I had the ultimate knowledge. I had the system for infinite growth. A slow smile spread across my face. I struck it rich in this life, huh. The contrast was absurd, but the path forward was crystal clear.
Then the smile dissolved as a sharp, undeniable hunger clawed at my gut. Right. Cosmic strategist or not, this meat suit had basic demands. I swung my legs off the creaking mattress, my joints protesting loudly. The room, a classic New York shoebox, reeked of stale carpet, damp plaster, and the ghostly remains of someone else's cheap takeout. It was barely big enough for the sagging bed, a wobbly dresser, and a grimy window overlooking a graffiti-splashed brick wall.
A dusty wallet on the dresser held a driver's license for "Alexander Sterling"—my new name, apparently—and a measly seven dollars and change. Enough for a sad slice of pizza and a subway ride, maybe. My reflection in the cracked mirror showed an utterly average guy: medium height, unremarkable brown hair, features designed to be instantly forgotten. A perfect blank slate, but also a nobody.
"Alright, Alex," I muttered to the stranger in the glass, the name feeling utterly foreign. "Time to get to work."
Panic was a luxury I couldn't afford. This situation was objectively bad, but for the first time, I had an unfair advantage – the perfect consultant.
"Raphael," I thought, my mental voice quiet but firm. "Give me my current situation analysis: immediate threats and opportunities, prioritized."
My stomach gave another pathetic growl, just to drive the point home. "Opportunities?"
'Stark Industries? So this is Marvel huh? Well, this can go from hot waifus to dark very fast, but I can copy many powers. a literal treasure trove for me.
A slow, dawning grin stretched across Alex's face, replacing the earlier irritation. "Okay, Raphael, confirm. which Marvel? Avengers, mutants, cosmic cubes, the whole shebang?"
Alex let out a low whistle. "A treasure trove indeed. This just went from 'survive a shoebox apartment' to 'survive a planet-ending event,' didn't it?" He ran a hand through his hair. "On the upside, hot waifus. On the downside... Thanos. And Galactus. And Doom. And probably a dozen other 'and's that want to rearrange my molecules."
He paused, a flicker of genuine fear, quickly subsumed by the cold fire of strategy. "But also... powers. All those powers. Every single one of them. With Absolute Self-Improvement and Universal Comprehension, and Perfect Mana and Ki Affinity..." His smile returned, wider and far more predatory this time. "This isn't just survival, Raphael. This is an all-you-can-eat buffet."
He pushed himself off the bed, "Alright, Priority one: cash. Seven dollars isn't going to cut it in a world with super-villains and global threats. We need capital, and we need it fast."
"Raphael," I instructed, choosing my words carefully. "Formulate an Akashic Link query. Identify the single most profitable, lowest-risk financial opportunity actionable within 24 hours. Must be entirely digital, require only public internet access, minimal technical skill, and under ten dollars starting capital."
For a fleeting moment, I felt it—a thread of my consciousness gently dipping into an infinite ocean of pure data. Cold, utterly impersonal, like touching the raw universe itself. No visions, just a profound sense of connection to something vast and indifferent, before it receded.
Bitcoin, you say?" Alex's eyes gleamed, a predatory light entering them. He felt a thrill course through him, "Oh, you beautiful, volatile son of a bitch. I missed you last time around.But not this time. Oh no, not this time. You're mine, Bitcoin."
7,300%. On my seven dollars. That wasn't seed money; that was a damn rocket booster.
A wave of pure elation hit me, nearly knocking me off my feet. It was real. The power worked! But then, my pathetic body decided to remind me of its shortcomings. A rush of exhaustion, the adrenaline crash, left my knees wobbly.
I looked at my hands, pale and soft. All my grand plans were useless if I couldn't walk up a flight of stairs without collapsing. This had to change, starting now.
I dropped to the floor and attempted a push-up. The strain was immediate and embarrassing. My arms trembled violently under my own meager weight. My core was jelly. I barely managed one before collapsing, panting, black spots dancing in my vision. Pathetic. One push-up, and I was winded.
Then, as I lay there, a cheerful chime echoed in my mind.
[Through a specific action, the Skill 'Physical Training' has been created!]
[Physical Training (Passive) Lvl. 1]: Slightly increases the effectiveness and stat gains from all forms of physical exertion. Every effort counts.]
Lying on the dusty floorThe laugh of a man who'd been handed the keys to the cosmos but couldn't open a jar of pickles. The laugh of a man staring up at a seemingly impossible mountain, realizing he now had the perfect tool to climb it, one agonizing inch at a time.
I was weak. I was broke. I was a nobody in a city of millions, on a world of gods and monsters.
But I had a plan. I had a supercomputer in my soul. And now, every pathetic, grueling effort I made would be rewarded.
With a dramatic grunt, I pushed myself back into position. The grind had officially begun.