Leaving Chicago was the hardest thing I ever did—and also the easiest.

I grew up in the Alfonso family, one of the most powerful names in the city, but I was always an afterthought. My father, a successful but distant businessman, had little use for his youngest child. My half-siblings were all older and better equipped to inherit his wealth and power. As the seventh child, I barely existed in their eyes.

The real blow came when my mother died when I was just fifteen. She had been the only one who truly cared for me, the only one who showed any sign of warmth in our cold, money-driven home. After her death, the family grew even more distant, and I was left to fend for myself in a world that had no place for me.

My father was too busy with his empire to notice, and my half-siblings, as cruel as they were, didn't even pretend to care. I was nothing but a reminder of my mother's passing, and they made sure I knew it. It wasn't long before I realized the truth: the Alfonso family wasn't a family to me at all. It was a business. And I was nothing more than an unfortunate byproduct.

When I turned nineteen, I decided enough was enough. I'd been saving what little I could from my odd jobs and meager allowances, but it wasn't much. The day I decided to leave Chicago, I had just enough to make a fresh start. It was time to cut ties, leave behind the ghost of my past, and go somewhere no one knew my name.

Inchoate City wasn't much—far from it, actually. It was a small, rundown city, neglected by most, with cracked streets and tired buildings. But that was exactly what I needed. It wasn't the opulence of Chicago, and it certainly wasn't home. But it was a place where no one would know the name Alfonso. It was a place where I could be someone else—someone who wasn't a shadow.

I found a cheap apartment in the heart of the city, in a neighborhood where the buildings were old and the air smelled like dust. But it was mine. And that feeling of ownership, of independence, was something I had never felt before. I didn't have much, but for the first time in my life, I was free to try, to fail, and to build something that was mine.

I opened a small store in a dilapidated part of the city. It wasn't glamorous, just a simple shop with second-hand goods and whatever I could gather to sell. I worked from dawn to dusk, trying to make ends meet. The first weeks were rough—customers were scarce, and business was slow. It felt like no one cared. But I kept going. I had to.

One evening, just as I was about to close up shop, an older man walked in. He looked out of place—dressed in a clean suit, his eyes sharp and calculating. He bought a few things and gave me a curt nod as he turned to leave.

"Watch yourself here," he said, his voice low. "This city's not for the faint of heart."

I didn't understand it at the time, but the warning stuck with me. He didn't know me, didn't know the struggles I'd faced, but somehow, I knew he was right. Inchoate was a city of survival, not comfort. If I was going to make it, I would need more than just a storefront and a few good intentions.

That night, after I closed the store and counted my earnings, something strange happened. I was exhausted, preparing to call it a day, when my phone buzzed. It wasn't a message from a friend, or a business email. It was something completely unexpected.

A notification appeared on my screen:

[Ding! Congratulations on activating the Hundred Times Income Multiplier.]

I stared at the message, unsure if I was seeing things. Was it a joke? A scam? I rubbed my eyes and read it again.

[From now on, all your earnings will be multiplied by one hundred. This is your chance to change your fate.]

I froze. What did this even mean? How was this possible? But there was no time to question it. I knew one thing for sure: this was an opportunity. A chance I couldn't afford to ignore.

I immediately went back to my store, eager to test it. Every sale, every transaction I made from that moment on, was worth ten times more than it had been just hours before. My modest shop began to generate profits at an alarming rate. What started as a small business in a run-down neighborhood began to show signs of potential. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I was in control.

This version keeps the core events of Jack's escape from Chicago, his struggles in Inchoate, and the moment he discovers the Hundred Times Income Multiplier, but with more emotional depth and pacing. The chapter emphasizes Jack's sense of isolation, his determination, and the shift that happens when he gets his first taste of success.

Let me know if you'd like me to continue with the next chapters or expand further!