Ethan Ward stood in his cramped Calverton apartment, the new Calverton Elite Jacket draped over his shoulders like a second skin. The black leather gleamed under the dim bulb flickering above, a stark contrast to the peeling paint and water-stained ceiling he'd called home for years. His mattress sagged in the corner, a relic of the broke nobody he'd been just days ago. Now, with $274.20 in his account, a $120,000 Astellon Vantage parked downstairs, and a futuristic Portable Energy Core blueprint tucked in his System Inventory, that nobody was fading fast. The Galactic Ascension System had flipped his world upside down, and he was still catching his breath.
The Holo-Comm on his wrist hummed as he fiddled with it, the tiny projector flickering with static. "Come on, work," he muttered, tapping it. A faint holographic screen popped up—blank, no signal—but the sleek design screamed high-tech. Another gift from the system, another step up. He grinned, glancing at the cracked mirror. The jacket, the gadget, the car—he looked like someone who mattered. For the first time, he felt it too.
The system's text flared in his vision, crisp and commanding.
[Task: Identify Vincent's affiliation. Reward: 2000 credits, Random Luxury Item. Time limit: 6 days remaining.]
Ethan pulled Vincent's silver card from his pocket, tracing the spiral symbol with his thumb. "Who are you, you smug bastard?" he murmured. The guy knew too much—about the system, the blueprint, maybe even Ethan's next move. That others want it line stuck with him. Was Vincent a scout? A rival? The system wasn't talking, but Ethan's gut—amped by Basic Financial Acumen—told him to dig deeper.
His phone buzzed—Marcus, the broker from Sterling Investments. Calverton Shipping steady at $50. NexTech up 5%, $21/share. OmniCorp jumped—$28/share now. Good picks, kid. Ethan's pulse quickened. His $1,800 in NexTech was now $1,890, and his 50 OmniCorp shares—free from the system—had climbed to $1,400. Over $3,000 in assets, and he hadn't lifted a finger since yesterday. "Not bad," he said, pocketing the phone. He'd hold, let it grow. The system rewarded action, but it also rewarded smarts.
A sharp rap on the door jolted him. He opened it, expecting another mysterious package, but instead found Mia Torres—his neighbor, a wiry artist with paint-stained overalls and a perpetual scowl. "Ward," she said, arms crossed. "That fancy car downstairs yours? Woke me up at 3 a.m. with that engine."
Ethan smirked, leaning against the frame. "Yeah, it's mine. Sorry about the noise—comes with the territory."
Mia's eyes narrowed, flicking to his jacket. "What territory? You hit the lottery or something? Last week you were begging Grayson for an extension."
"Things change," Ethan said, activating Charisma Boost on instinct. The ten-minute surge hit, his voice smoothing out, his posture straightening. "Got a new gig, new opportunities. You'll see more upgrades soon."
She blinked, her scowl softening. "Huh. Well, keep it quiet, hotshot. Some of us still work for a living." She turned to leave, but paused. "Looks good on you, though—that jacket."
The system chimed as she walked off.
[Task completed: Impress a skeptic. Reward: 600 credits, Random Skill Unlock—Negotiation (Passive). Total credits: 4150.]
Ethan shut the door, laughing. Negotiation (Passive)—5% better at deals and persuasion, stacking with his charisma. "Perfect," he said, flexing his hands. He could talk his way into—or out of—anything now. The system was turning him into a machine, piece by piece.
His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since that ruined steak at Nova Grill. The $274.20 wouldn't stretch far, not with his new tastes. He needed cash flow, not just stocks. Grabbing his keys, he headed downstairs, the Vantage waiting like a loyal steed. Tony Russo lingered near the dumpster, smoking a cigarette, but he avoided Ethan's gaze after last night's smackdown. Good—word was spreading.
Ethan drove to Horizon Market, a mid-range grocery spot near the docks. He loaded a cart with real food—chicken, rice, veggies, even a bottle of decent wine—stuff he'd skipped for years to save pennies. At the checkout, the total flashed: $87.50. He swiped his card, holding his breath—$274.20 minus $87.50 left $186.70. Still afloat.
As the cashier bagged his haul, the system pinged.
[Task: Upgrade your lifestyle. Reward: 1200 credits, Random Income Boost. Time limit: Completed.]
Ethan froze as his phone buzzed—a deposit alert. $2,000, no source, just like before. New balance: $2,186.70. "You've got to be kidding me," he whispered, grinning. The system loved this—every step up triggered more rewards. He grabbed his bags, practically floating to the car.
Back home, he cooked—a simple stir-fry, but it tasted like victory. The wine was crisp, the jacket warm, the Holo-Comm a quiet promise on his wrist. He was living, not just surviving. But as he ate, a shadow passed his window—quick, deliberate. He set the glass down, peering out. Nothing—just the alley below, trash fluttering in the breeze. Still, his skin prickled.
The system chimed, unprompted.
[Alert: Surveillance detected. Bonus reward unlocked—$1,500 cash injection. New balance: $3,686.70. Stay vigilant.]
Ethan's grin faded. Surveillance? Vincent's crew? Someone after the blueprint? He checked the Portable Energy Core in his Inventory—still there, untouchable unless he pulled it out. "You want it?" he muttered. "Come and get it."
His phone rang—unknown number. He answered, wary. "Yeah?"
"Ethan Ward," a woman's voice said, low and clipped. "Nice car. Nice jacket. Moving up fast, aren't you?"
"Who's this?" Ethan demanded, standing.
A soft laugh. "Call me Selene. Vincent says hi. We're impressed—but careful. The system's generous, but it's not yours alone." The line clicked dead.
Ethan stared at the phone, Vincent's card burning a hole in his pocket. Selene. Another player? The system flared.
[Task update: Identify Vincent's affiliation—progress noted. New task: Secure your assets. Reward: 1500 credits, Random Property Deed (Tier 1). Time limit: 5 days.]
"Secure my assets?" he said, pacing. The car, the blueprint, his growing cash—they were targets now. He needed a plan—locks, a safe, maybe a new place. That Property Deed reward dangled like bait. A house? An office? His mind spun with possibilities.
A knock—soft, hesitant. He opened the door to find a kid, maybe sixteen, in a hoodie. "Uh, you Ethan Ward?" the kid asked, holding a sleek black box. "Some guy in a suit paid me to drop this off."
Ethan took it, suspicious. Inside was a silver wristwatch—elegant, heavy, with a faint hum. The system chimed.
[Bonus reward: Luxury Item—Quantum Chronometer. Value: $2,000. Features: Time dilation detection, encrypted comms link. Use wisely.]
The kid bolted before Ethan could ask more. He strapped on the Quantum Chronometer, its face glowing faintly. Time dilation? Comms? This wasn't just a watch—it was tech on par with the blueprint. Vincent—or Selene—knew how to play him.
His Holo-Comm buzzed, syncing with the watch. A distorted voice crackled through: "Ward. You're a blip on the radar now. Keep climbing—or get crushed." It cut off, leaving silence.
Ethan clenched his jaw, the watch ticking softly. The system was a goldmine, but it was dragging him into something bigger—something dangerous. Calverton's streets hummed outside, oblivious to the game unfolding. He had cash, toys, and skills, but enemies too. Vincent, Selene, "others"—they were closing in.
He sat, staring at his stir-fry, appetite gone. The broke clerk was dead, but the Wealth King needed to fight to survive. Tomorrow, he'd chase answers—starting with that spiral symbol. For now, he locked the door, the Quantum Chronometer a cold weight on his wrist. The system had lit the path. Time to run it.