Satisfied with his notes, Martin stood up, stretched, and glanced at the time.
Almost 1 O'clock in the morning – the night was still young, and with his renewed energy, he wasn't tired in the slightest.
He needed to get out of the apartment—get some fresh clothes, and maybe take the first steps toward his next move. After all, he couldn't just sit around forever, waiting for the system to hand him everything.
There was a 24/7 mall a few blocks away, always open, always busy. He grabbed his wallet and phone, heading toward the door. As he stepped out into the cool night air, he felt a strange thrill run through him. The world was no longer as simple as he once thought, but for the first time in a long while, Martin felt like he was moving toward something—something big.
With a few hundred bucks in his bank account, it was enough to buy a fresh set of sports wear.
The embryo of a plan took form in Martin's mind as he exited the apartment building, his steps confident, his head clearer than it had been in days. The cool night air carried with it a sense of renewal—a fresh start—and Martin couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as he thought about the day ahead.
He needed a routine to ground himself, something that would not only keep him busy but also give him an alibi for his rapid transformation. After all, no one would believe that he had gone from lethargic and out of shape to fit and energized overnight without raising suspicions. So he came up with a plan, something that made sense to the outside world and aligned with his new reality.
He would start by adding a morning jog to his daily routine. He wasn't much of a runner, but with his newfound strength and stamina, it wouldn't be a problem. The nearby entertainment park had an outdoor gym area—simple equipment like pull-up bars, weights, and benches. He'd go there, put on a show of working out, and make sure to be seen by people. That way, if anyone questioned his sudden physical change, he could point to his "dedicated" new fitness routine.
Around noon, he'd use the rebate system again, but this time, he had a clear plan for how to spend the money. He needed to look the part if he was going to present himself as the new owner of a lakeside villa. That meant a fresh set of clothes, a clean haircut, and a polished appearance. But first, he needed money, and that's where the rebate would come in handy. He'd spend what little he had left on a new smartphone—preferably the latest edition of the iPhone. He knew he couldn't rely on outdated tech if he wanted to be taken seriously, and the system's rebate would more than cover the cost.
The next morning, everything went according to plan. Martin woke up feeling refreshed, his body still humming with the energy from the previous night's wish. He pulled on an old pair of running shoes and a simple t-shirt, heading out for his first jog in years. His legs moved effortlessly, each stride feeling light and smooth, his lungs breathing in the crisp morning air with ease. By the time he reached the park, he felt like he could keep going for miles.
The outdoor gym was buzzing with activity—groups of people chatting, stretching, and working out. Martin joined them, picking a spot near the pull-up bars. He started with some light stretching, then moved onto basic exercises—push-ups, squats, a few pull-ups. He didn't overdo it, just enough to look convincing. His body responded with ease, the muscles in his arms and legs working like a well-oiled machine. A few people glanced his way, but he kept his focus on the workout, staying low-key.
After about an hour, he wiped the sweat from his brow and checked the time. It was nearing noon. Perfect.
He walked to a nearby bench, sat down, and pulled out his phone. His bank account had less than $100 left, but that was about to change. With the minutes ticking down, Martin made his way to the nearest electronics store.
The newest iPhone was displayed prominently, its sleek design gleaming under the bright lights. Martin didn't hesitate—he approached the counter, pointed to the model he wanted, and handed over his card.
The total flashed across the screen—$999. He gritted his teeth, knowing it would wipe out almost all his remaining funds, striking him back into the red credit zone once again, but he wasn't worried. He had the system on his side.
"Sir, credit or cash?" the cashier asked when he noticed that Martin was hesitating to pay up.
"One moment, let me think," was Martin's response, but in truth, he was waiting for the clock to strike 12 O'clcok.
Soon, the familiar echo of a bell chime sounded in Martin's mind, followed by all the familiar symptoms and whatever visual and auditory disturbances.
Looking at the countdown displayed in pure gold, Martin smiled at the cashier and handed his credit card over.
The cashier finally relaxed, as for a moment, he'd thought that Martin would back out at the last moment. His commission was at stake here, after all.
A soft beep indicated the successful transaction, and while the cashier was preparing the receipt, Martin's attention was on the golden lines that twisted in words.
[You spent $999 and triggered a 44x rebate!]
[Reward 1: $43,956!]
[Reward 2: Futuristic Smartphone!]
Without hesitation, Martin selected the option for the first reward.
As the cashier processed the transaction, Martin felt a familiar ripple in the air—the clock had struck noon. His rebate was coming. The cashier handed him the bag, and moments later, his phone buzzed with a notification. He pulled it out, heart pounding.
$43,956 had been credited to your account. Current balance: $43,461.
A grin spread across Martin's face. The rebate had come through, giving him more than enough to cover his expenses and then some. He thanked the cashier, stuffed the phone into his pocket, and left the store, his mind already racing with the next steps.
With the new smartphone in hand, Martin headed straight to the barbershop. He sat in the chair, explaining what he wanted—a sharp, clean cut that would make him look polished, but not too flashy. As the barber worked, Martin felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He was moving forward, one step at a time, everything falling into place.
When the cut was finished, Martin barely recognized himself in the mirror. The messy hair was gone, replaced by a neat, stylish cut that framed his face perfectly. His eyes looked sharper, more focused. He looked like someone who had his life together, someone with confidence.
Satisfied, he paid for the cut and left the barbershop, feeling lighter than ever.
Now, with fresh clothes, a new phone, and a clean haircut, Martin was ready. The next step was clear. He would go to the lakeside villa, documents in hand, and complete the handover.
He had everything he needed to present himself as the rightful owner—and if the system's magic had been real so far, there was no reason to doubt that the villa truly belonged to him.
With that in mind, Martin quickly made his way to the train station.
…
The city hummed around him as he weaved through the bustling streets. Despite the busy atmosphere, Martin felt a strange calmness wash over him. His world was changing rapidly, and yet, everything felt like it was falling into place.
The real estate branch by the lake was a solid hour away, tucked just outside the city's boundaries. It was an isolated location, scenic and peaceful, surrounded by vast expanses of green and shimmering water.
The perfect escape.
As the train pulled away from the station, Martin settled into his seat, staring out the window. The concrete jungle faded into the distance, replaced by the calm countryside and sparkling water that reflected the bright afternoon sun.
The air outside looked cleaner, crisper. For a moment, he almost forgot why he was making the trip, lost in the peaceful landscape.
When he arrived at the lakeside, the office building stood ahead, modest and modern, nestled right by the water. He walked up the winding path, trying to focus on the task at hand—completing the handover.
But just as he approached the door, Martin stopped dead in his tracks.
Standing by the glass entrance was a woman he knew all too well. His former boss, the woman who had ruled his last workplace with an iron grip. But she didn't seem to recognize him at all. Martin froze, caught off guard, unsure if it was fate or misfortune that had brought her here.
It was at that moment that Martin remembered where he used to work at…
How could he forget? That place was also a real estate housing agency, it's just that the preformance of his sales department was so bad to the extent he subconsciously kept the memories locked away.
Then, another thought popped in Martin's mind.
Don't tell me she's responsible for the handover procedures?