Ethan tugged on his university tracksuit, savoring the cool touch of the fabric as he zipped it all the way up. It was one of those moments where something as simple as a well-fitted tracksuit felt like armor.
He smiled faintly at the thought, unaware of the irony that such "armor" would cost him dearly before the day was through.
"This is it, Ethan," he murmured to himself.
He had a few things to be taken care of today. He needed it to be done quickly so that he could focus on reaping the rewards from the missions.
There were a lot of things that motivated him right now. He was still feeling the nagging unease. He still felt like he was being watched. Ethan was worried not only for his safety but for his family, too.
Was it paranoia? Or was there truly someone—or something—out there, shadowing his every move?
He looked through the window again. Everything seemed... normal.
An elderly man shuffled past with his dog; a delivery driver yawned behind the wheel of his van. Perfectly ordinary. And yet, Ethan couldn't shake the suspicion that was hidden among the routine, and someone—or something—waited.
He moved through the living room, glancing at the familiar scene of his younger siblings lounging on the worn-out couch. Jacob, the older of the two, held the remote with all the solemnity of a judge deliberating a case.
Lily, cross-legged beside him, tapped her fingers impatiently on the armrest.
Jacob groaned, "There's nothing on," as he flipped aimlessly through the channels.
"Try something other than cartoons," Lily suggested, though she didn't sound optimistic about the prospects.
Ethan lingered at the door, a faint smile tugging at his lips. They were home for the school break, which meant the house was livelier than usual but also made him more reluctant to leave.
With their parents at work, the weight of responsibility settled squarely on his shoulders.
"Jacob," he said. His tone was calm, but his siblings could feel that it was firmer than it used to be. "Keep an eye on Lily while I'm out, okay?"
Jacob was stunned, but nevertheless, his eyes glued to the screen. "Yeah. Don't worry, big bro," he replied, lacking tone, lacking enthusiasm.
It was so typically Jacob. Ethan did not mind, and he wished not to make it an issue. After all, he understood well how boring it was to be stuck indoors with nothing other than the television during school break.
He walked toward the door. When his hand was on the door handle, he paused. Ethan turned back.
"Jacob. Lily," he called, his tone a bit firmer now.
This time, both Jacob and Lily turned their heads, their curiosity piqued by the uncharacteristic weight in Ethan's tone.
"I want you guys to be extra careful today," he said. He tried to sound casual, but his worries betrayed him. "Never open the door for anyone."
Lily was clearly confused. "We always do that. You, Mom, and Dad remind us a hundred times a week."
Ethan chuckled softly, touched by her earnestness. "Yeah, I know, Lily. But today's different. Just… be extra careful, alright?"
He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to say more, then added, "I heard about a robbery nearby. People are getting desperate. I just want you two to be safe."
Jacob, who was slouching lazily on the couch, replied. "About that... I've heard it too. Don't worry, Ethan. We'll be careful. Besides, nothing of value could be taken from our house."
Ethan was slightly taken aback by Jacob's reply. But he chose to simply nod, the weight on his chest easing slightly. They didn't need to know the full depth of his concern. As long as they stayed alert, he could handle the rest.
"Alright then. I'm going out for a while," he said.
Stepping outside into the crisp morning air, he paused to take in the familiar street. It was quiet as usual, but the stillness felt off somehow—too empty, too calculated.
A few people walked along the sidewalk, each moving with quiet tension like they were part of a scene waiting to unfold.
Ethan adjusted his backpack strap and started walking, his eyes darting between faces but never lingering too long. The feeling of being watched was still there—stronger now, pressing on him like a heavyweight.
'Am I imagining this?' he wondered, his steps quickening without him meaning to.
The heightened awareness felt like a new instinct, sharpened by the system and the wealth he'd gained. He knew both made him a target. If anyone figured out what he had, they'd come for it without hesitation.
"I can't afford to slip up," he muttered under his breath, the sound of his own heartbeat almost drowning out his words.
A few blocks later, his suspicion turned into certainty. Two men trailed behind him. One was tall and lean, moving smoothly but too deliberately.
The other was shorter and broad-shouldered, with the solid frame of someone used to heavy labor. They tried to blend in, but to Ethan, they stood out like a flashing sign: We're following you.
So it's not just in my head, Ethan thought, a surge of adrenaline rushing through him.
He slowed his pace, pretending to check his phone.
And they did.
From the corner of his eye, he saw them adjust their pace to match.
It was unmistakable now. They weren't just coincidentally heading the same way. They were following him.
Ethan's mind raced, trying to piece together a plan.
Should he confront them? Run? Or play along until he could lose them?
Whatever he decided, one thing was certain; this wasn't going to be an ordinary morning stroll.
Feeling his pulse quicken, Ethan's mind raced. Confrontation wasn't an option—not here, not with bystanders scattered around who might get caught up in the chaos.
He needed a plan, something clever and subtle, to slip away unnoticed.
Without breaking stride, Ethan suddenly shifted into a power walk, just brisk enough to create some distance without raising alarms. He didn't glance back, but he could almost feel the panic ripple through his pursuers.
"What is he doing now?" Mark, the shorter of the two, groaned, already panting. His stocky frame betrayed him, his shirt damp with sweat and clinging uncomfortably.
Zidan, tall and wiry, shot him an incredulous look. "Morning cardio? What kind of kid just decides to jog in the middle of the city?"
"Sure, it's totally normal to exercise with a stuffed backpack. Think he knows we're onto him?" Mark said with a snort. He had already been wiping the sweat on his forehead.
"Doubt it," Zidan muttered, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Rich kids do weird stuff. Maybe he's just burning calories from his five-course breakfast."
Mark, now practically wheezing, retorted, "If this is what rich people call fun, I'll stick to my morning coffee and bagel. This is torture."
"Less complaining, you fool," Zidan snapped, trying to mask his own struggle to keep pace. "We can't lose him. He's our ticket to the big leagues."
Meanwhile, Ethan couldn't help but smirk as the sounds of their labored breaths and muttered grumbles began to fade. Subtle, they were not.
Their lack of stealth—and fitness—was glaringly obvious. Still, they were persistent, and Ethan knew he'd have to up his game if he wanted to lose them for good.
Time to see what he was really made of.
That was when, all of a sudden, Ethan picked up his pace. He jogged slowly before fully sprinting.
He was surprised to see how easily he was able to thread through the morning bustle.
Ethan felt that his legs had discovered the lost gear. He did not know if he had become faster than he used to when he was playing football. But the feeling was similar.
University life had made his life dull, and he believed his physique had deteriorated since then.
'Whoa.' Ethan had no idea he could run like this. Was this some kind of instinct kicking in? Or maybe all that adrenaline finally found a purpose?
Behind him, chaos erupted.
"WHAT THE—?!" Zidan shouted, his eyes wide as he watched Ethan vanish around a corner with startling speed. "Is he a track star or something? How is he that fast?!"
Mark, red-faced and gasping, waved a hand in despair. "I told you, man! These rich kids are built differently. Nobody normally runs like that—especially not with a backpack!"
"Then why can't we catch a kid?!" Zidan growled, frustration lacing his voice. His long legs were working overtime, but even he knew it was a losing battle.
Mark, slowing to a defeated stagger, panted out, "Because we… are not… track stars! And also, breakfast. I blame breakfast."
Zidan stopped to glare at him, but even his frustration couldn't hide the truth. Ethan had given them the slip—and they both knew it.
As he rounded the next corner, Ethan eased his pace and slipped into a narrow alley. Pressing his back against the cool brick wall, he took a steadying breath, his lips twitching into a smirk.
Whoever those two were, they had no idea who they were dealing with.
'Just barely,' Ethan thought, swiping his sleeve across his damp forehead. His breath came in short, sharp bursts as his legs tingled from the sudden exertion.
He couldn't ignore it any longer—his endurance needed serious work. If he'd been forced to run farther or even defend himself, well, the outcome wouldn't have been ideal.
Straightening up, he tried to focus on the task at hand. Earlier that morning, he'd scoured the web, narrowing down property agencies likely to have the kind of sleek, professional office space he envisioned.
The mission demanded efficiency, and Ethan was determined to visit as many properties as possible before the day was out. The sooner he checked this off his list, the sooner he could focus on the other missions.
And oh, what a list it was.
"Increasing status, hiring twenty people, and developing an app," he muttered to himself.
These weren't ordinary tasks—they sounded more like chapters from a seasoned entrepreneur's memoir than the to-do list of a college student.
Still, Ethan was optimistic. Those missions, compared to this one, seemed manageable. But they weren't as straightforward as they sounded.
He had to set the foundation first, and that started with finding the right office—a symbol of legitimacy and ambition rolled into one.
Walking briskly toward the first agency on his list, Ethan couldn't shake the lingering thought of how close he'd come to being caught that morning.
If it hadn't been for those attribute upgrades, things could have taken a disastrous turn.
Even so, the reality was plain; he wasn't invincible, far from it.
'I need to get stronger,' he resolved, his jaw tightening. 'And quickly.'