Chapter 2 – A Quiet Night
The steady beeping of the infirmary's monitor filled the room with a soft, mechanical rhythm. Adrian blinked against the dim fluorescent light, his head heavy but no longer spinning. The sharp, humiliating scene with Sarah and Leo replayed uninvited in his mind, but he pushed it back down. Right now, all he wanted was to breathe.
"Awake?" The nurse glanced over from her desk. She was middle-aged, with kind but tired eyes, the type of staff who had seen countless fainting students drag themselves through these doors.
Adrian cleared his throat. "Yeah… sorry for the trouble."
"You were lucky," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "Your blood pressure dropped sharply. Stress, perhaps? You should take it easy. No fever, no serious injury. Just don't push yourself tonight."
Adrian nodded. "Thank you."
He stood carefully, his legs steady now, and picked up his bag. The nurse didn't fuss, just gave him one last glance as though measuring whether he might collapse again. When she saw color returning to his face, she returned to her paperwork, leaving him to the quiet.
Outside, the night had already wrapped the campus in darkness. Street lamps glowed along the path, their halos hazy in the late-summer humidity. Adrian stepped into the open air and drew in a deep breath. The faint scent of damp grass mixed with exhaust fumes drifted across the emptying courtyard.
His stomach growled. Loudly. He froze, then let out a humorless chuckle. In the chaos of the day—the breakup, the shouting, the humiliation—he had completely forgotten to eat. Now that everything was settling, hunger came crashing back like a wave.
On his left, just across the road, a small café's neon sign flickered: Moonlight Café. The glass windows glowed warmly, silhouettes of a few lingering customers visible inside. It wasn't one of those luxurious fine-dining places he'd seen Sarah scrolling through on her phone; it was plain, modest, the kind of spot students went when they had a bit of pocket money to spare.
His stomach growled again, making the decision for him.
⸻
The bell above the café door chimed softly when he pushed it open. Warm air brushed his face, carrying the aroma of freshly baked bread, grilled meat, and roasted coffee beans. A few students sat hunched over laptops, their earbuds in, typing furiously. At a corner table, a couple whispered over a shared slice of cake. The atmosphere was gentle, unhurried.
A waitress, probably not much older than Adrian, approached with a polite smile. "Good evening. Table for one?"
"Yes," Adrian said.
She guided him to a small booth by the window. The leather seat was a little cracked from years of use, but it was comfortable. Adrian set his bag down and picked up the menu. Prices ranged from a simple burger at twenty dollars to a steak meal for seventy. For a regular student, that was a splurge. For him… well, the system's glowing balance still echoed in his mind.
He wasn't going to go crazy here. Not yet. This wasn't the time or place for lavishness—it was just dinner. Something to fill his stomach.
"I'll have the house steak set," Adrian said when the waitress returned. "Medium rare. And a black coffee."
"Of course. Please wait a moment." She jotted it down with the efficiency of someone who'd repeated this phrase a hundred times.
While he waited, Adrian gazed out the window. The campus street was quiet now, the lamplight catching in puddles left from an earlier drizzle. A group of boys jogged past in sportswear, laughing about some inside joke. Ordinary life went on, utterly indifferent to his heartbreak or the strange new system inside his head.
When the steak arrived, sizzling faintly on its hot plate, Adrian realized just how empty his stomach truly was. The aroma of seared meat, the faint tang of pepper sauce—it was intoxicating. He picked up his fork and knife, and for a moment, all the pain of the day receded. Bite by bite, he let the simple act of eating ground him back into reality.
The coffee was strong, bitter, and hot. It cleared the fog in his head more effectively than anything else.
When he was done, the waitress returned with the bill on a small tray. "That'll be ninety dollars, sir."
Adrian reached into his pocket. His old wallet still sat there, stuffed with worn notes. But then he remembered the system's words. The host's balance is already bound to all the banks around the world. The host can use fingerprints, face, or pupils to pay.
He paused for a moment, then smiled faintly. "I'll pay by scan."
The waitress tilted her head slightly but nodded. He placed his thumb on the small handheld scanner she provided. A soft beep echoed. Payment complete.
The transaction was instant.
Her eyes flickered—not wide, not shocked, but a subtle narrowing, a hint of surprise. Students usually paid with crumpled cash, or maybe a budget card. Few used premium scans here. She gave him another curious glance.
But professionalism returned at once. She smiled politely, returned the scanner, and said, "Thank you, sir. Please come again."
Adrian nodded and left, the bell chiming again as he stepped into the cool night air.
⸻
The walk to his dormitory was quiet. The university paths were mostly empty now, save for a few scattered groups of students heading home. A couple of guys clustered around a vending machine, arguing over who owed who a drink. Two girls passed by with shopping bags, chatting about a new mobile game.
Adrian kept walking. The dorm building loomed ahead—tall, a little run-down, but still filled with life. He climbed the steps, the echo of his footsteps hollow in the stairwell.
When he reached his room and pushed the door open, silence greeted him. The air smelled faintly of instant noodles and cheap cologne. Posters of basketball players and half-crumpled schedules lined the walls. His roommates' beds were unoccupied; they were probably in an internet café, playing games until dawn as usual.
For once, Adrian was grateful for the solitude.
He dropped his bag onto his chair and collapsed onto the bed. The springs creaked under his weight. Staring at the ceiling, he let the day finally wash over him—the betrayal, the laughter,His chest tightened again, but this time he didn't let the anger consume him. He had something now. Something different.
"System," he whispered.
The panel appeared instantly in his mind's eye, glowing faintly against the darkness of the room.
[Host: Adrian Cross]
[Balance: $10,000,000,000,000,000]
[Body: 15 (Weak)]
[Mind: 28 (Normal)]
[Skills: None]
[Lavish Points: 0]
Beneath it, a new notification blinked:
[Reminder: Host has not yet spent beyond daily living. To grow stronger, true extravagance is required. Tomorrow awaits.]
Adrian closed his eyes, a tired smile curling on his lips.
"Tomorrow, then."
The room was silent except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan. For the first time in years, even with heartbreak gnawing at him, Adrian drifted into sleep with a strange sense of anticipation.