---
The rhythm of life didn't change for the Villamor family.
Every morning, Ashley brewed coffee while humming an old pop song. Hazel and Nicko fought over the last pancake. Kyler smiled, quietly slipping his laptop open before his shift began.
It was just another weekday — except the lines on his trading screen moved differently now. They didn't just rise and fall; they pulsed, precise and predictable, like veins of light running through a living organism.
The skill, Market Eyes, was working perfectly.
Kyler had tested it carefully over the past three days — no big risks, no greed, only quiet, consistent trades.
₱5,000 became ₱10,000.
₱10,000 became ₱21,000.
And last night, while everyone slept, he had made another ₱38,000.
It was terrifyingly simple.
He didn't need luck. The numbers spoke to him in patterns of color and emotion.
Fear made the charts pulse red. Greed turned them green.
All Kyler had to do was act before anyone else saw it coming.
---
By Saturday, the balance read ₱100,275.33.
He stared at the numbers for a long time, the glow reflecting off his calm eyes.
He didn't smile.
Instead, a thought pressed quietly in the back of his mind — This is too fast.
It wasn't guilt.
It was logic.
The market didn't move like this for ordinary people. If someone noticed a consistent 100% success rate, questions would start.
Online brokers, tax records, even whispers in forums — all could trace unusual patterns.
Kyler exhaled softly and closed the laptop.
.
---
That afternoon, Ashley dragged the kids to the nearby park. Kyler tagged along, his phone tucked in his pocket, tracking charts without anyone noticing. Hazel ran around the swings, Nicko clung to his leg, and Ashley laughed when a stray dog chased a plastic bag down the sidewalk.
It was peaceful — a reminder of why he wanted to stay invisible.
No one needed to know about the System. Not his coworkers. Not his wife. Not even the world.
While Ashley watched the kids, Kyler scrolled subtly through his phone. The market was calm — no spikes, no sudden shifts.
He turned off the screen and leaned back on the bench.
He had all the time in the world.
And money… was just the beginning.
---
That night, he reviewed everything — profit records, wallet balances, email confirmations — erasing logs, clearing traces, keeping transactions under ₱50,000 to avoid suspicion.
Every click was deliberate, methodical.
Perfect Memory remembered all his steps — a personal audit no one could uncover.
He thought about creating a fourth skill early — something like Digital Concealment, a cloak for all his online activity.
But he resisted.
Twenty-four hours. That was his law.
One skill per day. No exceptions.
Still, the idea lingered — a skill that could make him invisible, not just online, but in every record, every trace.
The more he earned, the more he realized how fragile anonymity was. The System didn't protect him; it only obeyed.
The only real protection was his own discipline.
---
Later, as Ashley folded clothes beside him, she glanced over with a smile. "You've been quiet these days. No stress from work?"
Kyler looked up from his phone, voice calm. "Just tired. Calls are heavy this week."
She chuckled. "Don't overdo it, okay? You look better lately though. Healthier."
He smiled faintly. "Just sleeping better, I guess."
She leaned on his shoulder, content. "That's good. You deserve it."
Kyler nodded. His hand brushed her hair absentmindedly.
The truth was, he hadn't felt tired in days — Everrest made sure of that.
And he didn't need sleep to feel alive anymore.
But he didn't tell her.
She didn't need to know about the quiet system buried inside his mind — the one rewriting his life in silence.
---
When Ashley and the kids finally fell asleep, Kyler sat alone in the dark again.
The faint hum of the city outside filled the room.
He opened his laptop one last time, checking the final figures — neat, organized, anonymous.
He whispered to himself, not to the System, but as a promise:
> "Next skill… I'll make sure no one will ever find me through this."
The monitor dimmed as he logged out of everything, wiping all digital footprints with the precision of a machine.
To the world, he was still a tired call center agent, working the graveyard shift, living paycheck to paycheck.
But under the surface — unseen, undetected — Kyler Villamor was already becoming something else.
Not famous.
Not feared.
Just quietly untouchable.