But unlike the typical rich, arrogant, snobbish kid you'd expect from someone of his status, Darius was shockingly chill. In fact, he was one of the most easygoing and generous guys in the academy. His wealth was undeniable, but what made him hilarious was the way he spent his money—completely detached from how normal people valued it.
One day, after classes, Krishna, Remus, Renford, and Raiden were hanging around near the academy gates when they noticed one of their classmates, Marcus, pacing back and forth, looking stressed.
The guy looked like he was debating whether to sprint home or just accept his fate and sleep on a bench.
Darius, meanwhile, had just arrived, sipping a ridiculously overpriced iced coffee that probably cost more than someone's monthly rent. The contrast between the two was almost comical.
Marcus sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Man, I just need like a hundred bucks to get a cab home. I don’t have enough on me right now.”
Darius barely reacted. Instead, he reached into his sleek, black-gold wallet—the kind that looked like it had never held anything less than a $1,000 bill—pulled out a check, scribbled something on it, and casually handed it over.
Marcus took one look at the check and nearly dropped it. His eyes widened in pure, unfiltered shock.
“Bro… this says five thousand dollars.”
Darius nodded. “Yeah?”
Marcus’ entire body locked up. “I—Dude—I only needed a hundred!”
Darius waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep the rest. Buy yourself some snacks or something.”
The entire group froze for a solid five seconds.
And then? Chaos.
Krishna nearly doubled over, hands on his knees, laughing.
Remus clutched his stomach. “Bro gave you five grand to get home! You better hire a personal driver at this point.”
Renford was wheezing. “Man could take a private jet at this rate.”
Even Raiden, usually the more serious one, had to take a deep breath to keep himself from laughing too hard. “Darius, do you even know how money works?”
Darius took another sip of his coffee, completely unfazed. “Eh. I don’t really think about it.”
Marcus, still gripping the check like it was a winning lottery ticket, stared at Darius like he had just witnessed a divine act.
“You… don’t want anything in return?”
Darius blinked. “Return? What’s there to return? Just take it, man. I don’t need it.”
Krishna clapped Marcus on the back, still laughing. “Congratulations, bro. You went from being broke to being a minor investor in like five minutes.”
Marcus just stood there, looking between the check and Darius, probably questioning every decision he had ever made in life.
That wasn’t the only time Darius casually threw money around.
His generosity wasn’t flashy in the way people expected from the ultra-rich. He didn’t go out of his way to make a show of it, and he never did it to make people feel indebted to him. He just… did things whenever he felt like it, as if spending absurd amounts of money was no different from picking up a pack of gum.
Like the time a student in the cafeteria complained that the food tasted bad.
Instead of just agreeing or ignoring it like a normal person, Darius finished his meal, wiped his mouth, and then made a phone call. The very next week, the school’s cafeteria was under new management. The old food service was gone, replaced with high-quality meals prepared by chefs who looked like they belonged in five-star restaurants.
When Krishna asked what happened, Darius just said, “Oh, yeah. I bought the cafeteria.”
Another time, one of their classmates tried to buy a drink from a vending machine, only for it to eat his money without giving him anything. The student grumbled about how vending machines were scams.
Darius, hearing this, simply pulled out his phone.
The very next day, every vending machine in the school had a sign that read: "FREE FOR THE WEEK – COURTESY OF DARIUS ROTHWELL.”
Apparently, he had bought the vending machine company overnight just to make sure no student ever lost their money to a machine again.
Then there was the class trip.
Some students had forgotten to bring extra cash for souvenirs and snacks. Instead of watching them struggle, Darius casually pulled out his wallet—which, by the way, looked like it had the GDP of a small country in it—and handed out stacks of cash like he was passing out flyers.
“Have fun, boys,” he said, as if he had just given them a couple of bucks.
The students stared at the money, looked at each other, and then sprinted off to enjoy the trip like kids in a candy store.
Krishna once joked, “Darius, I bet if someone asked for lunch money, you’d buy them a whole restaurant.”
Darius barely blinked. “If the food’s good, yeah, probably.”
At this point, Krishna, Remus, Renford, and Raiden had long accepted that Darius operated on a completely different level of reality.
But the thing was, he never bragged about it. He never acted superior or looked down on anyone, even though he had more money than he could ever spend in a lifetime.
To him, money was just a tool—something to use, not something to obsess over.
And that’s what made him different from the other rich kids.
As with any rich kid, there was bound to be another student trying to one-up them. Enter Lucas Vanford, the son of another wealthy family.
Unlike Darius, who was effortlessly generous and low-key about his wealth, Lucas loved flaunting his status. He wore designer brands every single day, his school bag was probably worth more than some students’ entire wardrobes, and he made sure everyone knew about his latest luxury purchases. He was the type of guy who would casually drop the price of his outfit into conversations even when no one asked.
And naturally, Lucas hated Darius.
It wasn’t because Darius was richer—no, Lucas could live with that. It was because no matter how hard Lucas tried to flex, Darius simply didn’t care. It was infuriating.
So, one day, Lucas decided to challenge him directly.
During lunch, he confidently strolled up to the table where Krishna, Remus, Renford, and Raiden were sitting with Darius. With a smug grin, he tossed his car keys onto the table, making sure they made enough noise to get everyone's attention.
“So, Darius,” Lucas began, his voice loud enough for nearby students to hear. “Just bought a brand-new sports car. Custom paint job, top speed of 220 mph, cost me about a million. What do you think?”
The group collectively paused to see how Darius would respond.
Darius barely looked up from his phone. “Nice. I bought one last week for my dog.”
Lucas blinked. “Wait, you bought a million-dollar car… for your dog?”
Darius nodded, sipping his drink nonchalantly. “Yeah, he likes to ride around the estate. It’s funny to watch.”
Krishna and Remus immediately turned away, biting their lips to stop themselves from losing it. Renford, who had been mid-sip, sputtered and dropped his drink onto the table. Raiden just let out a deep sigh, shaking his head like this was just another Tuesday.
Lucas, now visibly sweating, tried to recover. “Oh. Well… uh, I also got this.” He pulled out an expensive-looking gold watch, flashing it around like it was the Infinity Gauntlet. “Limited edition, only five in the world.”
Darius calmly finished his drink and leaned back in his chair. “Cool. I bought all five.”
Lucas’s eye twitched. “Huh?”
Darius shrugged. “Yeah, I liked the design, so I figured, why not?”
Lucas’s mouth opened and closed like a malfunctioning robot. The cafeteria went dead silent for a moment, and then—
BOOM.
Laughter exploded across the room. Students at nearby tables lost it. A few even stood up, hollering as they clutched their stomachs. Krishna had to lean against Remus to keep from collapsing. Renford was wheezing, while Raiden just rubbed his temples.
Lucas, defeated, slowly picked up his keys and walked away without another word.
From that day on, he never tried to flex on Darius again.
The School-Wide Incident
Eventually, Darius’s casual generosity ended up causing a massive problem at USCT.
One day, he got tired of how slow the school’s WiFi was. Instead of complaining like a normal student, he simply bought the entire internet service provider and upgraded the network speed to military levels.
This led to complete chaos. Students were suddenly streaming in 16K resolution, gaming at zero ping, and downloading terabytes of data in seconds. Teachers couldn’t even enforce deadlines anymore because students would “accidentally” crash the submission servers by sheer data overload. It got so bad that the principal had to personally step in and ask Darius to tone it down.
Darius, however, was unmoved. “If I slow it down, then it’s just bad internet again.”
The principal pinched the bridge of his nose. “We don’t need quantum-level internet speed, son.”
Darius sighed but agreed—after making sure the teachers’ computers remained at full speed so they couldn’t complain about connectivity issues ever again.
Then there was the time he noticed some students struggling to afford new training gear for combat classes. Instead of just buying some extra gear, he donated ten million dollars to the school’s sports program.
That alone would have been wild, but the real chaos started when the school realized they suddenly had so much money that they canceled tuition fees for an entire semester.
At first, no one knew who was responsible. The administration claimed it was an anonymous donor. Students celebrated, thinking the school had somehow gained a secret government sponsor. But then one curious student checked the donation records and found Darius’s name attached.
When Krishna confronted him about it, Darius just shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea.”
Krishna stared at him. “Bro, you just made this school free.”
Darius calmly sipped his imported, gold-plated, diamond-encrusted coffee. “You’re welcome.”
At this point, Krishna, Remus, Renford, and Raiden had long accepted that Darius wasn’t just rich—he was a force of nature.
And in the end, everyone at USCT had one unspoken rule:
If Darius offers you money, just take it.
Don’t ask questions.
Darius wasn’t just some rich kid throwing money around for fun. Beneath the surface of his casual generosity was a mind sharper than most adults in the cybersecurity world.
His catalyst—Hacking—allowed him to bypass, disable, or control any electronic device at will. Security systems, advanced mechs, digital networks—none of them could stop him. If it had a circuit, he could manipulate it.
By the age of 16, he was already an ethical hacker, hired by private firms and even government agencies to test their security systems. Of course, they had no idea that he was doing these jobs from his dorm room between gaming sessions.
Despite his abilities, Darius never used his powers for personal gain—at least, not in an illegal way. He could have easily drained the world’s bank accounts or rigged the stock market, but he didn’t. Why?
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Because money wasn’t exciting to him. He already had more than he’d ever need.
What was exciting, however, was messing with people in the most nonchalant way possible.
One day, during combat training, the instructors decided to test the students with an advanced battle simulation—a massive, AI-controlled training mech designed to adapt to their fighting styles in real-time.
The students were struggling. Even some of the strongest recruits were barely holding their ground. The mech was too advanced, too unpredictable.
And then Darius, who had been watching the whole time while sipping an expensive latte, casually pulled out his phone.
With two taps, the mech froze mid-attack.
A second later, it sat down, powered off completely, and displayed a message across its screen:
"System Error: Skill Issue. Please Try Again."
The entire training facility went silent.
Krishna, Remus, Renford, and Raiden turned to Darius.
“Bro… did you just hack the mech?” Krishna asked, eyes wide.
Darius took another sip of his latte. “Yeah.”
“You didn’t even touch it,” Remus pointed out.
Darius shrugged. “WiFi’s a thing, you know.”
The instructor, who had been overseeing the session, stared at the lifeless mech in horror. “Darius, what did you do?!”
“I turned it off,” he replied nonchalantly.
“TURNED IT OFF?! THIS MECH COST FIVE MILLION DOLLARS!”
Darius yawned. “Maybe don’t put five-million-dollar machines on a network that a 16-year-old can hack in under five seconds.”
The entire room lost it.
From that moment on, everyone at USCT knew not to mess with Darius when it came to technology. If there was ever an issue with security, hacking, or robotics, he was the first person they turned to. And if there was ever a day when the WiFi mysteriously improved, everyone just assumed it was Darius.
- He treats money like air—he has so much of it that he doesn’t even care about it. If someone needs something, he just buys it without thinking twice.
- He’s annoyingly casual about his intelligence. He could hack into a high-security government server while eating a sandwich and act like it was nothing.
- Despite all his abilities, he doesn’t show off unless provoked. If someone tries to flex their wealth or tech skills, he’ll casually destroy them in the most effortless way possible.
- He’s incredibly loyal to his friends. If anyone messes with Krishna, Remus, Renford, or Raiden, he could ruin their entire online existence—but instead, he just subtly makes their life inconvenient (like making their phone always auto-correct "yes" to "I'm an idiot").
Darius isn’t just a rich kid. He’s a walking cheat code.
Darius wasn’t just a rich kid. He wasn’t just a hacker. He wasn’t just another student at USCT. He was a paradox in human form—a young man who had limitless resources but chose to use them wisely.
He was kind yet firm, wealthy yet grounded, generous yet strategic. His generosity wasn’t random; it had rules. He never gave to impress or seek approval—he gave because he genuinely believed in helping those who deserved it.
Some called him crazy. Others called him a walking bank. But in the end, Darius was just Darius—and that alone made him different.
Darius never saw money as something to hoard or wield as a status symbol. To him, wealth was simply a tool—one that could change lives.
Darius never threw money around just for the sake of it. Every grand gesture, every expensive donation, and every casual act of giving came from genuine compassion. If someone was in trouble, he had the means to help, so why wouldn’t he?
To most people, money was a status symbol. To Darius, it was a means to an end. If five thousand dollars could stop someone from struggling, why hesitate?
His generosity went beyond money. Sometimes, all someone needed was guidance, opportunity, or a push in the right direction.
- When a struggling student needed money to get home, he gave them way more than they asked for—because in his mind, why stop at the bare minimum?
- When the school cafeteria food sucked, he bought the entire cafeteria and brought in world-class chefs.
- When the school WiFi was slow, he bought the whole internet provider and upgraded the system to military speeds.
And sometimes, his help was invisible.
Darius was a hacker—not the kind that caused chaos, but the kind that silently fixed problems before they even began. If he found out a fellow student was being targeted by scammers, identity thieves, or cybercriminals, he didn’t just warn them. He shut the whole operation down before they could even try.
If someone deserved help, they got it.
If someone tried to exploit him, they learned real fast that he wasn’t just some gullible rich kid.
It was rare to find someone like him—someone who could have easily been selfish, but instead, chose to give without expecting anything in return.
Darius had grown up surrounded by greed, corruption, and arrogance. He had seen rich people hoard wealth for power, and he hated it. That’s why he chose to be different.
His money, his skills, his influence—they weren’t weapons for self-gain. They were tools to make things better.
Darius didn’t want fame. He didn’t want recognition. He didn’t even care if people thought he was crazy.
He just wanted to help people.
Being rich and powerful wasn’t the goal.
Being someone who actually made a difference—that was.
Darius wasn’t a mindless giver. His generosity had limits.
- If you truly needed help, he would go above and beyond.
- If you tried to take advantage of him, you were out of luck.
- If you were lazy and entitled, expecting free handouts, he had zero sympathy.
He had seen too many people exploit kindness—and he refused to be someone’s personal ATM.
Darius could tolerate a lot, but the one thing he despised more than anything? Criminals.
Not the kind who stole because they were starving. Not the kind who made mistakes and tried to change.
He hated those who used power to hurt others—whether it was through money, violence, manipulation, or fear.
And the best part? He had the skills to fight back.
Darius wasn’t just a billionaire—he was an ethical hacker. He had spent years learning how to break into systems, how to uncover hidden truths, how to erase threats before they even knew he was watching.
If a predator, a scammer, a trafficker, or a corrupt businessman tried to abuse their power?
Darius didn’t just expose them.
He erased them.
Darius was a kind person, but if he had to choose between being kind and being just, he would always pick justice—even if it meant being ruthless.
- If someone was suffering, he would help them.
- If someone was hurting others, he would destroy them without hesitation.
His iron will was what separated him from the other rich kids. He had the resources, the intelligence, and the power to do whatever he wanted—and he used it to fight for what was right.
Darius wasn’t just another rich kid. He was the definition of kindness backed by strength.
Most people assumed rich kids were spoiled, selfish, and out of touch. Darius shattered that stereotype.
- He used money as a tool, not as an ego boost.
- He proved that you could be rich without being greedy.
- He wasn’t just giving money away—he was changing lives with it.
His generosity was ridiculous.
- If someone complained about bad food, he bought the whole cafeteria.
- If a vending machine ate someone’s dollar, he bought the vending machine company and made everything free for a week.
- If someone needed a hundred dollars for a cab, he gave them five thousand instead.
Some people thought he was insane.
Others realized he was just built different.
Darius wasn’t just a hero.
He wasn’t just a hacker.
He wasn’t just a rich kid.
He was a force of nature.
If he wanted to fix something, he fixed it.
If he wanted to help someone, he helped them.
If he wanted justice, he got it—by any means necessary.
People could judge him all they wanted.
In the end, he didn’t care about opinions—he cared about results.
And that’s what made him dangerous.
Darius was a paradox of a person—a young man who had immense wealth, hacking skills, and power, yet used them to uplift others rather than dominate them. His personality was a fascinating blend of genuine kindness, cold rationality, and unwavering justice, making him a unique force in a world driven by greed and corruption.
His mental state, personality, and psychology were just as layered as his actions. Beneath his easygoing and generous exterior, there was a sharp, analytical mind, a strong moral compass, and an unshakable will.
But even someone like Darius wasn’t without his psychological struggles.
Darius may have seemed like a man who had everything, but his psychological health was complicated. He was stable, but not untouched by stress, responsibility, and emotional burdens.
Darius had an incredible level of emotional control.
- He rarely got angry or frustrated over minor things.
- He handled problems with calmness and logic rather than emotional outbursts.
- His sense of humor made him seem carefree, but underneath it, he was always calculating.
However, he was not immune to stress.
- He often hid his own struggles, refusing to let others worry about him.
- He had moments of exhaustion, especially when dealing with corruption and injustice.
- While he didn’t let emotions control him, they still affected him—he just never showed it.
Despite his easygoing attitude, Darius carried a mental burden most couldn’t comprehend.
- His hacking skills put him in a position where he knew too much about the world’s corruption.
- His wealth made him a target for people who wanted to exploit him.
- His high moral standards made it difficult for him to ignore suffering.
Sometimes, Darius felt like he had to fix everything—and that weight, over time, could lead to burnout.
But instead of talking about it, he pushed through it alone.
Even with friends like Krishna, Remus, Renford, and Raiden, there were moments where Darius felt alone.
- Most people didn’t understand him. They either saw him as a walking wallet or some untouchable genius.
- He had trouble forming deep emotional connections, not because he didn’t care, but because he often felt like he was operating on a different level.
- He trusted very few people, knowing how easily others could be fake, greedy, or manipulative.
Despite all this, he never let loneliness consume him. He kept moving forward, because his purpose mattered more than his personal struggles.
Darius wasn’t someone who was openly mentally ill, but that didn’t mean he was completely unaffected by psychological struggles. His intelligence, lifestyle, and responsibilities made him prone to certain mental challenges.
While he never showed weakness, Darius had a hyperactive mind that was always working, always calculating, always thinking ahead.
- He often anticipated worst-case scenarios, preparing for problems before they even happened.
- His sense of responsibility made it hard for him to relax.
- He sometimes struggled with letting things go—especially when it came to justice.
His ability to stay calm and rational made it easy to hide any anxiety he felt.
Darius slept very little, not because he physically couldn’t, but because his mind was always active.
- If there was a problem to solve, he wouldn’t rest until it was fixed.
- He spent countless nights hacking, researching, or working on something important.
- His brain rarely shut off, making deep sleep difficult.
Despite this, he still functioned at peak performance—but the lack of rest took its toll over time.
Despite his kindness, Darius had a slightly cynical side.
- He had seen too much corruption, greed, and selfishness to be blindly optimistic.
- He knew that many people weren’t interested in real change—they just wanted to take what they could.
- He had moments where he questioned, “Is all this even worth it?”
But no matter how cynical he got, he never stopped helping others—because at his core, he believed in doing what was right.
Darius was likely an INTJ (The Mastermind) or ENTP (The Visionary) in the Myers-Briggs Personality System.
If Darius was an INTJ, it would explain:
- His strategic thinking and long-term vision.
- His ability to stay calm and calculated under pressure.
- His preference for efficiency and logic over emotions.
If he leaned more toward ENTP, it would explain:
- His witty, sarcastic sense of humor.
- His love for challenging systems, breaking rules, and disrupting corruption.
- His quick adaptability and ability to outthink opponents in seconds.
In reality, he had traits from both—a strategist at heart, but unpredictable in execution.
Darius had an intricate blend of traits that made him unique.
? Generous – He never hesitated to help those who truly needed it.
? Intelligent – His mind operated at a level most couldn’t keep up with.
? Calm Under Pressure – No matter how chaotic things got, he always stayed composed.
? Strategic Thinker – He didn’t just react—he planned five steps ahead.
? Unwavering Morals – He knew what was right and refused to compromise.
? Witty & Playful – Despite his seriousness, he had a sharp sense of humor.
? Overworks Himself – He never let himself rest, always feeling responsible for fixing everything.
? Struggles with Emotional Expression – He was terrible at opening up about personal struggles.
? Slightly Cynical – He had seen too much darkness to believe in simple solutions.
? Hard to Relate To – His intelligence and wealth made it difficult to form deep connections.
Darius wasn’t just a rich kid, a hacker, or a genius—he was a living contradiction.
- He had everything, yet felt disconnected.
- He was kind, yet ruthless when necessary.
- He was a hero, but not the kind people expected.
His mind worked at a different level, and his generosity was boundless. But at the same time, he carried burdens no one could see—burdens that came with knowing too much, helping too much, and fighting too much.
In the end, he wasn’t just a billionaire hacker.
He was a force of nature—one that left the world better, stronger, and safer than he found it.