Knock, knock, knock…
A frantic pounding on the door jolted Alex Thompson awake. He scrambled out of bed, still groggy from sleep.
Alex, who usually slept in just his boxers, grabbed a T-shirt and slid on a pair of flip-flops before heading to the door. He'd barely pulled the shirt over his head when a familiar voice bellowed from outside:
"Alex Thompson, if you don't pay the rent today, you're out on the street! You've got the nerve to rent an apartment, but not to open the door? You've got the nerve…"
Oh, crap!
No need to hear more—it was Mrs. Karen Miller, his short, stocky landlady, her voice like a drill sergeant's.
The mental image of her made Alex shake his head. Don't think about it. Just don't.
He glanced at his phone. Rent wasn't even due for another week! Yet Mrs. Miller had been hounding him every other day this week. It was driving him nuts.
What made it worse? Alex suspected she had a thing for him. With his decent looks and athletic build, he'd caught her eyeing him more than once. The second time she came for rent, he couldn't forget her crooked smile, flashing slightly yellowed teeth as she patted his shoulder. "Alex, buddy," she'd said, "if you're short on cash, I can work something out."
Her hand had slid down to his bicep, lingering a bit too long.
Alex had nearly jumped out of his skin. Nope. Not happening.
He'd forced a grin and said, "Mrs. Miller, I'll have it in a couple of days, promise!" She'd backed off, probably trying to play nice, but lately, her visits were getting bolder. Alex was convinced she was after more than just the rent.
Ugh. Gross.
How had his life come to this? Fresh out of college, Alex had landed a programming job that paid a measly $3,000 a month after taxes. Rent for his tiny Chicago apartment was $1,200, and daily expenses—groceries, gas, the occasional bar tab with coworkers or old college buddies—ate up another $900. Splitting the bill at group dinners still cost him $300-$400 a month. After all that, he was lucky to save $500 a month.
Over a year, he'd scraped together about $6,000 in savings. Then, last September, his mom called. The family was buying a house in their hometown for Alex to settle into one day. They had $110,000 saved, but the down payment was $125,000 after negotiations. They needed an extra $15,000.
Since Alex was their only son, the house would eventually be his. His parents promised to cover the mortgage for ten years. So, he'd sent his entire savings—$6,000—home to help.
That's when his luck took a nosedive. A week after transferring the money, his company went bankrupt. Poof—gone. Alex and the other junior employees were left jobless, stunned.
He bounced back quickly, landing a system maintenance gig. But just as he settled in, the police raided the place. Turns out, the company was a front for an online scam. Everyone except the development and production teams got hauled off. And his paycheck for over a month of work? Nonexistent.
Now, jobless again, Alex had spent the last two weeks applying to every tech job in Chicago. Nothing clicked.
Staring at the ceiling, he muttered, "Come on, universe, can you cut me a break?"
Maybe his curse carried some weight, or maybe Mrs. Miller just got tired of yelling. Heavy footsteps thudded away, heading upstairs.
Alex let out a sigh. Sure, Mrs. Miller was a pain, but part of him envied her. She owned this entire building—eight units. Three were small studios like his, renting for $1,200 each. The other five were two-bedroom apartments, split among roommates for $900 each. That was over $12,000 a month in rent, quadruple his old salary.
Sure, this was a quieter part of Chicago, not downtown, but the rent wasn't exactly cheap either.
His mind raced through all this in seconds, grateful it didn't crash like an overloaded server. Confirming Mrs. Miller was gone, Alex turned back toward his apartment.
Ding.
A sharp sound rang in his head.
Am I hearing things?
Before he could process it, a clear, youthful voice echoed in his mind: "Congratulations on unlocking the WealthMaster Sign-in System! Sign in daily to receive incredible rewards. Would you like to sign in today?"
Alex froze. This wasn't a hallucination, was it?
The voice chimed again: "Host, would you like to sign in today?"
A avid reader of sci-fi and fantasy, Alex knew a system prompt when he heard one. Even if it was all in his head, what was the harm in playing along?
"Sign in," he said, voice trembling.
"Sign-in successful! Congratulations, host, on receiving the Starter Reward Pack!"
Alex's heart skipped. This is real?
"What's in the starter pack?" he asked, staring at the wall.
The voice replied, "Host, you don't need to speak aloud. Just think your commands, and the system will receive them."
It continued, "Would you like to open the Starter Reward Pack?"
Alex's mind flashed back to the system's name—WealthMaster Sign-in System. This could be big.
Open the Starter Reward Pack, he thought.
A glowing blue interface appeared before his eyes, like something out of a sci-fi movie. Below an avatar of himself was a large grid. In the center sat a red gift box, pulsing with light.
A flash filled the room.
"Congratulations, host, on receiving a penthouse suite in One Chicago Residences, fully furnished with smart-home technology!"