It had started as a quiet experiment — small trades, small profits.
But a week later, Kyler Villamor had done what no professional trader could:
one hundred percent accuracy.
Not a single loss.
Not one wrong prediction.
Every trade he placed was right — perfect timing, perfect movement, perfect exit.
The skill Market Eyes didn't just show the numbers; it showed emotion — when the market was confident, when it hesitated, when it panicked. Kyler simply followed the rhythm no one else could see.
He didn't trade huge amounts. He kept each move small, careful, invisible — until, together, they quietly grew into something massive.
By Friday evening, his total earnings stood at ₱1,024,380.14.
Kyler stared at the screen, expression unreadable.
He wasn't shocked. He wasn't excited. He was… satisfied.
It was the kind of peace that came from control.
---
The company running the trading platform, however, did not share his calm.
Inside a Manila office filled with bright monitors and caffeine-driven analysts, a red flag popped up on their system:
> ALERT: User #BR7241 — Unusual win streak (147 consecutive trades). Probability anomaly > 99.999%.
The risk control team started digging.
They traced the logs, IP addresses, device data — but every record came up clean, normal, and yet wrong.
The man didn't exist properly.
Every file looped into generic information — like it had been copied from hundreds of other users and smoothed out.
His address data matched an entire apartment block's entry.
His device serial number was valid, but somehow listed under "unknown."
Even his uploaded ID image — clear, detailed, undeniably real — failed their verification bot three times, showing an error code they had never seen before: [Identity Sync: Null Reference].
"Is this guy spoofing us?" one analyst muttered, squinting at the screen.
Another shook her head. "No. It's cleaner than spoofing. It's like the system just… can't hold his details."
"Then how the hell are we supposed to report him?"
No one had an answer.
Within an hour, they archived the case under 'System Irregularity: Pending Review' and moved on.
The company's data network couldn't touch him. Not because Kyler hacked anything — but because Phantom Trace simply didn't allow the world to see him clearly.
---
At home, Kyler brewed coffee like nothing happened.
Ashley was playing with the kids on the couch, Hazel trying to braid her mom's hair while Nicko stacked toy cars into impossible towers.
Kyler smiled faintly, stirring the cup. His laptop screen still displayed his trading dashboard, balance glowing quietly like a secret sun.
He didn't feel guilt — just responsibility.
This wasn't luck or theft. It was mastery.
He took a sip of coffee and closed the trading window.
The moment he did, the interface shimmered faintly — as if even the app itself couldn't fully remember who had used it.
He checked his phone, scanned through bank transfers. Everything looked clean, legal, small enough to avoid notice. The Phantom Trace effect was subtle — every transaction seemed to pass through shadows, perfectly normal yet impossible to pin down.
Still, he knew something had happened. Somewhere, someone had tried to look for him.
He'd felt it — a cold nudge at the back of his mind earlier that day, like the echo of a malicious glance brushing against a closed door. The skill warned him without words.
He didn't panic.
He simply adjusted.
From now on, smaller trades. More accounts. Slower rhythm.
He could be rich forever — as long as he stayed invisible.
---
That night, after Ashley and the kids were asleep, Kyler sat at the kitchen table with the faint hum of the fridge filling the silence.
The clock read 2:32 A.M.
He had fifteen minutes before the next skill slot opened.
He didn't need another power yet. But he thought about what came next — what kind of life this kind of anonymity could build.
Trading wasn't the end. It was just one use of the System.
He could create anything.
But he didn't want fame, or power, or followers.
He wanted stability — a quiet, untraceable life where his family would never need to fear the world outside.
He typed a single note into his private log:
> Goal: Stay hidden. Build quietly. Never be known.
He saved it, closed the laptop, and looked toward the dark bedroom where his family slept.
The System remained silent — no glow, no response — only that cold, loyal stillness that matched his heartbeat.
Kyler smiled faintly.
"The quieter I stay," he whispered, "the freer I become."