He turned away from the window, ready to face the day. His mind wandered back to the mission. "Alright, system," he said aloud. "Let's see what you've got for me."
However, John decided to start his day with a hearty breakfast. He made his way to the kitchen and started preparing his favorite morning meal. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the smell of sizzling bacon and eggs.
Actually, he felt an exceptional sense of anticipation, almost as if the day held a special promise. He poured himself a cup of coffee, took a sip, and smiled. "This is going to be a good day," he thought.
After breakfast, around eight o'clock in the morning, John sat back and pondered the mission. The international motorcycle racing tournament was a big deal, and he had to make sure he signed up for the competition.
He wondered how much the entry fee would be and whether he could afford it. "I've got to check my bank account," he thought. "But first, let's see what I can do about signing up. This could be my ticket to something amazing."
However, John headed out to the balcony, where the morning sun bathed the city in a golden glow. John pulled out his phone and logged into his bank account. His Family Bank Account balance read $300,020.
A special feeling of satisfaction washed over him. Out of the $250,000 he got from the rebate, his account had grown considerably. "Wow! Indeed, Grace is doing a great job," John muttered to himself, marveling at the sales of $70,000 made by his business.
It was an Impressive feat, and he even considered expanding the business soon. If this was the market, then what would be the hindering factor for John not to invest?
John decided to call Grace to discuss the progress. He dialed her number, and after a few rings, Grace picked up from the other side.
"Hey, Grace! How's it going?" John greeted cheerfully.
"Hey, My boss! Things are great here. How about you?" Grace responded, her voice full of energy.
"Not bad, not bad. I just checked the account. Sales are through the roof! You've been doing an amazing job."
"Thanks, John! It's been busy, but we're managing well. The new marketing strategies seem to be paying off. Customers have really liked our services and the good rapport we serve to them."
"Oh… That's great to hear from you Grace. Indeed your professionalism has already paid off! Otherwise, any challenges you're facing?" John asked.
"Well, we could use more stock. Some items are flying off the shelves faster than we can restock them. Carburetors, for example, are in high demand."
Just then, a customer in the background shouted, "How much for a pair of carburetors?" His voice was deep and gruff, almost like he was auditioning for a monster movie.
Grace laughed. "See what I mean? We're running low on several key items."
"Got it. I'll make sure to address that. You've done a fantastic job, Grace. I'll stop by the store sometime this week."
"Sounds good, Mr. John. Thanks for the support!" Grace admitted.
"Take care, Grace. Talk to you soon." John could wish you her employee.
As John hung up the call, he felt a sense of pride. Despite the craziness of the past few days, his business was thriving. However, he knew he had to focus on the mission ahead.
Considerably, registering for the competition as a privately sponsored competitor was a daunting task, but the excitement was palpable in John.
After a short while, John set out for Golden City, where the tournament would take place. He hopped on his motorcycle and punched the location into Google Maps to the exact place he had never gone to that stadium before.
Riding for about 2 hours, John arrived in Golden city that was bustling, traffic jams everywhere. He maneuvered through the congestion, taking in the sights and sounds of the urban jungle.
Vendors lined the streets, hawking everything from fresh produce to electronics. The cacophony of honking horns and street chatter created a vibrant, chaotic symphony.
To be honest, this ran at the back of his mind as a flashlight. Actually, on looking at how the vendors hurriedly moved in the streets, he remembered those days he worked until late in the night. This City indeed had served as the backbone to John and he won't forget about it in his entire life.
As he approached Golden City Mall, Skyrim came into view. Skyscrapers gleamed in the sunlight, and the city pulsed with energy. He followed the directions to the Golden Racing Stadium, with which he had to drift in the left along the railway.
Honestly, John's heart was pounding with anticipation as he was almost to approach the venue. From a distance he was able to see around the stadium lined with banners and flags, signaling the upcoming event. Competitors and fans were gathering, setting up camps and checking out the course.
John's nerves kicked in as he saw the scale of the event. The roads were marked, and the sheer size of the stadium was intimidating. But the system's words continued to echo in his mind, reminding him of the rewards that awaited him. He steeled himself and proceeded to the registration area after parking his motorcycle and locking it in the visitors parking lot.
The building where private competitors would apply was bustling with activity. John walked through the main entrance, guided by signs pointing to various sections. The corridors were lined with doors leading to small rooms where staff worked diligently on computers. John was directed to a counter where a simple yet elegant young lady sat.
"Hello," she greeted with a warm smile. "Are you here to register for the tournament?"
"Yes, I am," John replied, trying to hide his nervousness.
"Great! We have three levels of competition. Which one are you interested in?" she asked, handing him a brochure.
John skimmed through the brochure:
{MotoGP (Grand Prix Motorcycle Racing: $1 billion winners)MotoGP Class: The premier class, featuring the most advanced and powerful motorcycles, typically 1000cc four-stroke engines.
Moto2: The intermediate class, which uses 765cc four-stroke engines.
Moto3: The entry-level class for the Grand Prix, featuring 250cc four-stroke engines.}
{Superbike World Championship (WorldSBK: $0.5 billion winners)
Superbike: This class uses modified production motorcycles with engines ranging from 750cc to 1000cc for four-stroke engines.
Supersport: This class features modified production motorcycles with 600cc to 750cc four-stroke engines.
Superstock: This class involves even less modified production motorcycles, with engine sizes similar to those in the Superbike class but with more restricted modifications.}
{Endurance World Championship (EWC: $0.3 billion winners)
Formula EWC: This is the top class in the EWC, with heavily modified motorcycles similar to the Superbike class.
Super stock: This class features production-based motorcycles with more restricted modifications, similar to the Superstock class in WorldSBK.
Super Twin: A class featuring twin-cylinder motorcycles with engines up to 650cc, often used in lower endurance race categories or as support races.}
John decided on the premier class for the $1 billion winners. He looked at the lady after going through the brochure that explained each level and said, "I'd like to sign up for the MotoGP Class."
"Excellent choice!" she replied. "The registration fee for the MotoGP Class is $250,000."
"What? $250,000!" John pardoned what he heard right away. He had just enough in his account, but spending that much money on a registration fee was a massive gamble. What about when this went lose on his side?
His mind raced with thoughts and doubts. Could he really do this? The stakes were high, but so were the rewards guaranteed?.
As he stood there, contemplating his decision, the echoes of the system's words about the mission and the potential rewards lingered in his mind. He took a deep breath and made his choice with an exceptional feeling.
He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "This is it," he thought. "This is my shot at something bigger."
With a mixture of fear and determination, he handed over his credit card to the lady at the counter. As the transaction processed, he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. The lady handed him a receipt and a registration packet.
"Welcome to the MotoGP Class competition tournament," she said with a smile. "Good luck."
John stood there for a moment, staring at the packet in his hands. The realization of what he had just committed sank in. He was all in now, and there was no turning back.