Kabir knew he had been a burden to his family over the past three weeks. He had refused to carry out tasks assigned by his elder siblings and, at times, even defied his parents. He simply had no will to leave his bed, spending his days scrolling through social media and losing himself in novels — anything to escape the weight of a reality he wasn't ready to face.
Even his elder brother eventually grew weary of reprimanding him. One day, he simply said,
"Kabir, you need to get over this and start preparing for your future. Father won't be able to support us forever."
"And my salary is barely going to be enough for myself."
His elder brother, Adi, had just graduated from college and was set to join a small IT company. His monthly salary of ₹30,000 ($357) would barely cover his expenses in Mumbai, where apartment rents were notoriously steep. Adi, too, had once attempted the JEE (Joint Entrance Exam) but, like Kabir, had crumbled under the relentless stress and competition. He had at least held onto the hope that his younger brother — sharper and more diligent in his studies — would succeed where he had not.
That hope had faded when Kabir's results arrived. He had faltered under the same pressure.
At 10 p.m., with a renewed sense of purpose, Kabir filled out his college admission form. He was genuinely excited about this new chapter, but there was a complication — the reward he had received from the system couldn't be disclosed to his family. He would have to craft a convincing story, or their suspicions would never rest.
That night, Kabir slept soundly for the first time in weeks, and the next morning he woke up eagerly to check his daily reward.
[Congratulations! You have received ₹500 for your Daily Check-In.]
"So rewards from the system don't count toward net worth," Kabir muttered to himself.
"I suppose I'll still have to earn money through hard work," he sighed.
He had once imagined that the system would free him from financial struggle entirely. But it seemed even with its advantages, small hardships were unavoidable. He resolved to invest his time seriously into becoming a software engineer.
That afternoon, Kabir went to his brother's room to share the news about his college enrollment — classes were set to begin on the 1st of September — and to seek advice on learning programming and software development.
"I'm glad you're taking college seriously this time," Adi said. "In the IT sector, skills speak louder than degrees. You should start with programming languages as soon as possible."
"A friend of mine landed an excellent offer from Microsoft purely because of his technical abilities. If you can reach that level, I'd be proud," Adi added.
For the next five days, Kabir threw himself into learning programming with a focus and energy his family hadn't seen in months. Watching him finally apply himself brought visible relief and quiet smiles to the faces of those around him.
Over those six days, he accumulated ₹3,000 ($35) through daily check-ins — money that was entirely his to spend, no questions asked. The sight of it in his account brought a quiet satisfaction. Today was also the day of his first weekly check-in reward, and he had woken early in anticipation.
[Weekly Check-In is Ready!!]
[Congratulations! You have received ₹2,500 ($30).]
"I need to start generating real income as soon as possible," Kabir said with determination.
As the departure date for college drew nearer, his mother began carefully packing his essentials and clothing. Despite his excitement, Kabir never let up on his studies, continuing to practice programming daily. He even began exploring freelancing opportunities to build his net worth. Each evening, his mind drifted to images of private jets, sports cars, and trips around the world — dreams that filled him with an almost electric sense of possibility.
On the 30th of August, Kabir and his family stood together at their town's railway station, waiting for the train to Jaipur. His mother was in full advisory mode.
"Be careful during the journey and keep an eye on your bags. Don't stand near the coach door, and stay away from anyone involved with addictive substances. And don't forget—"
"I already know, Mummy. I'll be careful," Kabir said gently, cutting her off.
"He's been fending for himself for four years now — he'll be fine," his father said, turning to reassure her. Kabir had spent two years in boarding school and another two years in Jaipur preparing for JEE.
"He's still only 17!" his mother protested.
"Alright, the train's here, Mummy," Adi said, spotting it in the distance.
"Okay. Take care of yourself, Kabir — and call us the moment you reach college," his mother urged.
"I will," Kabir promised.
He stepped onto the coach, turned, and waved.
"Bye, Mummy. Bye, Papa. Bye, Bhai."
"Bye, take care," his mother called after him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.