(6th Evaluation Period – Month 3)
Ashburn's POV
The third month of the sixth evaluation began with more purpose than pressure. For Ashburn, the days had started to blend into a pattern of motion—work early, manage accounts by noon, check construction sites by evening, and fall asleep with half-finished ideas about the next step.
The Super Mart stood tall now, its aisles ready, signage polished, soft light spilling from new fixtures. He walked through the corridors in silence, running a hand across the cool metal shelves. Every detail had been measured twice—spacing, pricing labels, product arrangement, even where the carts would park.
The third branch, located near Sami's school, had its final coats of paint drying. It wasn't just another outlet; it was a personal marker of growth. The décor matched the warm tones of his earlier branches, but he'd added a children's section this time—snacks, stationery, and bright corner lamps shaped like fruits. He smiled quietly thinking of Sami's surprise when he'd see it.
Ashburn's notebook was cluttered with reminders, margins filled with scrawled calculations about logistics, cost ratios, and promotional budgets. But amid all those numbers, one note stood out, written in thicker ink:
"Factory setup: Begin after 2nd week — machinery confirmed."
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Factory Site – Ashburn's POV
The land stretched wide and flat outside the city's edge, dust swirling softly in the wind. The factory area was busy—small trucks unloading machinery, men in overalls setting down heavy boxes marked Sealer, Roaster, Automatic Packer.
Ashburn stood with his sleeves rolled up, clipboard in hand, eyes sharp with focus.
He imagined the space a month from now: stainless-steel units lined neatly, walls painted white, safety boards posted, and at the far end—his brand's first logo glowing on a modest board.
"Packaged dry goods… roasted pulses, seasonal snacks, our own line." He murmured under his breath.
For once, it wasn't just reselling. It was creation.
The start of something that carried his name from raw product to shelf.
A soft notification blinked in his vision.
> [System Notice]
Progress acknowledged. Side business setup registered.
Reminder: Side venture and primary enterprise will be evaluated jointly in the final phase.
You may retain all interim profits and manage freely.
Sustain profitability to maintain current share ratio.
Ashburn exhaled. No surprise, no praise—just a reminder. Still, a faint smile tugged at his lips. The system's words, neutral as always, felt almost like silent approval.
---
Aisha's POV
The midday rush at the main store was endless—customers, invoices, phone calls, and two new staff trainees who didn't know where half the products were.
Aisha scribbled numbers in a ledger, her pen darting between lines, half talking to herself.
"Every week it's more customers, more orders… and he still says, 'We're just getting started.'"
She laughed softly, a mix of complaint and pride.
Despite the long hours, there was something thrilling about watching Ashburn's dream expand. The shelves were fuller, the staff more confident, and the customers—especially the regular ones—had begun greeting her by name.
Sometimes, when she watched him across the store—hands folded, eyes moving through every section like a quiet commander—her heart caught in her chest. He'd changed. Not into someone else, but into someone more.
Her thoughts softened.
He doesn't even realize how much he's changed everyone around him.
She sighed, tying her hair back and picking up another box of invoices. "Fine then," she whispered under her breath, "if he's working this hard, I'll keep up."
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Kainat's POV
At a quiet desk in her small office, Kainat's notebook was open to a sketch—a layout plan for her third charity kitchen, this one intended to open near the new branch area.
She tapped her pen thoughtfully. Each new business expansion meant more neighborhoods reached, more families who could use free meals, more children who could find comfort in a bowl of warm food.
He builds to earn; I build to give.
Maybe that's why it feels balanced.
She smiled to herself, imagining the day she'd tell him. He'd probably nod simply, the same way he always did when proud but pretending not to be.
For her, this wasn't just admiration—it was gratitude mixed with something softer, unnamed. Watching him work so endlessly had drawn her closer, not because of his strength, but because of his quiet constancy.
---
Evening Break – Shared POV
The night wind was gentle on the rooftop. Ashburn sat with Aisha and Kainat, tea cups between them, faint laughter blending with the hum of traffic below.
Aisha stretched her arms, pretending to groan. "If the next branch opens, I'm demanding a salary and a vacation."
Kainat chuckled. "You say that every time."
Ashburn smiled faintly. "When the system stops giving me new goals, I'll think about it."Ashburn thought so internally.
"Then never," Aisha shot back, rolling her eyes playfully.
They laughed.
For a few minutes, the world felt simple again. No deadlines, no plans—just the quiet comfort of people who understood each other.
Ashburn leaned back, watching the dim city lights flicker. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel the distance between work and life. Everything was beginning to move together—rhythmic, peaceful, alive.
---
Opening Day – Super Mart & Third Branch
A modest crowd gathered—mostly employees, a few families, and close friends. No flashy ceremony, no banners beyond the simple ribbon tied across the entrance.
Ashburn cut it quietly, the sound of scissors soft but symbolic.
Aisha stood to his right, smiling despite her tired eyes. Kainat stood to his left, hands clasped, her expression calm but glowing.
The moment the doors opened, the soft chime of the bell above echoed faintly—like the first note of a new beginning.
Inside, shelves gleamed, the floor reflected the lights, and the cash counters stood waiting.
Ashburn took a slow step forward, looking around one last time.
This was no longer a dream scattered in fragments of effort—it was real, standing, breathing, ready.
He whispered to himself:
"The shelves are ready… next time, they'll hold my own brand."
And for the first time in months, the quiet inside him felt like peace, not pause.