Back in his hospital bed, Zaky let the new mission sit heavily in his mind:
[Mission 4: Find a Way to Earn Your First 10,000 Rupiah.]
The words glowed faintly before fading from view, leaving behind both excitement and anxiety in their wake. Ten thousand rupiah wasn't a fortune—it was hardly even a snack in today's world. But to Zaky, it was a symbol. If he could make this amount, he could make more. Small steps, but real ones.
The thin white blanket clung to his legs as he shifted in bed, lost in thought. He had no phone, no cash, no resources beyond his worn notebook and whatever lay in the hospital around him. But that didn't discourage him. In fact, it lit a fire inside.
This was it—the beginning of something real. A way to stop dreaming and start doing, one tiny achievement at a time.
Later that morning, the nurse from before—the one who had smiled at his sketch—peeked in to check on him. She seemed livelier today, her exhaustion from the night shift gone.
"Good morning, Zaky! How are you feeling today?" she asked, her voice warm.
Zaky smiled politely. "A little better, thanks."
As she adjusted the IV tube beside him, Zaky hesitated. An idea began to form. The nurse seemed like someone who might appreciate small, thoughtful gestures—maybe, just maybe, there was an opportunity here.
"Nurse," Zaky asked cautiously, "do you think anyone here would be interested in drawings? Something simple—like thank-you cards or sketches?"
The nurse paused, considering his words with a tilt of her head. "Hmm… You know, I think some patients would love that. Especially the elderly ones. They get lonely." She smiled. "Why do you ask?"
Zaky shrugged, doing his best to seem casual. "I just thought… maybe it could help pass the time. Maybe I could make a few for people."
The nurse nodded thoughtfully. "That's a sweet idea. In fact…" She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled 10,000-rupiah bill. "How about this? I'll pay you to make one for the patient next door. Mrs. Sari. She hasn't had many visitors, and I think it'd cheer her up."
Zaky blinked, hardly believing what he'd just heard. His first real opportunity—just like that.
As soon as the nurse left, Zaky sat up straighter and grabbed his notebook. His pencil was still dull, and the paper was slightly crumpled from use, but that didn't matter. This was his chance.
He flipped to a clean page and let the pencil glide across the surface, slowly sketching a simple design. A cheerful flower in a vase with soft petals—something light and pleasant that might bring a little joy to someone feeling lonely.
His hand moved carefully, with deliberate strokes. He wanted this drawing to be perfect, even if it was small. It wasn't just about making the drawing—it was about getting it right.
As he added a final swirl to the flower's stem, he felt a flicker of pride rise in his chest. It wasn't much, but it was something real. A start.
When the nurse returned, Zaky handed over the small drawing with an awkward smile. "Here. I hope Mrs. Sari likes it."
The nurse studied the sketch for a moment, her eyes softening with approval. "It's beautiful, Zaky. I think she'll love it." She folded the drawing carefully and tucked it into her pocket. Then, with a kind smile, she placed the 10,000-rupiah note on his nightstand.
Zaky stared at the bill for a long moment. His first profit. It wasn't just money—it was proof that he could do this.
The soft chime of the system echoed faintly in his mind, signaling his success:
[Mission Complete: Find a Way to Earn Your First 10,000 Rupiah.]
[Reward: Basic Understanding of Personal Initiative.]
Zaky felt the knowledge settle into him, as if a piece of a larger puzzle had just clicked into place. The system wasn't only about money—it was teaching him how to create opportunities, how to take initiative and turn simple ideas into actions.
He stared at the 10,000-rupiah note, holding it between his fingers. It was wrinkled, thin, and ordinary. But to Zaky, it felt heavier than gold. It was his first taste of success—a small taste, but enough to leave him hungry for more.
Lying back on the pillow, Zaky thought about what the nurse had said. There were other patients, other people in need of small kindnesses. This hospital was full of opportunities if he was willing to look for them.
He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy. The 10,000-rupiah goal was just the beginning. But he had proven to himself that it was possible. He could create value, even with nothing but a pencil and some paper.
This small success might not seem like much to anyone else, but to Zaky, it was everything.
The taste of success lingered in his mind, sweet and addictive. He wanted more.
A new mission appeared, glowing faintly in his mind:
[Mission 5: Identify a Local Need and Offer a Solution.]
Zaky's heart raced. The missions were getting harder. Now, it wasn't just about small trades or quick sketches. He would have to think more carefully, look more closely at the people around him.
But that was okay. He was ready.
This small victory had sparked something inside him—motivation. It wasn't just about the money anymore. It was about proving to himself that he could do this. Every step forward, every small profit, every lesson learned—it was all building toward the life he wanted.
He tucked the 10,000-rupiah note safely into his notebook, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn't a lot, but it was his.
And as he drifted off to sleep that night, his thoughts were filled with possibilities. He had tasted success, and now, he wanted more.
Because every small profit brought him closer to his dream. And with each step, his motivation only grew stronger.