers traced the glowing figures, remembering how it felt when his strength, speed, and intelligence multiplied tenfold.

"Just fifty billion more."

He said to himself, his enhanced mind racing through calculations and possibilities. His eyes gleamed with predatory anticipation in the mirror. The entertainment industry cleanup might not generate that level of profit immediately, but like a master chess player, he could see how this move would position him for something far more lucrative.

His enhanced intelligence processed countless scenarios simultaneously, mapping paths to that final evolution threshold, each possibility branching into new opportunities.

At that moment Status windows faded as Ethan's thoughts drifted to tomorrow's schedule.

His fingers loosened his tie with practiced grace, each movement precise despite his growing weariness. School activities would demand his attention first - a mask of normalcy before he dove into the entertainment industry's darkness.

His enhanced mind, despite its power, wandered to softer thoughts.

At that moment Serenity's face appeared in his memory, their last conversation replaying with perfect clarity.

The way her hands had trembled slightly when speaking of her aunt, the worry lines around her eyes that she tried to hide.

"I should check on her,"

he murmured to the empty penthouse, his voice carrying unexpected gentleness. His reflection in the window showed a brief flicker of concern crossing his usually controlled features.

Moving through his penthouse, his bare feet silent on the marble floors, the lights twinkled below like fallen stars. Such simple concerns - school, friends, family - seemed almost quaint now.

"Tomorrow brings another performance"

he thought, shoulders relaxing as he settled into his bed.

"Student by day, corporate inquisitor by afternoon"

A slight smile played at his lips at the duality of his existence.

" I have made many mistakes in the past, but now I'm better and I will make the right decision and be a better person from now on."

He said with a calm face.

" I need to deliver justice to the entertainment company first then I would move to the rest, one by one all of the bad eggs would be destroyed."

Ethan said to himself with a determined face as he walked into the room to take a nap.

**

In the Silver family's mansion,

Old Master Silver decided to give his instruction to the shadow elite himself.

The assassin stood like a shadow given form. His black clothes seemed to absorb the light, making even his movements appear liquid and dangerous. Not a single expression crossed his perfectly controlled face.

"One week, maximum,"

he said, his voice carrying the cold precision of a blade. Each word measured, calculated.

"Anyone who could eliminate Raymond and Giovanni deserves... careful consideration."

His eyes, dark as obsidian, analyzed potential scenarios. Your next journey awaits at empire

At that moment Old Master Silver's fingers tightened on his jade-headed cane until his knuckles whitened.

"Too long,"

he growled, aged face contorting with impatience.

Noah, face still bearing marks of his ordeal - bruised cheeks, split lip, hollow eyes - suddenly lurched forward from his corner. His designer clothes hung loose on his frame, evidence of his warehouse imprisonment still visible in his gaunt appearance.

"You don't need five days,"

his voice trembled with barely contained rage, hands shaking as he gestured.

"I know his schedule, his habits." His eyes gleamed with fevered intensity, darting around the room like a cornered animal.

"I can deliver him to you tomorrow."

The assassin's head tilted slightly, a barely perceptible movement that somehow carried deadly interest. Even his slight shift in posture made the air feel colder.

Master Silver watched his son's transformation from victim to hunter with grim satisfaction, noting how trauma had stripped away his heir's pampered facade, leaving something harder, darker.

At that moment Noah's trembling fingers traced the bruises on his wrists, memories of rope burns fueling his hatred. Each touch seemed to stoke his rage higher. "Tomorrow,"

he repeated, voice dropping to a whisper that carried more menace than a shout.

"I'll hand him to you myself."