00:35
His thoughts flashed back to the villa, to the way the system had effortlessly altered his life without anyone noticing. There had to be a way to use this wish without tipping the scales too far. Something subtle, something that wouldn't raise any red flags.
He paced the living room, the seconds slipping away faster than he wanted. The pressure was mounting, the weight of the decision pressing in on him. He only had one chance tonight, and there was no room for error.
00:25
Martin's mind snapped to a single idea. If the system had this much power—if it could manipulate reality itself—then maybe it could help him in a way that wasn't so obvious. He needed more information.
He needed to understand the system's limits, its rules. And maybe, just maybe, he could gain an edge without putting himself in danger.
His decision was made.
The countdown ticked down to its final seconds. Martin's mind whirled with the possibilities, but amid all the chaos in his thoughts, there was one thing he craved most—relief. His body had been dragging for days, both physically and mentally, a dull ache deep in his bones that no amount of sleep or rest seemed to shake off. The exhaustion from the cleaning marathon, the panic attack, the weight of the supernatural revelation—it all added up, grinding him down.
As the token hovered in front of him, glowing faintly, Martin made his decision.
"I wish to recover my body to a healthy state—an optimal state. I want to have the body that I could have obtained from maintaining a healthy lifestyle all my years."
The words slipped out smoothly, the weight of them settling into the air like a stone dropped into still water. The token flared bright gold for an instant, then vanished into a soft shimmer of light, the countdown ending in silence.
And then, something inside him shifted.
It was subtle at first—a ripple through his muscles, a warmth spreading through his veins like a gentle wave. But within moments, it became unmistakable. The aches, the stiffness in his joints, the fog in his mind—everything began to melt away, replaced by a sense of lightness he hadn't felt in years. His breathing steadied, becoming easier, as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. His heart beat calmly, not thudding heavily like before.
Martin blinked, glancing around the room as if expecting to see some outward sign of the change. His body didn't feel like his own—at least not the tired, sluggish body he'd been living in for so long. This was… something else.
Without a second thought, he rushed into the bathroom. The small first-aid locker on the wall had a mirror attached to it, just big enough to catch his reflection. He leaned in, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the image in front of him.
His skin had lost its pallor, replaced by a healthy shade of pink. The dark circles under his eyes, the ones that had been haunting his reflection for days, were gone. His black eyes were clearer than he could remember, bright and sharp. Even his short, black hair—messy from all the stress—looked fuller, healthier, as though it had somehow been restored.
He took a step back, pulling up the hem of his shirt, and there they were—lines of muscle, subtle but unmistakable, decorating his lean frame. He wasn't bulky by any means, but his body had a balance to it now—muscle where there had once been softness, a thin layer of fat where it was needed, strength in every movement. His tall figure stood straighter, more confident.
Martin twisted his arms, flexing his fingers. His limbs felt lighter, stronger, as if he'd spent years in peak physical condition. His mind was no longer sluggish, and the fog that had clouded his thoughts seemed to have evaporated entirely. The fatigue from earlier—everything he'd gone through today—felt like a distant memory.
He touched his face, marveling at how alive he felt. It wasn't just his body; it was his mind too. His mental exhaustion had disappeared, replaced by a sharpness he hadn't felt in years. It was as though he had been reset, brought back to the healthiest version of himself—maybe even better than that.
Martin let out a low breath, stepping back from the mirror. The change was real. The system had done exactly what he asked. His body had been restored to a state it would have reached had he led a life of perfect discipline, of maintaining optimal health over the years. It felt surreal—unreal—but there was no denying it.
He looked down at his hands, flexing them once more. There was power there now, not just in his muscles, but in the energy thrumming beneath the surface. For the first time in days—maybe in years—Martin felt like himself. No, better than himself.
With a steadying breath, he straightened up, catching his reflection one last time. The system had granted him this gift, but it also came with a reminder—the world wasn't simple anymore.
The rules were changing, and now, so was he.
Martin sat on the couch, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over him. For the first time in days, his mind wasn't buzzing with confusion or fatigue. The recovery wish had done more than just repair his body—it had sharpened his focus, pulling him out of the haze he had been in since the panic attack. Now, as he stared at the clean notepad in his lap, everything began to fall into place.
He picked up the pen, feeling its familiar weight between his fingers, and started writing. His thoughts were clearer than they had been in days, and he needed to get them down before the chaos returned. The panic attack had been a turning point, but now he could see it for what it was: the moment his reality had been turned upside down.
First, he wrote, the system stands as a benefit, not a demerit—at least for now.
That much was obvious. Despite how terrifying the situation had been, the system had given him something valuable. It had made him healthier than he'd ever been. More than that, it offered possibilities he hadn't even begun to explore. But he needed to be cautious. He didn't know the full extent of its powers, and there was no guarantee that this strange, supernatural force would always be on his side.
Second, I have nothing to lose.
He paused after writing that, staring at the words. It was true, wasn't it? Martin had no higher education, no prestigious career, no deep connections to anyone. After his parents' divorce, he had drifted apart from them, and since then, he had been coasting through life with no real direction. In a way, that gave him freedom. The system wasn't a burden—it was an opportunity. A tool he could use to finally turn his life around.
Third, the system hasn't broken the laws of reality—yet.
He tapped the pen against the paper, deep in thought. Yes, the system's abilities were extraordinary, but they hadn't truly defied the fabric of reality. So far, it had worked within the constraints of the physical world.
He had gotten a house, a rebate, and a healthier body—but none of these things bent the universe out of shape. The house was still bound by property laws, the money had appeared in his bank account like any normal transaction, and his body was just the result of optimizing his potential.
He hadn't asked for anything too outlandish yet.
That brought him to his next thought, which he wrote down with growing curiosity:
Fourth, what does "bronze" mean?
He stared at the word, trying to unpack its significance. The wish token had been labeled "Bronze," which implied the existence of higher-grade tokens. If that was true, what would those higher-grade tokens offer? Bronze had given him the power to make relatively reasonable wishes—things that still fit within the laws of physics.
But if there were silver, gold, or even higher tokens, could they unlock true reality-altering powers? The kind that made the impossible possible?
The thought sent a chill down his spine. He wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
Fifth, he continued, no experimentation on others—not people, not animals.
That was a line he wasn't willing to cross. Not just for the sake of maintaining secrecy, but because he wasn't ready to deal with the moral and ethical complications of using the system on other beings. He would keep things focused on himself, for now. That was safer. Smarter.
The rest of his thoughts flowed easily after that. He jotted down smaller considerations, minor things to keep in mind.
Once he had everything written out, Martin leaned back on the couch and stared at the neat lines of his handwriting. He felt in control now. There was no more panic, no more spiraling into confusion. The system had upended his life, but it had also given him a chance to build something better. He would take it one step at a time, careful and deliberate.