The hovercar's leather seat cradled Evan as it glided through the central district, the city's holo-lit towers blurring past the tinted windows.
Inside, the quiet hum of the engine and the System's faint presence were his only companions. As Hearthstone's Apex faded into the distance, Evan slumped slightly, his perfect posture unraveling for the first time all night.
His charcoal suit felt heavy now, the Valthorne Chronograph's tick a reminder of the performance he'd just pulled off.
He exhaled, long and shaky, releasing the tension he'd bottled up through hours of scrutiny, etiquette, and the group's deferential gazes.
'Young Master Quillian,' he thought, a wry laugh escaping his lips. 'What even was that?'
The System's azure panel flickered to life, its voice breaking the silence with a clinical calm.
[Assessment complete. Host: Evan Quillian. Evaluation score: 90/100. High passing grade achieved. Standards met in posture, utensil usage, conversational poise, and demeanor. Progress: 95%. Congratulations.]
Evan's eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. "Ninety?" he said, his voice hoarse from disuse. "That's… damn, I'll take it."
The score felt like a badge, proof he'd navigated the Obsidian Suite's pressure cooker without cracking. He leaned back, the leather creaking, and let the relief wash over him.
'I didn't just pass—I crushed it.'
[Reward unlocked for successful completion. Spinning wheel access granted. Additional achievement detected: High passing grade. Bonus reward granted. Two draws authorized. Proceed with draws now?]
Evan's grin faltered, replaced by a spark of excitement.
"Two draws?" he said, sitting up. "You're spoiling me now."
The System's rewards were already life-changing—the Valthorne, worth 2,500,000 AR, still gleamed on his wrist. Two spins meant two more shots at something extraordinary. He paused, considering the pattern.
"So, every mission I complete gets me a reward, right? As long as I don't screw it up?"
[Correct. Successful mission completion guarantees a reward. High performance may yield additional benefits, as demonstrated. Rewards scale with mission complexity.]
Evan nodded, his mind racing. 'Complete the mission, get the prize,' he thought. 'That's the deal.'
The System's structure was clear now—a game of risk and reward, with stakes he couldn't yet fully grasp. He glanced out the window, the city's neon glow reflecting in his eyes.
"Can I do the draws later?" he said. "I need a shower first. Dorm's not far, and I'm not spinning some magic wheel smelling like truffle foam."
[Draws can be deferred. Proceed to dormitory. System will remain on standby.]
The hovercar dropped him at Cinder Hall, its concrete facade a stark contrast to Hearthstone's Apex. Evan slipped inside, the dorm's halls quiet save for the hum of vending drones.
Marcus, Liam, and Torren were out—probably at their usual haunts—leaving the room empty. He stashed the suit carefully, the business cards from Rylan, Kael, Sylas, Varen, and Lian tucked in its pocket.
'Young Master Quillian,' he thought again, shaking his head as he grabbed a towel.
The title felt absurd, but the group's deference lingered, a puzzle he wasn't ready to solve.
The shower was bliss, hot water washing away the night's tension. Evan stood under the spray, his pale skin reddening, his newly styled hair damp and falling into his eyes.
The System's hum was faint, a background note as he replayed the evening—the Obsidian Suite, the Vynara Reserve, Lian pouring wine with that reverent look.
'Ninety out of a hundred,' he thought, a smile tugging at his lips. 'Not bad for an orphan with eight AR to his name.'
Back in his room, dressed in a faded shirt and jeans, Evan sat on his creaky bed, the cracked dataslate beside him. The dorm's dim light cast shadows, but he felt lighter than he had in weeks.
"Alright, System," he said, his voice steady. "Let's do the draws. Spin that wheel."
The azure panel flared, a virtual spinning wheel materializing in his vision. Its segments glowed with cryptic symbols, each promising something unknown.
The wheel spun, a blur of light and sound, slowing until it clicked on a golden segment. The System's voice followed, crisp and unemotional.
[First reward: Ownership of a luxurious villa, located at 7 Elysian Crescent, Elysian Heights. Estimated value: 45,000,000 AR. Property includes five bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a private holo-theater, infinity pool, and automated security drones. Title and documentation transferred to Host: Evan Quillian. Access granted immediately.]
Evan's jaw dropped, his breath catching. "A villa?" he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Forty-five million AR?"
Elysian Heights was the city's most exclusive neighborhood, a gated enclave of megacorp execs and holo-celebrities.
7 Elysian Crescent was a street he'd only seen in holo-ads, its mansions perched on cliffs with views of the entire skyline. He ran a hand through his damp hair, his heart pounding.
'I own a villa. Me, an orphan who's never had a real home.'
The thought was surreal, almost laughable, but the System's panel displayed the deed, his name in glowing script.
He stared at the panel, the reality sinking in. As an orphan, he'd owned nothing—no family, no roots, just a dorm bed and a battered backpack. Now, he had a villa worth more than most people earned in a lifetime.
'What am I supposed to do with a villa?' he thought, half-dazed. 'Move out of Cinder Hall? Host parties for Marcus and Liam?'
The idea was absurd, but the deed was real, a reward for playing the System's game.
"Alright," he said, shaking off the shock. "One more spin. Let's see what's next."
The wheel reappeared, spinning faster this time, its symbols blurring into a kaleidoscope. It slowed, clicking on a silver segment, and the System's voice returned.
[Second reward: Mystery Box Set. Contents: One large black draw box containing five unique keys. Two smaller boxes, each containing one item. Boxes will materialize upon Host's command. Note: Keys and items are single-use, with effects to be revealed upon activation.]
Evan blinked, leaning forward. "Mystery boxes?" he said, his curiosity piqued.
The panel displayed images: a sleek black box, about the size of a briefcase, with a lock mechanism and five keys inside, each distinct in design.
Two smaller boxes, palm-sized, sat beside it, their surfaces unadorned but faintly glowing.
'What's with the keys?' he thought, his mind racing. 'And what's in the small boxes? This is… weird.'
The villa was concrete, a tangible fortune, but this reward felt like a riddle, its potential both thrilling and unsettling.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the dorm's hum a faint backdrop.
"So, I've got a mansion and some cryptic boxes," he said, half to himself. "What's the catch?"
Evan glanced at the Valthorne, its tick a steady pulse, and felt the weight of the night settle over him.
'Whatever's in those boxes,' he thought, 'it's part of the game. And I'm playing to win.'
"Alright," he said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline. "Let's open the two small boxes first. Save the big one for later."
The panel pulsed, and the two smaller boxes materialized on his bed, their surfaces smooth and cool to the touch. They were palm-sized, unadorned except for a faint shimmer, like liquid metal under the dorm's dim light.
Evan picked up the first, his fingers tracing its edge. It clicked open with a soft hiss, revealing a sleek key fob embedded in a velvet lining.
The fob's display flickered, projecting a holo-image of a supercar—a Vynix Zephyr, its aerodynamic curves and glowing undercarriage unmistakable.
The second box opened to reveal another fob, this one for a Kryon Phantom, its sleek design and holo-paint finish equally breathtaking. Both were sports cars, the kind featured in holo-ads for the ultra-rich.
Evan's jaw dropped, his breath catching. "Supercars?" he said, half-laughing. "Two of them?"
The villa was shocking enough, a fortune he could barely comprehend, but now he owned two supercars, each a masterpiece of engineering.
As an orphan scraping by in a dorm, the idea was absurd. He held the fobs, their weight real in his hands, and shook his head.
'First a luxury villa, now this? What's next, a private shuttle?'
The System's voice cut through his thoughts, calm and clinical.
[Reward details: Vynix Zephyr, estimated value 8,500,000 AR, and Kryon Phantom, estimated value 9,200,000 AR. Vehicles are parked in the secure underground garage of Pinnacle Plaza, central district. Access granted via key fobs. Retrieve at Host's convenience.]
Evan leaned back, the bed creaking under him. "Eight and a half million, nine million?" he muttered, his eyes wide.
Pinnacle Plaza was a legend—a glittering fortress of luxury where megacorp execs and holo-celebrities shopped for off-world gems and bespoke tech.
He'd walked past its towering entrance once, its holo-displays blinding, and felt like he'd stepped into another world. Now, two supercars worth a combined 17,700,000 AR waited for him there, parked among the elite's toys.
'I can just… pick them up,' he thought, his mind reeling. 'Like it's nothing.'
The System's panel flickered again, its tone almost encouraging.
[Rewards are the beginning of Host's ascent. New mission issued. Objective: Invest 10,000,000 AR within one month. Tool provided: Black card with 10,000,000 AR credit for investment purposes.]
[Failure to fully invest the amount by the deadline will result in revocation of all rewards, including villa, supercars, and prior assets. Mission begins now.]
A sleek black card materialized on the bed, its surface embossed with a faint holo-chart pattern, Evan's name etched in silver. He picked it up, its weight heavier than it should be, and stared at the balance displayed on its edge: 10,000,000 AR.
His stomach twisted. "Ten million AR to invest?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "In a month, or lose everything?"
The villa, the supercars, the Valthorne Chronograph—they'd all vanish if he failed. The System's stakes were relentless, and its silence after the mission's announcement felt like a gauntlet thrown down.
Evan's mind spun, his earlier excitement replaced by a cold knot of uncertainty.
'Invest? In what?' He knew nothing about markets, stocks, or megacorp ventures.
His life had been diner shifts and dorm rent, not corporate deals. The business cards from Rylan, Kael, Sylas, Varen, and Lian sat in his suit pocket, their companies—Nexus Interactive, Vynix Motors, Cryon Beverages, Varen Properties, Elara Gems—flashing through his mind.
'Could I ask them for help?' he thought, then dismissed it. 'No way. They're calling me Young Master Quillian. I can't look like I'm out of my depth.'
He set the black card on his dataslate, its glow casting faint reflections on the dorm's cracked walls.
"I'll figure it out later," he said, more to himself than the System.
The villa, the supercars, the card were his for now, but the mission's deadline loomed like a guillotine. He needed to think, to plan, to wrap his head around wielding more wealth—and the crushing risk of losing it all.