Killed by Her Thrift, Reborn for Revenge

"What do you know?" Dwight snapped impatiently. "This is an investment. If I make the account even more badass, it'll be more convincing when we appeal. How do you know the customer service won't log in to check? Hurry up! I'm 300 dollars short."

Myra glanced at me. I wore a helpless, restrained expression. "Let's listen to Dwight. Maybe he has a point."

Myra gritted her teeth and took out her phone to transfer the money.

After the first time came the second, and the third.

"Myra, look at this new divine beast mount. It's a server-wide limited release. With this, the account's value doubles!"

"Myra, I got camped in the arena. I need to buy materials for top-tier potions."

"Myra, there's a guild war. I need to hand out money to boost morale!"

The excuses varied wildly, and the amounts went from a few hundred dollars to several thousand dollars.

At first, Myra would ask a few questions, but later she mechanically transferred the money. The balance in her banking app was dropping steeply. In there was over 80% of my salary and bonuses from the past few years.

I watched coldly from the sidelines as she transferred large sums without blinking for Dwight's sake. Yet, she wouldn't even let me buy a decent piece of clothing for myself.

In less than a week, Dwight was slamming his mouse again, the sound loud and jarring.

"I failed again! It's all this stupid enhancement rate's fault. Myra, transfer me another five thousand dollars. I refuse to believe I won't succeed!"

Myra held her phone, finger hovering over the screen.

"Dwight, it's all gone. There's only a few hundred dollars in the card."

"What?" Dwight whipped his head around, eyes bloodshot. "It's all gone? All that money?"

"I transferred it all to you," Myra said in a trembling voice, on the verge of tears. "Look at the transaction history yourself."

Only then did Dwight panic. He frantically scrolled through the phone, and as he saw the dense list of expenses, his face grew paler and paler.

It finally dawned on him that not only had he failed to get the money back, but he had also burned through nearly all of Myra's savings.

"W-What do we do now? The refund appeal—" His voice grew weak.

"Right! The refund! Dwight, hurry and contact the customer service. Tell them you're a minor and demand a full refund, including all the money you put in later," Myra urged him anxiously, as if clinging to the one chance they couldn't afford to lose.

Dwight fumbled to log into the appeal page, but when he saw the complicated documents required, he instantly broke out in cold sweat.

He filled out the form haltingly, growing more panicked with each entry. The more he wrote, the more glaring the holes in their story seemed to become.

"Myra, my stomach suddenly hurts really bad!" He suddenly clutched his stomach, groaning and curling up in his chair.

Myra was frantic, spinning around before sharply turning to glare at me, her eyes filled with misplaced blame and resentment.

"This is all your fault, Glenn! If you hadn't recklessly spent that million dollars in the first place, Dwight wouldn't be like this now. Now all the money is gone, Dwight is sick, and we can barely even afford to take him to a doctor! You useless man! You jinx!"

She screamed hoarsely, as if every bit of this disaster was my doing alone.

I laughed at the absurdity of it all.

"The money's gone?" I asked softly, walking over to the landline phone. "Who says it is?"

Under Myra's stunned, uncertain gaze, I picked up the receiver and dialed three numbers with practiced ease.

"Hello, 911?" My voice was clear, calm, and even carrying a hint of relief. "I'd like to report a crime. Someone has stolen my identity and payment passwords to make malicious, large top-ups on my game account.

"The cumulative amount is substantial and constitutes a serious violation of my property rights. The suspect is currently in my home. Please send officers as soon as possible."