My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible Chapter 516 A Problem

Liam lay on his bed with his Lucid turned on, browsing LucidNet.

Reactions to the pre-order had fallen into their usual rhythm. One post after another showed folks mourning four straight months of no luck, each phrasing the disappointment in a fresh manner.

A thread caught his eye, titled "Month 4 and I remain deviceless. An ongoing tragedy." It boasted forty thousand replies, mostly just one word: You and us both, brother.

A subtle smile played on his lips as he scrolled through them.

Suddenly, the post appeared.

Two confirmation emails displayed side by side. One for a Lucid. One for Lucid Air. Both timestamps came from the same night, just minutes apart.

Liam halted his scrolling.

He scanned the post two times. Next, he examined the screenshot emails closely, verifying the layout, domain, and confirmation codes. They checked out. Real ones, both.

He leaned back.

Beating the odds for even one device in a pre-order lottery was practically impossible amid hundreds of millions of entries. Landing both on the same night from different queues? That was more theory than math.

Lucy's validation setup had zero known loopholes. Liam knew this from his own creation, not hearsay. The Lucid setup used a unique programming framework unlike anything on Earth—not an upgrade of old code but a fresh build from basics. Bots flopped because the system handled requests in an alien way, leaving no hooks for exploits. The queue defied standard automation entirely.

So the screenshot poster had pulled off pure, ridiculous, statistically defying luck.

He checked the replies under the post. Thousands poured in quicker than the count could refresh. A few offered congrats. Most dripped with that unique hopelessness sparked by luck so wild it felt targeted.

"I refuse to accept this person is real."

"What did you do. What did you sacrifice. Tell me everything."

"I've been awake since 11 PM for this. I'm going back to sleep. Congratulations I guess."

In his solitary room, Liam chuckled softly.

Scroll he continued.

The Transparency Report popped up minutes after release, its notification hitting his feed like everyone else's. He tapped it open casually, reading from exec summary to final words, pausing midway in the creator economy part to double-back on the figures.

Truth be told, company finances had never grabbed his full focus. Lucy managed platform ops, backend, and the core ecosystem. Daniel oversaw his personal cash and family office. Together, they kept Nova Technologies' business engine humming without his hands-on input.

He hadn't dodged the details on purpose. They just hadn't crossed his radar.

Now, his gaze was fixed.

$6.32 billion from viewer gifts. $595 million in-game buys. $2.5 billion net revenue. All in month four. From a launch with two thousand units and one announcement.

Twice he reviewed the creator payout table. The lowest fifty percent—ten thousand creators—pocketed $48,000 to $720,000 apiece in one month. That set an annual floor of $576,000. For the bottom rung.

He pondered that stat briefly.

The debut Transparency Report came back to him. Lucy drafted, posted, and briefed him quick. He noted the big numbers and shifted gears amid seventeen other fires that week. Month two echoed that. Month three? Skipped entirely.

Now, absorbing it fully for the first time—it hit hard.

Pride didn't capture it. He'd crafted this beast, yielding these results through deliberate choices: value spread wide, not hoarded; creator cut at seventy percent since sixty fell short and eighty doomed viability. Four months of those calls stacking up.

Reaction threads drew him in. Finance whiz reeling from the bottom earners' baseline. Someone needing fresh air post-median income smackdown. An economist murmuring about unknowable infra costs versus revenue.

That last one earned his grin.

Deeper scroll led to the comment.

Forza is absolutely fucked.

240,000 likes. Replies? Near-unanimous nods, no frills.

The report had flagged the name. Eternal Realms top streamer. $116 million that month. He'd clocked it in gaming stats and kept moving.

This time, he paused.

User file summoned, unfolding neatly on his Lucid, Lucy's signature style.

He devoured it once. Then again.

Forza: sixteen years old. Shared home with parents in a midsize spot near Barcelona. Real name listed, but Liam skipped it—the handle pick merited honor.

Four months netted Forza $165 million. $6.7 million debut month, marking early elite status. Sixteen when the first pre-order hit.

$165 million. Sixteen. Parents' place in Spain.

Liam placed his Lucid aside, staring upward momentarily.

Money itself posed no issue—legit, hard-earned. The real headaches loomed around it: bridging teen grasp of finance to nine-figure reality, plus youth's soft spots once publicized.

240,000 likes on that comment. Transparency named Forza. Savvy eyes could link handle to kid fast. Maybe already in motion.

File reopened, withdrawal checked.

Forza untouched a dime. Top earners mostly same—funds piled in platform vaults, ballooning from abstract to urgent.

Nova Technologies held over $5 billion in pending creator payouts.

That sum screamed risk. Peak earners, with wildest hauls, lacked the life prep to handle them. Pre-platform normals, skilled and charismatic, now scaled to uncharted wealth sans guide.

No one prepped them. Nothing could've before launch.

Funds sat idle, ripe for sharks eyeing creators' blind spots.

Forza weighed heavy. Sixteen. Parents likely clueless too. No advisors, no setups, no tax maps across borders, no shields for young public rich.

Kid banked $165 million via game prowess and watchability.

He ought to retain every cent. But retention demanded unseen infrastructure.

This fell to him. Platform birthed chance; now it must shield its stars.

Bad calls from naivety could sour creator ties, ecosystem health, his creation.

Not the core driver, though.

Simpler: ensure a Spanish teen's $165 million game fortune transforms life right, not wrecks it from lack of guidance.

Liam fired off a call to Daniel right away.