Dress as you want to be addressed

After the pleasantries, the lady and her team began hanging clothes in the wardrobe while some of them worked on what David would wear to school.

A few minutes later, David found himself in a surprisingly well-fitting suit. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate for school, though.

"A nice three-piece will always bring out the best in a man," the lady said as she moved around him, fixing and smoothing out the clothes.

Looking at himself in the mirror, David wouldn't say he considered himself handsome. If anything, he thought of himself as pretty average. However, even he couldn't deny it—the suit was stunning, and he looked magnificent in it.

"Huh... I never thought I'd look good in green," David said, impressed, as he turned to examine himself more closely.

There was a saying: 'Dress the way you want to be addressed.' Now, he doubted anyone would look down on him. He wasn't all that smart, but he knew he'd never give anyone a reason to look down on him.

"Of course, you'll look good! With such a handsome face, you can pull off anything you wear," the lady said, smiling from ear to ear.

"Really?" David replied, pretending to believe her.

He may have been single for most of his life, but he could swear he'd been friend-zoned by more girls than he could count, and none of them had ever said he was handsome.

He wasn't delusional—he looked good in the suit, but by conventional standards, he wasn't what you'd call handsome.

"Of course," the lady replied.

"I see... Oh, I'll be late for school!" David said, picking up his new bag.

Almost as soon as he picked it up, he began second-guessing his decision to wear a suit to school. Truthfully, it would immediately establish his status as a wealthy man at school, which he wanted most of all.

After all, his status wasn't just that of a rich man now—he was essentially the president of a country. If he dressed casually, people might misbehave around him. However, it was slightly uncomfortable.

David sighed before hanging the bag over his shoulder. There was nothing he could do about it; he just had to get used to it.

"I'm leaving!" David announced to the lady and her assistants before leaving the room.

Outside, David immediately found the butler standing and waiting for him. The man stood there, clearly admiring the suit, boosting David's confidence.

It was one thing for a lady to tell you that you looked good, but it was something else for another man to admire your attire.

"Mr. George?" David asked, breaking the slight awkwardness.

"The car is waiting if you're ready, sir," George replied, gesturing for David to follow him.

Minutes later, David was led downstairs, and as he stepped out of the house, he saw the convoy of three cars waiting for him: a black van, filled with equipment and guarded by around five armed people; a Rolls-Royce Phantom Extended, which he'd learned about the previous night; and finally, the front car, an Inkas Armored Bentley Bentayga—a car he'd barely heard of before.

He hadn't known it was armored until he saw the door, which was thicker than expected, indicating the vehicle's added protection. It seemed that the World Bank took his security seriously.

"Good morning, all," David said cheerfully, waving at the group standing guard around the vehicles.

"Good morning, sir," the driver replied as he reached out to take David's bag.

"How was your night?" David asked as the man took the bag and opened the door for him.

"It was fine, sir," the driver replied.

Soon, the driver placed the bag on the other side of the back seat and got into the driver's seat, and the convoy drove off. Inside the car, David thought about the best way to achieve his plan if everything went as he expected.

"So, sir, any plans for today?" the driver asked.

"I'm a homebody; I don't do plans," David replied.

"Ah, I see," the man said, turning his attention back to the road.

Meanwhile, David was on his phone, his fingers typing away, fully engrossed in what he was doing, with a wide smile on his face.

"So, it is possible after all," David noted as his smile grew even wider.

With a smile, he returned to his AI chat model, ChatGPT. While the AI couldn't generate original ideas, it was incredibly helpful in organizing his thoughts.

As his friends had confirmed, he could carry out his plan, but having a plan in mind and knowing how to execute it were two different things.

Opening the app, he saw his conversation from the previous day. Reviewing it, David almost laughed—he had asked the AI for the best ways to spend his money, and looking back, it had provided many great options.

"Paying off national debts... that could work too," David whispered, nodding to himself.

Though investment was the first option, paying off debt was a close second, and he had to admit, it was tempting.

Nigeria alone had about 100 billion USD in debt, and if he wanted, he could pay off other African nations' debts as well. This would give him immense influence and control over these countries.

However, he couldn't go down that route for a couple of reasons: firstly, his contract specifically prohibited it, and secondly, he wanted to create generational wealth for his family.

While his capital might have come to him through unusual means, he intended to put it to good use, build assets, and live as lavishly as possible.

With David lost in thought, the cars sped down the road with minimal obstacles, and soon, they arrived in front of his department. Like the day before, people gathered at the car park as soon as they saw the convoy approaching.

"Sir, please stay inside the car while the security team ensures there's no threat," the driver said.

"Okay, thank you," David replied, watching as the various armed guards sprang into action.

His bodyguards created a human barricade between the students and the car, while the specialist team blended into the crowd, going about their business in a way that left David guessing at how they did their job.

...

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