Chapter 5: A son...a brother

After leaving the Wayne Enterprises building, I headed to the nearest bookstore. After purchasing textbooks on programming and computer technology and placing all the books in my inventory, I set out to find the next store.

That day, I visited about a dozen libraries. In each one, I selected books and manuals on programming and creating computer games that weren't available in the previous stores. Altogether, about 1.5 thousand materials had accumulated in my inventory. I decided to dedicate the entire next week to studying this extensive collection.

[Wayne Manor]

The entire Bat-family had gathered in the grand house: Batman—Bruce Wayne, Nightwing—Dick Grayson, Batgirl—Barbara Gordon, and the irreplaceable butler, Alfred Pennyworth. At the moment, all their attention was fixed on the books.

"These books are incredible! Their author is a true genius!" Barbara said, her admiration unhidden. "'Harry Potter' and 'The Lord of the Rings' are masterpieces of the fantasy genre. I can't wait for the sequels!"

"I think I'll agree—they're very interesting," Alfred said, supporting her.

"That's an understatement!" Dick interjected, shifting his gaze to his mentor. Bruce continued reading silently. Since everyone else had already finished the four books, Bruce eventually put the sheets of paper aside and decided to share his thoughts.

"Yes, I'm quite impressed. These books are unlike anything published before. They have a unique charm—they're engaging, the plots are captivating, and you can't help but want to read more."

"That 'unusual' homeless man wrote them, right?" Nightwing asked, his eyes still on the sheets of paper.

"Yes, and apparently, he wrote all these books in less than three weeks," Bruce replied.

"Seriously? That's… amazing! I can't even imagine how his brain works. I really want to meet him," Barbara said cheerfully. "Not just the fantasy books—these two detective novels are equally impressive!"

"That's true," Dick agreed. "When I read 'Ten Little Indians,' I couldn't figure out who the criminal was until the very end. Most books in this genre fail to create such intrigue or make the reader think, doubt, or guess. In them, you often figure out who the killer is almost immediately—or worse, it's outright revealed at the beginning, which completely ruins the investigative spirit."

"That's right, that's right!" Barbara nodded. "And this poem—it's pure brilliance. The judge managed to devise such a scheme to eliminate all the island's inhabitants in accordance with the verse:

Ten little Indians gathered to have dinner,

One suddenly choked—and there were nine left.

Nine little Indians, having eaten, nodded off,

One didn't wake up—and there were eight left.

Eight little Indians traveled to Devon,

One decided to stay—and there were seven left.

Seven little Indians chopped wood together,

One hacked himself to death—and there were six left.

Six little Indians went to the apiary,

One got stung by a bee—and there were five left.

Five little Indians held a trial,

They condemned one—and there were four left.

Four little Indians went swimming in the sea,

One got caught in the tide—and there were three left.

Three little Indians ended up in a menagerie,

One was grabbed by a bear—and there were two left.

Two little Indians lay in the sun,

One burned up—and there was one left.

The last little Indian, feeling tired,

Hanged himself—and there were none."

"Quite original," Bruce commented. "But I think the final book stands out for its unique qualities."

"Are you referring to the method of deduction?"

"Yes. The term 'deduction' is widely known, and descriptions of the method are easily accessible online. However, if you ask the average person to explain it, they'll likely draw a blank."

"Bruce, you studied deduction?" asked Nightwing.

"Yes, but it has always been a method that people viewed skeptically, as it's hard to demonstrate convincingly. A book about Sherlock Holmes, however, can effectively showcase how deduction works," Bruce concluded, scanning the room with a penetrating gaze.

"Master Bruce, what decision have you made regarding the release of the first print run?" Alfred asked.

"You said he requested three million copies for each book?" Dick asked.

"When I first heard that, I thought he was insane. But now, I think it might not be such a bad idea," Bruce admitted, surprising the room. Everyone looked at Gotham's Dark Knight with curiosity.

Well, this week has been quite productive. An employee from Wayne Enterprises visited me to finalize the contract. Bruce agreed to release the first print run of three million copies. Apparently, he liked my books. To be honest, I didn't expect that outcome.

I've gone through an impressive number of books and now understand the general essence of programming. I can confidently say I've achieved significant progress in this area. What puzzles me, though, is that I haven't received any notification of an intelligence increase from the system.

If my suspicions are correct, this attribute can only be improved using free points. This system truly has its flaws. At least physical efforts yield measurable results.

+2 Strength.

+2 Speed.

+2 Agility.

+3 Endurance.

+1 Charisma.

These are the notifications I received this week, and I couldn't be happier. So, what else is new? Oh, yes—today, all the bookstore shelves will be stocked with my books.

They've finally gone on sale. The great news is that Wayne Enterprises actively promoted my works. I'm not sure why they went all out, but I'm grateful. Thank you, Bruce—you're a true friend. Thanks to their efforts, my books have become some of the most anticipated releases. My debut has exceeded all expectations.

I think it's time to establish my own company—or rather, a small game production enterprise. After all, every great venture starts small.

The next day, I began negotiations to lease a workspace. In a relatively decent area of a business center, the entire twelfth floor was available for rent. I couldn't let the opportunity slip by. After a preliminary inspection, I was satisfied. All 200 square meters were available for $35,000 a month—a steep price, no doubt. Still, I signed a six-month contract.

Now that I had secured a location, I needed to name the organization and prepare the necessary documents for registration. After a week of effort, I became the proud owner of Alex Enterprises.

It's a bold name for a fledgling company, but I'm thinking big. Soon, this name will resonate around the world! For now, though, I need to focus on equipping the offices. I've ordered five of the most powerful computers currently available for purchase.

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Each of them cost me 100 thousand dollars. I purchased the necessary inventory, office equipment, and began arranging the premises.

[A/N: Yes, some computers can cost this much.]

All this cost me another 300 thousand. Now, the most important task remained: recruiting a staff. I don't think it will be too difficult—Gotham is full of unemployed individuals. Moreover, creating games is far from being a profitable field here, so I doubt those who studied for this career could find suitable work.

Paul Diaz was an ordinary resident of Gotham City. He had graduated from college a year ago and was now struggling to find a job. Unfortunately, his chosen specialty made things far from easy. Paul was a certified game programmer, capable of developing computer games or related software.

He had chosen this profession years ago, believing that by the time he graduated, the gaming industry would have experienced a major leap forward, allowing him to fully showcase his talents. Unfortunately, this didn't happen, and he now deeply regretted his choice.

Paul primarily survived by taking freelance jobs from an online platform. The site regularly posted small orders, which were paid upon completion. He worked on minor assignments posted by game companies, most of which involved debugging existing software. His efforts earned him an average of 300 to 400 dollars a month, with lucky months yielding up to 500 dollars.

It was barely enough to cover basic expenses. Additionally, Paul had to care for his elderly mother, who used to contribute to the family by working at a store but had become bedridden due to illness. The financial burden fell squarely on his shoulders.

Paul's father had passed away five years ago. He had been caught in a gang fight while returning home late one night and tragically lost his life in the crossfire. Since then, Paul had also taken responsibility for his younger sister, who had just started high school. She had offered to drop out and find work to support the family, believing she was a burden. However, Paul had managed to convince her otherwise.

"You're too young for that," he had told her, promising he would find a better job soon. He didn't want her to miss out on her education.

This situation, however, constantly weighed on him. He needed to buy medicine for his mother, pay for his sister's schooling, and manage their living expenses. As luck would have it, this month had been particularly slow—he hadn't received a single decent freelance order. He'd managed to save only 100 dollars.

Paul came home that day feeling defeated. A warm meal, prepared by his sister, awaited him in the kitchen. With their mother bedridden, his sister had taken over the household chores.

"Brother, you're back! Come sit; I've already set the table," she greeted him warmly as she placed plates on the table.

Paul adored his sister and desperately wished to see her happy, never wanting her smile to fade. After finishing every bite of the dinner she had made and thanking her for the effort, he headed to his room.

Turning on his computer, he logged into the freelance site, hoping to find a worthwhile order. However, his attention was drawn to a notification indicating a new message.

At first, he thought it was spam. Paul didn't have any friends or a girlfriend, so he couldn't imagine who might be writing to him. Nevertheless, he opened the message and began reading its contents.

To his astonishment, the message was an invitation to interview at a newly established game development company.

He reread the email multiple times to ensure it was real. Convinced it was legitimate, his heart swelled with hope.

Paul knew that even if the company was brand new and couldn't pay as well as established firms, he could still expect a stable salary of 800 or even 900 dollars a month. This income would significantly improve their standard of living.

Months earlier, Paul had uploaded his resume to a job site, where companies could browse candidates for vacant positions. Given his limited work experience, he hadn't expected anyone to contact him.

That night, Paul barely slept. He alternated between excitement, thinking this could be his big break, and doubt, fearing he might be setting himself up for disappointment. He couldn't shake the feeling that his modest resume might not impress the interviewer.

Morning came, and Paul got ready. He put on a dress suit he had bought six months ago, scraping together the money for it in hopes of making a good impression during interviews. Unfortunately, those interviews hadn't yielded results.

Thinking about his previous rejections, Paul prayed that this time would be different. As he made his way to Alex Enterprises, he pondered the common paradox of job hunting—employers demanded experience, yet no one was willing to give him a chance to gain any.

When Paul arrived, he took the elevator to the specified floor. At the reception desk sat a friendly-looking young woman who greeted him with a warm smile.

"Good morning. How can I assist you?" she asked.

Paul introduced himself and explained that he had an interview scheduled.

"Ah, yes," she said, gesturing toward a door labeled Alex Reath. "They're expecting you."

Paul approached the door and, before opening it, gave a polite knock.

"Come in," came a voice from inside.

Stepping in, Paul saw a young man seated at the desk.

"Hello," the man greeted him. "Are you here for the interview?"

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"Huh? Um, yes. Hello, my name is Paul Diaz…" Paul was stunned when he realized that the founder and head of this gaming company was sitting right in front of him. He looks even younger than I am, Paul thought, subtly assessing his potential employer. The young man asked Diaz basic questions—questions any decent programmer, not a complete novice, could easily answer.

"Well, Paul... You're just what I need. I'm ready to hire you. What do you think?" Hearing those words, Paul felt an overwhelming rush of emotion. He had done it! He had found a job! "Thank you, sir! I won't disappoint you!"

"I believe you won't," the young man replied. "Now, let me tell you about the job. Besides you, there will be six others working here. It's a small team, but for now, it's enough. The primary goal of our company is to release a mobile game, and then we'll move on to a full-scale computer game. I'll personally handle most of the work, and at the start, you'll assist me. As you gain more experience, you'll take on a more prominent role in the development. With time, you could even get a promotion, just like the people who helped me build this company from the ground up. Any questions?"

"N-no, sir, I understand everything," Paul replied, offering a strained smile. He was relieved to have a job, even if it meant starting out as just an assistant. A promotion seemed far off, but it was still better than his current situation.

"Now let's talk about your salary... $10,000 a month. Does that sound good?"

Paul thought he must have misheard. "Um, sorry, I didn't hear you. How much did you say?"

"$10,000 a month. And in the future, this amount may increase."

"Isn't that... too much?" Paul hesitated, feeling a sense of doubt creeping in. $10,000? Even in the top gaming companies, the best programmers earned at most $5,000. Yet here, he was being offered double that amount, with the possibility of a promotion. Something didn't add up.

"I understand your hesitation," the young man said, his voice confident. "But I want to tell you that my company is different. I truly believe that, in the near future, we'll rise above the competition. And when people ask me how much I paid my employees when I first started out, I don't want to say, 'Oh, about $500.' I want them to know that I valued my team from the start." Listening to the young man's confident words, Paul couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. He wanted to believe that the future he was speaking of would come soon.

That evening, Paul returned home, elated. He hugged his mother and sister, excited to share the good news. His employer had been kind enough to pay him half of his salary in advance—$5,000.

His mother and sister burst into tears, overwhelmed with gratitude. They silently prayed for Alex's well-being, the man who had given their family a chance at a better life. Seeing their happiness, Paul made a vow to always remember his new boss's kindness. Alex had become their benefactor, someone they would never forget.

[A/N: $5,000 might seem small for a game developer, but in this world, the field isn't very profitable.]

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