@Petruska @Testigapresencial @V.R.N

There is no real multimillionaire and no money being handed out: it is a fantasy hypothesis raised on a forum, where someone describes how he would organize the lives of three people if the lottery of chance made him rich. The chosen figure, 6,996 euros, responds to no economic calculation, but to a numerical symmetry he finds striking.

The fantasy begins with a premise that never comes true: that chance turns someone into a multimillionaire overnight. From there, the story builds a small private universe with three specific people, a luxury seaside apartment for each one, and an identical monthly allowance for all. There is no inheritance, no company, no investment: just a wish spoken out loud on a current-affairs forum.

## An allowance of 6,996 euros and the logic of symmetry

The central figure of the story is **6,996 euros** a month for each of the three people. The author of the fantasy admits he could give more, but justifies the number by its symmetry: it strikes him as a mathematically perfect amount to make the pact acceptable. There is no economic reasoning behind it, no inflation, no opportunity cost, no taxation. It is a number chosen for its shape, not its function.

That detail says a lot about the kind of exercise this is. It is not a wealth-distribution plan or a serious proposal for a basic income. It is a role-playing game in which money works as scenery: what matters is not how much, but that the figure sounds good and allows one to imagine a life sorted out. Housing, in this case a luxury seaside apartment for each person, appears as the other great pillar of the setup.

## Three assigned roles and scarce visits

The story assigns roles with precision. One of the people would take on the role of rented emotional mother, with hugs, a nervous kiss on the cheek and a farewell with a smack and the advice not to exceed **120** on the road. Another would be the right hand, an adviser for serious dilemmas and guardian of the abandoned pets that show up on nighttime wanderings. The third is the favorite lover, visited once a month under a ritual that includes a papaya smoothie, a drug for erectile dysfunction and a nail-painting session to match a **Chanel** dress and a **Lady Dior** bag.

The author insists he would not be saccharine and that he would visit each of them only two or three times a month, perhaps less. Minimalism, he says, is the key to keeping the magnetism from evaporating. It is a curious way of justifying distance: turning absence into a virtue and presenting the scarcity of visits as a merit, not a flaw.

## A fantasy exercise with no real consequences

It is worth not losing sight of the fact that all this is a hypothesis expressed on a forum. There is no money, no apartments, no pact. The text mixes desire, irony and a bit of verbal exhibitionism, and does so in a tone that invites reading it as what it is: a game. The final request for opinions closes the circle, but does not turn the fantasy into a plan.

If the story reveals anything, it is how easy it is to imagine how one would divide up a fortune that does not exist. The numbers sound concrete, the roles are well defined and the scenario is appealing. But none of it has any real economic translation: not the allowance, not the properties, not the monthly visits. It is bar-counter literature, and that is how it should be read.