Trevor, I know you well enough. Everything here is luxurious, including the lingerie. That Hermès bag costs fifty thousand dollars, and this ribbed sweater costs thirty thousand. Even if you washed laundry for the basketball team for a year, you still wouldn't afford a thing!"

Dennis's tone dripped with sarcasm as he gestured at the store's displays. Some items were so expensive even he couldn't afford them, let alone Trevor, who eked out a living with part-time jobs.

Trevor's face flushed with embarrassment, but he remained silent. He thought, "Yes, I was a poor loser, agonizing for half a day over spending a hundred dollars. But now, I have a hundred million dollars. If I withdrew it now, the cash alone would overwhelm you, Dennis. You're the poor loser now."

He snorted, surveying the luxury goods before settling on an exquisite perfume. "Didn't you say I couldn't afford anything here? Let me show you who's the real poor loser! Excuse me, I'll buy this perfume."

"Oh, you've played billionaire so much you think you are one, right? I've seen plenty of poor losers like you pretending to be rich in places like this. This is Hermès's most sought-after limited-edition fragrance—over three hundred thousand dollars! Even selling your organs wouldn't cover it!"

Even the sales assistant was rude, treating Trevor like a beggar, not a customer.

After hearing the price, Trevor, hands trembling slightly, produced his card. How much bread could he buy with that money! But rage overrode reason. "Take this, and charge it!" He thrust the card at the assistant, who hesitated before taking it and going to the counter.

"Trevor, you're a garbage collector! Can't you control yourself? Obsessed with pretending to be rich? Security! This man's causing trouble. If his card's no good, break his legs and throw him out!"

Dennis's eyes blazed with contempt. Trevor, a garbage collector, dared to defy him?

"He's a scavenger, pretending to be rich! Break his legs and take him to the station! He'll get free meals in prison—saving him money and garbage-collecting efforts!" Sylvia sneered, glad she hadn't chosen Trevor.

The commotion drew everyone's attention. The security guard, rubber stick at the ready, stood by the door. Silence fell as everyone watched the transaction.

The assistant swiped Trevor's card; the process was agonizingly slow. Suddenly, the register beeped: payment successful. Three hundred thousand dollars received.

"Payment successful. Three hundred thousand dollars received," the automated voice announced.

The assistant was stunned. "Really? It actually had that much money!"

Trevor instantly became the center of attention. The assistant, now enthusiastic, packed the perfume, her pale cleavage briefly visible, causing Trevor to blush. He took the perfume and card, quickly averting his gaze. While he saw the power of wealth, he was also disgusted by its effect on people.

Dennis and Sylvia were shocked. They knew Trevor's struggles; how could he afford three hundred thousand dollars?