Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs

Chapter 765: Trillion Dream Mission and New Missions



Chapter 765: Trillion Dream Mission and New Missions



Looking at my women’s progress through the Women Care ability, a deep, quiet pride settled in my chest like warm iron. They had money now—more than enough to never work another day if they chose.


Security. Luxury.


The kind of life where they could lounge in silk robes, sip champagne at sunrise, and watch the world spin while I carried every burden. They’d never know poverty again, never feel the bite of any kind of lack for the rest of their lives; be it any luxury or mind-blowing sex.


But they didn’t choose that.


Not one of them.


They’d decided—every single one—to keep learning, to devour knowledge like it was oxygen, to build right beside me even though they didn’t have to lift a finger. They weren’t content being carried like precious cargo. They grew their own wings, their own claws, their own empires.


All I had to do was give them the first push, the first spark of system knowledge through ARIA and her own AGI intelligence, and they rocketed toward the stratosphere.


"My sweethearts..." I whispered to the dark room, voice rough with something bigger than affection—something that felt like worship. My love for them didn’t just grow; it fucking multiplied, exponential, unstoppable.


Each one was carving her name into the Liberation Empire with her bare hands.


I pulled up Charlotte’s stats again.


Even now the system still listed her as one of "my women." She loved me—I felt it every time her eyes lingered too long, every time her fingers brushed mine and stayed. But she hadn’t let herself cross that final line.


Hadn’t let me say the words back. Hadn’t let herself become part of the harem the way the others had.


She wasn’t jealous of them, never had been.


She just... wasn’t ready? Not yet.


I wanted to go to her room right now, wake her gently, tell her the threat was gone—Sable’s deal sealed, Rivera’s announcement broadcast, the CIA scrambling like headless chickens. She was safe. Truly safe. No more shadows hunting her genius.


But it was past 2 a.m. I wouldn’t cross that boundary with her, not without invitation.


One of the few hard lines I’d drawn for myself where Charlotte was concerned.


She probably already knew anyway. The news would’ve hit her feeds by now.


[Mission Completed!]


The notification hovered at the edge of my vision, asking if I wanted to claim the rewards. I ignored it for now. The 100,000 SP had already dropped into my balance, pushing me over the 1,000,000 SP milestone.


The real prize—the mystery box—would wait. The system had been very clear: open it only when I reached the mansion.


Whatever was inside demanded absolute secrecy?


The OnlyCeleb club mission still sat unfinished in the queue. I hadn’t cracked it. Membership required genuine celebrity status, and no amount of money or hacking could fake the verification protocols.


I refused to mark it failed, though.


There was always a loophole—I just hadn’t had the bandwidth to hunt for it yet. I hadn’t given it my all.


What gnawed at me most was Liberation Medical.


I’d pitched it to Luna as a fusion of her emergency-medicine revolution and cutting-edge biotech. But the Carter name... that carried weight deeper than blood. It wasn’t just a surname; it was legacy, promise, something I had carried like a vow even before the system found him.


I’d briefly toyed with branding it Carter Bios—honoring that ghost—but no.


Anastasia and Luna wouldn’t mind; they’d probably be thrilled. Still, it felt wrong to tether their work to a name that wasn’t theirs to carry. Liberation Medical would stand on its own. Pure. Unburdened. The Carter legacy... I’d find another way to honor it.


Something bigger.


I exhaled slowly. Then...


[DING! MISSION GENERATED...]


[Mission:Building Liberation Empire into the most powerful business empire in the whole world!]


[Requirements:Establish a dominant presence in every legitimate sector and industry—no drugs, no trafficking, no non-consensual harm to any human being. Liberation must be the undisputed leader in each field.]


[Timeline: 5 years.]


[Mission 2: A Trillion Dollars Dream!]


[Description:Master has nursed a private dream since the first billion landed: to personally generate and publicly erase a trillion dollars from the global financial markets—without ever revealing his identity. Prove that one unseen hand can wipe a trillion clean and vanish like smoke.]


[Objective: Leverage the Secret Funds (War Chests) to execute the wipe. Make it loud. Make it legendary. Let the world know someone out there can do the impossible... and no one will ever know who.]


[Timeline: 2 months]


[Rewards for the Trillion Dollars Dream: 2billion SP direct deposit. 3× 100% Duplicate Cards. 1× Supreme Mystery Box.]


[Rewards for the Empire mission:4× Supreme Mystery Boxes.]


I let the words burn into my retinas.


[Note:There is no need to rush on the Empire mission, Master. True dominance takes time. Enjoy the journey.]


The empire one? Yeah. No rush.


But the Trillion Dollars Dream?


Holy fuck.


Since the moment I crossed into nine figures, that quiet obsession had lived in the back of my skull: a trillion. Not inherited. Not inflated by hype. Made. Then erased—publicly, brazenly, impossibly—while staying completely anonymous. I’d never said it out loud. Never had to.


But WHAT THE FUCK IN HELL!!!!


No—forgive the language—what the actual fuck is this?


The system was handing me a mission to generate a trillion dollars in two months. That part? Not even the shock. Yeah, I could do it. ARIA could probably orchestrate the entire sequence in under thirty days if I let her off the leash—silent, surgical, market-destroying precision.


The mechanics weren’t the problem.


The real gut-punch was the second half.


Make it public. Make it known.


Not a quiet accumulation. Not another invisible billion stacking in shadow accounts. No.


Wipe a trillion clean from the global financial markets in broad fucking daylight—let every trading screen, every headline, every central bank, every hedge-fund war room watch the number vanish like it was never there.


Let the world scream conspiracy, panic, awe, terror. Let them hunt ghosts. Let them know—beyond any doubt—that out there, somewhere, someone just flexed god-level power over money itself... and then disappeared without a trace.


No name. No face. No trail.


Just legend.


ARIA could erase the trillion tomorrow if I said the word. But the mission wasn’t asking for erasure. It was demanding spectacle. A trillion-dollarmiddle finger waved in front of every camera on the planet, then gone.


I stared at the notification until the words blurred.


My pulse hammered in my throat. A slow, dangerous grin pulled at my mouth.


WOW.


Just... wow.


The system wasn’t playing small anymore. It was daring me to step out of the shadows—not with my face, but with my footprint. To become the boogeyman of Wall Street, the phantom trillionaire who could break the world economy for sport and walk away whistling.


No, forget that for a second—there were the rewards too!


The fucking 2 billion SP straight from the system as a direct deposit. Forget the billions I already had stacked in shadow accounts; 2 billions SP hits different.


That wasn’t just wealth—it was rewriting the definition of power. I’d be sitting on three trillion dollars(2 billion SP equivalent to $2 Trillions) in the next two months or less. And that was just the secret my own money, not even touching the full Liberation Empire liquidity.



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