As Martin extended his invitation, Sarah smiled, her eyes twinkling with jest.
"Are you ready to pull an all-nighter, Martin?" she asked playfully. "I hope you know what you're signing up for—this is how I spend most of my nights these days."
Her tone was light, but there was an underlying weariness to it. For Sarah, staying up late, combing through complex legal texts and convoluted regulations had become the norm.
Martin nodded, though he suddenly noticed something he hadn't before. Under the glow of the streetlights and now in the calmer atmosphere, the faint eye-bags beneath Sarah's makeup became visible, and the lines on her face, hidden during the gathering, were now clearer.
She caught him staring. Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she touched her cheek and the delicate skin below her eyes.
"What do you think?" she asked with a wry chuckle. "Am I starting to look like a grandma already?"
Martin felt a pang of guilt, awkwardly shifting in place. He glanced at the time on his phone—just before 11:00 PM. A sudden idea sprang to mind. Testing the waters, he fabricated a little white lie.
"You know," he started casually, "I've been using this facial massage technique for years, kind of a little self-care thing. It's worked wonders, especially when I wasn't taking care of myself otherwise. If you want, I could show you—might help with those wrinkles."
Sarah shot him a skeptical look, but there was amusement there, too. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking between his, then laughed softly.
"I'm not sure I'm buying it, but maybe we can save my 'youth revival treatment' for later. Let's head upstairs and get into the books first—anything involving my wrinkles can wait."
Martin chuckled, grateful she'd brushed it off but also determined to bring it up again later. Together, they made their way upstairs to his apartment.
Once inside, Sarah's eyes widened in surprise.
"Wow, it's so clean in here," she said, looking around in awe. "After walking through that dingy hallway, I wasn't expecting this."
Martin smiled, glad that his frantic cleaning spree earlier had paid off.
"I try to keep things neat," he replied modestly, though a part of him enjoyed seeing her impressed.
As Sarah admired the space, Martin's gaze fell on his notepad, lying out in the open on the table. His heart skipped a beat. Scrawled across the pages were his thoughts on the system—ideas he definitely didn't want Sarah to see.
He moved quickly but calmly, grabbing the notepad and casually tearing out the incriminating pages, crumpling them in his hands, but he didn't dare to shred the evidence to pieces.
"Everything okay?" Sarah asked, curious.
"Yeah," Martin said with a light laugh. "Just some embarrassing thoughts I jotted down while daydreaming. You don't want to see them."
Sarah raised an eyebrow but didn't press the issue.
"Everyone has their dirty little secrets," she shrugged, stretching her arms above her head. She then removed her jacket and shoes, tossing the former onto the clothes rack near the entrance.
Without a second thought, she unbuttoned the top buttons of her undershirt, rolled up her sleeves, and pulled the hairpin from her black hair, letting it fall loosely over her shoulders.
Martin watched, suddenly realizing with a jolt that, for the first time, a mature woman was about to spend the night in his apartment.
A rush of nerves coursed through him, but he pushed the thought aside as they settled into the comfortable rhythm of work, knowing that the night had only just begun.
As Martin and Sarah sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch, he struggled to maintain focus.
The soft, feminine aroma of her presence was hard to ignore, but he forced his mind to stay on track. Opening his notepad, he showed Sarah the progress he'd made on his research throughout the day.
Sarah, in true lawyer fashion, immediately kicked into gear. She flipped through the neatly written notes, her critical eye catching every detail.
Martin had meticulously outlined the steps for starting a business, from choosing a business structure to obtaining permits and licenses—information he had combed through earlier.
Martin had chosen a Limited Liability Company (LLC), which Sarah approved of, but she cautioned him that there were loopholes lawyers could exploit if the operating agreement wasn't solid enough.
She mentioned that while Martin had planned to register the business name with the state, he needed to be vigilant about trademarks and national-level filings if he wanted to expand.
Sarah pointed out that industry-specific regulations were often underestimated, and she shared a case study of a small business that faced massive fines for missing an obscure local permit.
Sarah also referenced a few legal battles involving faulty operating agreements, showing Martin how critical it was to clearly outline the roles of each partner.
As Martin opened his laptop to show her the websites he had browsed, along with classical business cases, Sarah fell into her professional rhythm.
She referenced historical legal battles from the business world, explaining how high-profile attorneys used obscure clauses to win cases. Martin, semi-engrossed by the flow of her analysis and her soothing voice, appreciated the value of her insight.
By the time the clock hit 11:45 PM, Martin felt the pressing weight of the approaching midnight hour. He smoothly shifted the conversation, once again bringing up the self-care facial massage he had suggested earlier.
Sarah's brow furrowed, her displeasure evident as she seemed irritated at being pulled away from her intense focus.
"Really, Martin?" she said, her tone rebuking. "We're in the middle of something important."
Martin didn't back down this time. He played the close friend card, insisting that it was his way of repaying her for her help and that he genuinely felt bad seeing her exhaustion written on her face.
They went back and forth, Sarah putting up a strong resistance, her pride and professionalism getting in the way of her accepting what seemed like a trivial offer.
Finally, after nearly ten minutes of playful bickering and pleading, Sarah sighed heavily and relented. "Fine, but you only get this one chance," she said, her voice tinged with mock seriousness.
"If you don't live up to your promise, I'll be really disappointed."
Martin glanced at his watch—11:55 PM. His heart raced as he rushed to the bathroom, grabbing a few pharmaceutical skincare products from the first-aid kit cabinet.
The products weren't branded luxuries but rather authentic items from a reliable manufacturer.
When he returned, Sarah was already leaning back into the couch, eyes closed, seemingly prepared for whatever "treatment" Martin had in mind.
Her relaxed posture suggested she wasn't taking this too seriously, but Martin's urgency betrayed the significance of the moment.
With only seconds left until midnight, Martin stood behind her, applying a bit of lotion to the tips of his fingers. The air felt charged with anticipation as the clock inched closer. He placed his fingers on her cranium, and Sarah's body jolted slightly at the cold sensation.
Just as he made contact, Martin heard the familiar bell chime in his mind.
The world around him dimmed, the colors fading briefly as golden lines wove together, forming a shimmering, fist-sized token.
The word "Bronze" appeared before his eyes, along with the now-expected auditory and visual effects of the system's supernatural powers.
Midnight had arrived, and Martin was ready to use his wish—this time, for Sarah's sake.
Martin didn't rush into making the wish.
Instead, he spent the first forty-five seconds focusing on his task, carefully applying the medicinal ointment to Sarah's face. His hands moved with precision, his fingers tenderly massaging the cool, refreshing mask across her skin.
He was careful not to press too hard, mindful of Sarah's comfort as she sat quietly, her eyes still closed. The room felt still, save for the rhythmic sound of their breathing and the soft rustling of Martin's movements.
The seconds ticked by, but Martin remained calm, making sure to spread the ointment evenly.
Sarah's face became a canvas of the cooling gel, and her body began to relax further into the couch. The quiet atmosphere between them was comforting, almost meditative.
As the countdown in his mind neared its end, Martin closed his eyes for a brief moment and made his wish with clear intent: I wish to restore Sarah Patel's facial structure to the optimal healthy state it ought to be were she to maintain it well all these years.
In his mind, he held a clear image of Sarah's face, hoping the system would respond to his exact wish. He didn't know how precise the supernatural power was, but he wanted to make sure that the benefits of the wish would go to her—and no one else.
The words felt deliberate, as though casting a spell. He focused entirely on the thought of improving Sarah's condition, picturing her rejuvenated and revitalized.
When the wish was made, nothing immediately happened to suggest the magic had worked.
The golden lines faded, and the world returned to normal. Martin's heart thudded in his chest, but outwardly, he kept his composure. He wasn't sure if the wish had taken effect, but he wasn't in any hurry to remove the mask just yet.
The real test would come when it was time to reveal the results. For now, he let the mask work its magic, content to wait and see if the system had delivered on its promise.