The co-working space was quieter than usual. A light drizzle tapped against the frosted windows, and the usual hum of conversation had been replaced by the soft clatter of keyboards and the occasional cough. Ethan stepped inside, his coat damp, his thoughts heavier than the weather.
He had barely slept. The sabotage from Kaito had shaken him more than he cared to admit. It wasn't just the code—it was the intent. The precision. The message. Someone had crossed a line, and Ethan needed to know how deep that line ran.
Hiroshi Tanaka was seated in his usual spot, sipping tea and reviewing a pitch deck on his tablet. He looked up as Ethan approached, his expression unreadable.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Tanaka said.
Ethan sat down, his fingers gripping the edge of the table. "I need to ask you something. Off the record."
Tanaka raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Go ahead."
Ethan hesitated. He wasn't sure how much to reveal. The System was his secret—his advantage. But if anyone could help him understand what he was dealing with, it was Tanaka.
"Have you ever heard of something called the Billionaire's Path System?"
Tanaka's eyes didn't widen. They narrowed.
He set down his tea. "Where did you hear that name?"
"I didn't hear it," Ethan said. "I live it."
There was a long silence. Tanaka leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, gaze fixed on Ethan like he was recalibrating everything he thought he knew.
"You're not the first," Tanaka said quietly.
Ethan's breath caught. "What do you mean?"
Tanaka glanced around, then lowered his voice. "I've mentored three others over the past fifteen years. All of them had... something. A system. A framework. They never called it by name, but they described modules, objectives, countdowns. One of them disappeared. One burned out. One made it—barely."
Ethan felt the room tilt. "So it's real. And it's not just me."
Tanaka nodded. "It's rare. Selective. And dangerous."
Ethan leaned forward. "Do you know where it comes from?"
Tanaka shook his head. "No one does. Some say it's an experimental AI. Others think it's a psychological test run by a shadow organization. I've heard rumors about a lab in Kyoto, a think tank in Osaka, even whispers about military ties. But nothing concrete."
Ethan's mind raced. The System had always felt personal—like a second chance tailored just for him. But now, it felt like a trap. A game with rules he didn't understand and players he couldn't see.
"I thought I was rebuilding my life," Ethan said. "But now I'm not sure whose game I'm playing."
Tanaka studied him. "You're smart. Strategic. But you're also human. That's what the System doesn't account for."
Ethan frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It pushes you toward efficiency. Optimization. Wealth. But it doesn't care about cost. Emotional, ethical, relational. It treats people like variables. And if you're not careful, you start doing the same."
Ethan thought of Isabelle. Her sketches. Her laughter. Her quiet brilliance. She wasn't a variable. She was the reason he still felt grounded.
"I won't let it change me," he said.
Tanaka smiled faintly. "Good. But be warned—others will. Your rival, for example."
"Kaito Murase," Ethan said. "He's already sabotaged my code."
Tanaka's expression darkened. "Then you're in the deep end. Kaito's not just competitive. He's surgical. He doesn't build. He consumes."
Ethan nodded. "I've seen it."
Tanaka leaned forward. "Then listen carefully. Protect your code. Protect your people. And most importantly, protect your mind. The System rewards progress, but it punishes hesitation. You'll be tempted to cut corners. To sacrifice relationships for results. Don't."
Ethan felt the weight of the words settle in his chest. He had come here for answers, but what he'd found was a warning—and a mirror.
"I want to beat him," Ethan said. "But not by becoming him."
Tanaka nodded. "Then build something he can't touch. Something with soul."
They sat in silence for a moment, the rain outside growing heavier.
[System Update: Insight Logged]
Mentor Status: Verified
New Module Unlocked: Ethical Compass
Function: Tracks emotional cost of strategic decisions
Status: Passive
Ethan opened the new tab. It was simple—just a graph showing emotional stability, relationship health, and ethical alignment. It pulsed softly, like a heartbeat.
He closed the laptop and stood. "Thank you."
Tanaka smiled. "Don't thank me yet. Just make it count."
As Ethan stepped back into the rain, he felt something shift—not in the System, but in himself. He wasn't just a player anymore. He was a builder. A protector. A strategist with a conscience.
And if the System didn't like that?
Too bad.