"For the local news, another house robbery occurred earlier at midnight. The tenant, known as the suspect, disappeared with all of the owner's jewels and accessories. It was further alleged that, in addition to the ornaments, a total of half-million was also stolen inside the house. For more details, here's the live report by Kara Mia." reported the news anchor.

The camera transitioned at the reporter with a heritage house in her background. Even though it was still early in the morning, the neighbors were making a lot of noise and speculating about what had happened.

"This is already the 17th case of the same report as of this month. Currently, here we are in the neighborhood where the robbery occurred, and as you can see, at the back of us, this is the house of the 17th victim of 'The Robber Tenant' case.  Despite the difficulties facing the married couples right now, Maria Dungaw, age 47, the wife and the victim, remained open about the situation."

Instead of capturing the scene in which the reporter earnestly requested permission from the owner to enter the said house, the news' logo was displayed on the television screen. After a few moments, the camera then focused on the two women; the victim, and the reporter. They were in the house's living room, which was immaculately clean. The ceilings and the walls indicated that this property had stood for a lot of decades.

"Madam, when did the tenant rented the room?" the reporter, Kara Mia, asked the victim, Maria Dungaw.

The victim's eyes showed every mixed emotion she felt; anger, sadness, and hopelessness. "H-He just started yesterday at night, Ma'am."

"Did you get the chance to know him, Madam?"

"No, of course not. He's acting so creepy and he doesn't talk that much. And it was the first time I saw him personally and it's also the first time this happened to me. And I just met him yesterday."

"Understood, Madam. But could you please tell the nation what happened?"

The victim whimpered. "It happened at night when he knocked on our gate. He said he wanted to rent a room in our house, maybe because he saw the sign stipulated outside. And when we discussed the matters about contracts and courses inside, he suddenly said he would be just staying for one night. So I let it go since he said he would pay the rent 3 times the ordinary amount. And when I woke up earlier, he was gone and all of my money vanished too... even the jewels that my great grandmother gave me."

Remaining understandable and cool, the reporter asked, "Have you, somehow, recognized or— can you describe his face, Ma'am?"

"I couldn't exactly describe his face but there's one thing I knew from him... he is a high schooler and a runaway person. I don't know which school he attended to since he didn't mention it... but I think I recognized him... I think I saw him somewhere before. I just can't remember." She wiped her tears off with the handkerchief she held.

"Ma'am, do you know his name?"

"H-His name?" The victim paused and stopped crying, "That's right. He mentioned his name was—"

And just like that, a barbershop staff switched the news station channel into a sports channel. He then tossed the TV remote on the couch and sat there, slouching and digging his nose with his pinky finger.

"Hey! Why did you change it?!" another employee grumbled while sweeping the floor.

A deep-seated sigh. "Man, the news nowadays is so boring. Sports is much slightly better."

"Then if you feel bored, would you mind helping me here? And I told you to stop slouching, you look like a lazy bastard."

"Nah, I'd rather clean at night. You go with—What the f!" When he turned his sights outside the shop, he was so astonished that his jaw dropped open.

His coworker got furious. "What is it no—" It took him a second to be calm and silent before he dropped the broom on the floor as he froze in his spot. "—Holy crap!

They glimpsed at a TC Royal Limousine car that just parked outside, in front of their barbershop. After a while, the car's door opened luxuriously, the barbershop staffs were so cautious about their movements since it's their first time seeing something crazy like this, especially in front of them and their shop. 

After the car opened its door, a man in his twenties dressed in a suit and carrying a bag emerged looking like royalty. From the staffs' perspective, it appeared like money was strewn everywhere behind him. They also envisioned that this guy's visage was a whole bag of money.

They were even more bowled over when the man faced in front of their shop and opened the door.

"G-Good morning, Sir!"

"W-What can we do for you, Sir?"

They had no idea... because of their nervousness, they were saluting him like some soldiers.

The man took a step closer to them and took out his phone to show them a photo of a large institution. "Do you know where is this place?" 

When the two employees viewed the photo, they were astounded at how large and luxurious this institution is.

It is a location where brains are molded and a nation's destiny is shaped. It is the location for imparting instruction to the next generation in a methodical and orderly manner. The form, manner, and system of instruction at this institution are critical factors in a nation's destiny.

"Oh, that school, Sir? Yes, it's just near here. When you go outside this shop, turn to the north and there you can view a huge tower, it's visible to all so there's no need to worry about the direction. Beside that tower, another castle-like structure is located there. And that castle-like structure is the school. But it's a private area though, you need an appointment before you can ge---"

"Thanks for the information," the man, without a second, cut him off. He then withdrew a thick layer of cash from his bag and handed it to the employee who responded. "Take this five hundred thousand cash with you." 

Furthermore, the man quickly stepped outside the shop and glanced to the north to check out the tower which was indicated by the staff. When it appeared that he had discovered it, he stepped into the car and vanished in an instant. The two staff just stood and stared into the air, as if they had no idea what just happened. 

The employee who got the money was even more dumbfounded.

"Is this really happening?" he asked, still frozen in his spot. While deep gazing outside the shop, he added, "H-Hey, want a half of this money?"

His co-worker crossed his arms. "Nah, bro. Just take it. You have a family to feed, right?" answered his co-worker, also staring outside their store.

"Yes... but I just can't take this all! This is more than enough." He looked at the money and realized something, "Maybe this is a scam?"

"Chill, bro. Calm down. If that rich guy scammed you, there is a CCTV camera in this shop that would help."

"Y-Yeah, but we're no match for his richness. And this money... if you don't want a half, then maybe take at least one-third? Or one-fou---"

"Shut up and calm down. If I were you, I'm going to hide that money somewhere safe and won't share it with someone else. Be selfish sometimes, dude. You have a family to feed, right? Just take them all! Be thankful to that rich guy."

The employee seemed to be touched by what his co-worker said, and tears almost streamed down his face. "But what about you? You said your sister is sick, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't care. I'd rather receive money from working hard, not from rich bastards. I despise rich people, all right? And besides, money revolves around the world. If you pay for your taxes, that money will become someone's money. So that rich guy earlier, his money was once our money too... but the unfair system is always the problem. The poor gets to work but the rich gets the money."

Because money is a fictitious concept, it cannot be made to "operate for you" or "collaborate as you rest." People could work, run equipment, and nurture skilled and robust children who are capable of working. All money has ever done is prolong slavery in order to enrich the affluent and enslave the oppressed. Only a society without the need for a financial connection could become a society free of tyranny in all its heinous manifestations.

"O-Okay, chill okay? I will take the money, all right? I was just asking. There's no need to talk about that complex system. And talk about working hard. You did just slack off earlier," he ran to the staff room, and there, he carefully wrapped the cash with some bond papers and safely kept it inside his bag afterward.

"Why? Is it not allowed to sit in here? There are still no customers, how could I work my butt out?"

"Yeah, yeah. You're just lazy."

People's emotional apathy is exacerbated by money, which replaces love and thanks. These micro-interactions change the brain in an unfavorable way over time, reducing the correct development of empathy and creativity in the prefrontal cortex. This is a sort of brain injury that is becoming more common. With money, there is no bright future. It transforms us, and there are fewer and fewer people remaining who can make the kind of intelligent decisions that will rescue our planet.

What influence does the financial system have on the brain? How does it affect the affluent and the poor? Is there any benefit to it, or is it harmful to everyone?

Meanwhile, while sitting at the seventh seat inside the limousine car, a teenage boy wearing some casual yet expensive clothes quietly observed the surroundings outside the vehicle. 

As he put his hand under his chin, he clicked his tongue implying he's bored. "I still have no idea why he ordered me to deliver this money to him. Can't he just get it himself?"

"Permission to speak, Sir Calix," politely asked the driver, who happened to be the same man who had asked for directions earlier at the barbershop.

The adolescent boy, known by his name Calix, glared at his driver, "Go ahead."

His driver then cleared his throat before he spoke up, "Sir Calix..." the driver smiled awkwardly, "...Majordomo told you to address Sir Travis as your 'uncle'."

A sigh. "I don't care. He's not my uncle."

After then, a long silence was loudly heard between the two. The driver just let him do what he wanted since he's higher than him. With Calix's unreadable mind, the driver might get fired if he ever talked again.

"What time is it now?" he coldly questioned his driver.

The driver calmly raised his arm and looked at his wrist, "It's already 8:04, Sir. Should we advance faster?" 

"Of course." 

"Understood, Sir."