CHAPTER 98: DANIEL’S RESIGNATION

"Yeah," Liam nodded. "Tell me more about it."

"The wallet works. Stela works. The marketplace works. But..." Lucy said and paused. "How will users purchase more Stela once they burn through their initial allocation?"

Liam leaned back against the headboard. That was it. The missing piece. It was so simple it almost felt insulting. It was something that he should had thought about from the beginning.

Under normal circumstances, Lucy would had already fixed this on her own but due to a specific instruction from Liam, telling her that he doesn’t want any third-party connection to the device, she couldn’t do that.

Naturally, users would run out of their starter balance quickly. Between Terra’s sprawling economy, Eternal Realms’ gold-hungry progression and the massive economic activities on all the games, users would burn through their wallet balance in almost no time. And when they do, they would want to buy more.

Which meant linking the wallet to real-world money and allowing them to be able to purchase more Stela with it.

And for something like this, old rails of finance — credit and debit cards, and others — will be needed.

And that was where the problem began. Those rails are third-party connection and Liam doesn’t want them.

As for the reason why Liam doesn’t want them? It would mean full visibility. Every deposit and also potentially withdrawals would have to go through those institutions. And that also meant users data and an extra layer of fee.

Liam isn’t trying to replace either traditional banks or planning anything illegal. He wasn’t interested in gray markets or laundering or backroom financial shadows.

But he refused to let the Gear Glass ecosystem be tethered like a dog on a leash. He understood that being chained to rails he doesn’t control will spell trouble for him in the future, and he wants to take care of that now.

From the very beginning, he needed independence. It wasn’t about hiding crimes. It was about sovereignty.

"So we build our own rails," Liam said at last.

"Yes, sir," Lucy replied. "I’ve already begun sketching the framework."

The solution was elegant. Instead of plugging into those institutions’ APIs, users would link their accounts directly through Lucy’s financial pipeline.

All they would need to do was input their account number and verify it with a retina and neural scan, confirming the information linked to their identity in their bank’s database.

As for how Lucy will access those financial institutions’ databases? Well, she will access them without asking for permission.

But since the transaction will go through traditional clearing houses like ACH, there was nothing to worth about.

"Alright. Let’s talk fees," Liam said, as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Of course, sir."

This was another crucial part since they are building their own pipeline.

"Casual users should feel like it’s free," Liam said. "Give them a monthly free transaction limit — say, one thousand dollars. Beyond that, charge tiny fees. Half a percent, maybe one percent at most. Minimum deposit and withdrawal will be ten dollars."

"I see that you don’t want users to feel no friction until they cross into heavy use," Lucy said.

"Exactly. Since we want this to spread fast and seamlessly. The last thing I want is people complaining about hidden charges," Liam said.

He exhaled softly as he tried to realistically imagined how fast the device the device will sell, and how fast it will take for it to cross the milestones he will be setting of it.

He was still thinking of that when another thought struck him, and he sat up straighter.

"Lucy... streaming."

"Yes, sir. I considered that as well."

The words made Liam chuckle softly. How could he have forgotten? Of course people would want to stream their experiences. Terra, Eternal Realms, the PvP shooter — the sheer realism alone would create a new streaming revolution.

But just like other third-party connections which, streaming platforms like Twitch, YouTube, Facebook Gaming won’t be allowed on the device.

"We will make our own streaming platform," Liam said.

"It is already under design," Lucy confirmed. "The streaming service will be binded directly to user accounts. All data, all viewers, all transactions will stay within the ecosystem."

"And the gifts?" Liam asked.

"Custom-designed, with value tiers," Lucy replied smoothly. "Users can purchase gifts with Stela and send them to streamers. The ecosystem will automatically convert them to account balance."

"Perfect," Liam smiled.

He sat back, satisfaction warming his chest. The ecosystem was almost frightening in its infancy stage but it will become a colossal monster at its completion stage.

**"

Meanwhile, JP Morgan Headquarters, New York City.

The glass towers of Park Avenue gleamed under the morning sun as Daniel Conley stepped into the marble lobby. His suit was immaculate, his strided were steady, but his heart was heavier than he let anyone see.

He moved through security with a nod, past familiar faces who smiled at him and he smiled back.

The private banking floor greeted him with soft lighting, polished wood, and hushed tones. He returned greetings with polite smiles, but his steps carried him directly to his superior’s office.

A knock, then the quiet voice from inside: "Come in."

Daniel opened the door.

Seated behind the desk was Jocelyn Fletcher, Managing Director of Private Banking. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise when she saw him.

"Daniel," she said warmly. "What brings you here? I wasn’t expecting you."

He smiled faintly and closed the door behind him. "Good morning, Jocelyn."

"Good morning," she said, gesturing for him to sit. "Go ahead."

He took his seat, smoothing his tie. His smile was steady, but there was a tension beneath it, the kind Jocelyn’s sharp eyes didn’t miss.

"So," she said carefully. "What’s on your mind?"

Daniel drew in a slow breath, then exhaled. He didn’t dance around it.

"I want to resign."

Jocelyn froze, her expression slipping into disbelief. For a second, she wondered if she’d misheard him.

"...Excuse me?"

Daniel repeated, steady and clear. "I want to resign. Effective immediately."

The office fell into silence. Jocelyn blinked, then frowned.

"Daniel," she said slowly, "you do realize the position you’re in? With the client you’re handling, your future here is—"

"I know," Daniel interrupted gently. "And it’s not about dissatisfaction. Nothing happened between me and the client. I’m resigning for personal reasons. To pursue another opportunity."

Her eyes narrowed, then softened. She studied his face carefully, and then, slowly, she nodded.

"I see."

There was more she could ask. More she wanted to ask. But the way Daniel sat there, calm and resolute, told her the truth: this wasn’t a decision made lightly.

Jocelyn leaned back in her chair, then smiled, though her eyes carried weight. "In that case... I wish you the best. Go submit your letter to HR. And Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"Good luck," she said sincerely.

He rose, bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Jocelyn. For everything."

Minutes later, Daniel stepped out of the HR department, the letter had been filed and the process was now official.

When he exited the building, the cool Manhattan air hit his face. He paused on the sidewalk, inhaling deeply. Then he smiled.

It wasn’t relief exactly. It was conviction.

He pulled out his phone, scrolled briefly through his contacts, and pressed the name he had been thinking about since last night.

The line rang once, then clicked.

"Mr. Scott..."