Martin clicked on the attachment again, staring at the property documents. If anyone saw him now—unemployed, barely scraping by with less than a thousand dollars in his bank account—they would think he was crazy.
Owning a multi-million-dollar villa didn't make sense for someone in his position. The system had given it to him, but would the rest of the world believe that?
A strange thrill ran through him. On one hand, this was an opportunity—an incredible, almost impossible stroke of luck. But on the other hand, it made him vulnerable. Drawing attention to himself by suddenly showing up at a place like that… people might ask questions. Where did the money come from? Who was he to own such a property?
The uncertainty gnawed at him. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes, not with something this big. Yet the curiosity was overwhelming.
It's my property now, he thought, glancing back at the deeds on the screen. No one else can claim it.
He leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the laptop, his thoughts spinning faster. If he went to the villa, he could see it with his own eyes, make sure it really existed, and maybe even figure out how the system was connected to all of this. But if he went, he risked being seen, drawing unwanted attention.
The day had barely started. It was still early, hours to go until midnight, when the system's second feature—the wish—would activate again. That gave him plenty of time to investigate, but it also gave him plenty of time to be reckless.
Martin sighed and stood up, his eyes drifting to the small window of his apartment. Through the dusty glass, he could see the distant outline of the city's skyline, a stark contrast to the image of the villa in his mind. The pull of the unknown was strong.
The villa represented more than just a house—it was a door into this new world, a piece of the puzzle the system had given him.
But was he ready to open that door?
Martin rubbed his temples, the tension from the previous day still weighing on him. His instincts screamed caution, but a small part of him—a part he couldn't quite silence—whispered that this was his chance. His chance to understand. His chance to see if the world really had changed as much as he thought.
He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on him. For now, all he could do was prepare. If he decided to go, he had to be careful. He had to make sure no one noticed, no one asked questions.
Maybe tomorrow, he thought, glancing back at the clock. Midnight was still far off, and he had plenty of time to decide.
But the question wouldn't leave his mind. Should he check out the villa? Or should he continue lying low, letting the pieces of the puzzle fall into place on their own?
The answer, it seemed, was out there—waiting for him to make the first move.
Martin sat on the couch, his thoughts circling endlessly around the villa, the system, and the growing sense that his world was slipping into chaos. He needed to get out of his own head, to stop the relentless spiral of anxiety and questions that had no answers.
Springing off the couch with a sudden burst of restless energy, Martin scanned the room. The apartment was a mess—clutter piled in every corner, dust coating every surface, dishes stacking high in the sink. It wasn't big—just a small bedroom, a cramped kitchen, a living room that doubled as his dining space, and a bathroom that he rarely gave any attention to.
But years of neglect had left the place in a sorry state. It was a reflection of his life before everything started shifting, before the system had come crashing into his reality and flipped his world upside down.
Without thinking, he grabbed an old rag and a bottle of cleaner from under the sink. The smell of bleach filled the air as he began scrubbing down the countertops, losing himself in the mechanical rhythm of cleaning. The lethargy from earlier still clung to him, making every movement feel heavy, but the mental fog began to lift with each stroke of the cloth.
He didn't have much energy, but he couldn't sit still either. Not with his thoughts swarming around like a hive of bees, ready to sting at any moment of weakness. The system—his new reality—was too heavy a secret to share. The idea of confiding in anyone, even Reggie, filled him with dread.
What if he slipped and let something out? What if they didn't believe him? Worse yet, what if they did?
Martin shook his head, throwing himself deeper into the task. He wiped down the sink, scrubbed the stove, and began tossing trash into bags, working with a single-minded determination to distract himself from the weight pressing down on his chest. The fear of exposure gnawed at him.
He couldn't risk letting his guard down, not when the system was still so new, so unpredictable.
Hours passed in a blur as he moved from room to room, packing up garbage, clearing out old clothes he never wore, and organizing shelves that had been untouched for months. The floor was swept, mopped, and then mopped again for good measure. He was exhausted, his limbs aching, but at least his mind had been occupied by something other than the unsettling reality that had unfolded around him.
Every now and then, he took brief breaks—downing a glass of water or nibbling on something he'd pulled from the fridge. But as soon as his thoughts started drifting back to the system, to the villa, to the impossible, he'd jump back into action, scrubbing harder, cleaning faster. Anything to keep his hands busy, anything to avoid the suffocating thoughts that kept threatening to close in.
As the hours ticked by, the transformation was startling. The apartment, once a chaotic mess of dust, clutter, and neglect, now gleamed with a newfound cleanliness. The floor sparkled, the surfaces shone, and the piles of garbage bags by the door were the only remnants of the disaster it had been earlier in the day.
Even Martin had to admit it didn't feel like the same place anymore. He barely recognized the tidy, organized space as his own.
Finally, with the last garbage bag tied up and tossed aside, Martin collapsed onto the couch, the exhaustion hitting him all at once. His muscles ached, and his brain felt like it had been wrung out. But he was done. The apartment was spotless. And for the first time in days, it felt like he'd accomplished something—however small it might be in the grand scheme of things.
He glanced at the clock. Half an hour until midnight.
The familiar anxiety crept back in, but there was nothing left to clean, nothing left to organize. His mind returned to the system, to the unknown wish he'd be able to make in just a short while. Would tonight be different? Would the system reveal more of its rules?
With a sigh, Martin stood and crossed the room, grabbing the garbage bags and hauling them to the door. He didn't know what he'd wish for, not yet. But he'd figure it out. He had to.
As the final seconds before midnight ticked away, Martin's heart began to pound in his chest. He knew it was coming—he had felt it all day, lurking in the back of his mind like a shadow. And sure enough, when the clock struck twelve, the now-familiar chime echoed through his thoughts, and a faint shimmer filled the air in front of him.
Golden lines snaked through the space, swirling and twisting into a shape that gradually took form—a small, fist-sized token. The words Bronze Wish glowed softly on its surface, and below them, a countdown had already begun.
00:59
Martin stood frozen, watching as the seconds ticked away. He had seen this before, just last night—the same token, the same countdown. He had chosen not to act then, too overwhelmed by the shock of everything, too confused to make any decision at all. But now, he felt a strange calm settle over him. He understood what the system was offering.
This was a wish token. It could only be used during this one-minute window, and it granted a wish—within limits, he assumed, though those limits were still unclear. Last night, he had let the time slip by without taking advantage of it. Tonight, he wasn't going to waste it.
00:48
Martin's gaze locked onto the token, his mind racing. He had two tokens now—last night's and tonight's—and though the system didn't explicitly say what would happen if he didn't use them, something told him that wasting another one would be a mistake. He didn't know if these wishes stacked, but he wasn't about to risk losing the opportunity.
He considered the possibilities. What could he wish for? Money? Power? Knowledge? The system had already proven its ability to grant unimaginable rewards—the villa was proof of that. But Martin wasn't ready to draw too much attention to himself just yet. He needed to tread carefully.