The morning sun in Los Angeles filtered through the narrow basement window facing the ventilation shaft, casting a pale square of light on the mold-spotted floor. Mason Cooper sat on the edge of that patch of light, his back against the cold wall, one leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee, elbow resting on it.
Before him lay the dog-eared ledger, and beside it, his phone with its faintly scratched screen, displaying his bank app.
Account Balance: $480.50.
That number felt like an icy thumbtack, pinning him firmly back to the harsh reality after the brief, dizzying high of last night's success.
$480.50.
Of that, $144.50 was his original lifeline.
$336 was the profit from yesterday's experiment—a quick buy-and-flip between the thrift store and an online marketplace, enabled by the \[Can Never Buy Authentic\] ability.
A successful test. It proved the System wasn't a hallucination. It proved the seemingly cursed ability held the potential to turn "fake" into real purchasing power.
But it was far from enough.
The next page of the ledger held another number, scrawled in frantic red ink: $1,400.00.
The sword of Damocles hanging over his head. The total demanded by the two women—the victims of the torn stockings in the mall. Deadline: Seven days. Now, six remained.
480.50 vs. 1,400.00.
This wasn't even a fair fight; it was a rout waiting to happen. Even if he could repeat yesterday's operation perfectly every day, netting 336, in six days that was only 2,016. Subtract the 1,400, and he'd be left with a few hundred bucks just to catch his breath. That didn't include his basic living costs for those six days, nor did it touch the 1,000 loan shark debt, coiled like a venomous snake in the ledger's shadows.
Worse, this low-margin, second-hand flipping was fraught with uncertainty. The speed of turnover, buyer fickleness, platform scrutiny… any hiccup could derail his plan. He couldn't stake everything on such an inefficient, unstable model.
He needed a more efficient, more direct, more lucrative exploit.
His eyes returned to the ability description:
\[Can Never Buy Authentic\]
Ability Description: You cannot purchase any genuine items. No matter where you buy from, you will only receive counterfeits.
Yesterday, he'd exploited the perception gap—"what's real to others is fake to me"—to profit in the second-hand market. But that was surface-level. The true core of this ability lay in its absolute rules: "No matter where you buy from" and "will only receive counterfeits."
"No matter where you buy from…" Mason muttered, his fingers absently tapping the floor. "That means even if I walk into an authorized luxury boutique, even if I pay the full retail price for a genuine item… what I receive is fated to be a fake."
A bold, almost insane idea flashed through his mind like lightning in the dark.
Counterfeits…
What about consumer protection laws? Especially those offered by businesses keen to protect brand reputation and combat fakes—the ones who actively promised "tenfold compensation for fakes"?
His heart gave a violent thump.
What if… he deliberately went to one of these stores with a "tenfold compensation" policy and bought a high-value item? According to the ability's absolute rule, he would 100% receive a fake. Then, based on consumer protection laws and the store's own promise, he could file a claim for ten times the purchase price!
This wasn't exploiting minor information gaps for thin profits anymore. This was leveraging the power of law and commercial rules for a crushing blow!
Excitement shot up his spine like an electric current, but cold rationality doused it almost immediately.
Risk. Immense risk.
First, would the businesses even admit it? Faced with a massive tenfold compensation claim, would they deny everything, even accuse him of swapping the goods? What resources did he, a bottom-rung convenience store clerk, have to fight a well-funded brand boutique?
Second, evidence. How to prove the item was fake at the point of purchase? How to ensure an unbreakable chain of evidence?
Third, time. Legal processes were slow. He had only six days. He needed a way to force a quick settlement.
Mason took a deep breath, forcing calm. He needed a perfect plan, one that flawlessly integrated the ability's rules, legal statutes, merchant psychology, and practical execution. This was no longer small-time hustling; this was a real battle.
He stood up and paced the cramped room. His steps were soft, but his mind raced like a precision instrument—inputting variables, running simulations, assessing risks.
Core Plan: Use the absoluteness of \[Can Never Buy Authentic\] to target a merchant with a "tenfold compensation for fakes" promise, launching a precise "bait-and-claim" operation.
Goal: Obtain tenfold compensation quickly to solve the $1,400 crisis.
Key: Evidence. Timing. Method of applying pressure.
Several hours later, a preliminary scheme took shape in his mind. The crux lay in choosing the right "prey" and designing an irrefutable evidence-gathering process.
He opened his phone and began searching for Los Angeles-area luxury goods or high-end electronics stores with "tenfold compensation" policies. The target needed to meet several criteria: high unit price (for a worthwhile payout), good reputation (more likely to cave under reputational pressure), relatively standardized purchase process (easier for evidence).
Finally, his gaze settled on a high-end watch boutique called "Time Gallery." It had a solid local reputation, selling mid-to-high-end Swiss brands. Their website and in-store signage prominently declared: "We guarantee all items are official genuine products. If any item is verified by an authoritative agency as counterfeit, we pledge tenfold compensation." An entry-level mechanical watch there typically ranged from 1,500 to 3,000. A successful claim would mean 15,000 to 30,000!
The number stole his breath. That would not only wipe out the compensation debt but also clear the loan shark debt and leave him with a substantial nest egg.
But "Time Gallery" wouldn't be a pushover. Such stores had sophisticated surveillance, well-trained staff, and were undoubtedly wary of potential scams.
"Authoritative agency verification…" Mason mused. This was the merchant's barrier—verification took time, money, and connections the average consumer didn't have. He had to find a way around it or make the merchants drop the requirement themselves.
He thought of consumer protection organizations' fast-track mediation, the pressure of social media backlash… but those were fallbacks. He needed a trap, laid right at the point of purchase, that the merchant couldn't easily deny.
Suddenly, inspiration struck.
Video recording. Start recording before entering the store—an uninterrupted, unedited audiovisual log of the entire process: clearly filming the staff member's face and name tag, the product details, the payment, the packaging, all the way until he left the store. A complete, unbroken chain of evidence. That would make a "customer-swapped-it" accusation very hard to sustain.
Second, he needed to pick a model with a unique serial number that was easy to verify through official channels. That way, a post-purchase verification failure would be ironclad proof.
Finally, he needed to research relevant sections of the California Uniform Commercial Code on warranties of merchantability and fraudulent sales, as well as Federal Trade Commission regulations. He didn't need to be a legal expert, but he needed to know his rights and their legal obligations to hold the upper hand in negotiations.
For the next two days, Mason prepared like he was studying for the most important exam of his life.
He buried himself in the public library, researching consumer rights laws and cases, taking meticulous notes on his phone. He mentally rehearsed every possible scenario inside "Time Gallery," scripting potential staff questions and his own calm, unsuspicious replies. He even spent his last few dozen dollars at a cheap clothing store for a slightly more presentable casual outfit—he couldn't walk in wearing his convenience store uniform to buy a multi-thousand dollar watch.
His carefully chosen target was a Hamilton Khaki Field Mechanical watch with an MSRP of $2,200. Classic design, clear unique serial number, and Hamilton's website offered an online serial number verification service—perfectly quick and convenient.
Most importantly, he calculated his ability uses. \[Can Never Buy Authentic\] had two uses remaining. He planned to use the first for this watch operation. If successful, massive payout. If it failed, he'd have one final attempt for another plan, or revert to the slower, riskier flipping model with even less time.
This was a high-stakes gamble. His wager: his remaining $480.50 (needed as the "bait" money for the watch) and the trajectory of his future.
On the afternoon of the third day, under a bright sun, Mason stood across the street from the shopping plaza housing "Time Gallery," his palms slightly damp. He wore his new, cheap but clean clothes. In his pocket, his phone was in airplane mode (to prevent calls interrupting the recording), but the video app was already running, camera aimed at his intended path.
He took a deep breath, silently reciting the Hemingway quote that had become his mantra: "The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places."
Then he crossed the street and pushed open the heavy glass door of "Time Gallery."
The air inside was cool, the lighting soft, the air faintly scented with leather and fragrance. A male clerk in a well-tailored suit approached with a professional smile.
"Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you?"
Mason worked to keep his voice steady and natural. "Hello, I'd like to look at the Hamilton Khaki Field Mechanical, that one there." He pointed to his pre-selected target in the display case.
"Excellent choice. A very popular model," the clerk said smoothly, donning white gloves and placing the watch on a black velvet pad. "This is from the latest batch, keeps excellent time."
Mason's heart hammered against his ribs, but he kept his face neutral. Using the pretext of examining the watch, he subtly angled his phone camera to capture the clerk, his name tag, and the timepiece. He asked a few routine questions about the movement and water resistance, which the clerk answered fluently.
The critical moment arrived.
"May I see the serial number?" Mason asked casually.
"Of course." The clerk turned the watch, pointing out the unique number engraved between the lugs. Mason committed it to memory while ensuring the camera caught it.
"Perfect. I'll take this one," Mason said, aiming for decisive.
The clerk's smile widened. "Very good, sir. Right this way for payment."
His phone faithfully recorded the entire payment, receipt printing, and boxing process. As the clerk handed him the elegantly wrapped box, he added with a smile, "Thank you for your business. We guarantee 'tenfold compensation for fakes'—your assurance of quality."
The words were captured clearly. Mason inwardly scoffed but maintained a pleasant expression. "Thank you. I trust your reputation."
Holding the box, stepping back out into the sunlight, Mason felt like he'd just fought a battle. His back was damp with cold sweat.
He didn't go far. He quickly ducked into a quiet corner cafe's restroom and locked the door. He needed to verify immediately—did the ability rule work as predicted?
With slightly trembling hands, he opened the box and took out the exquisitely crafted Hamilton watch. Then he pulled out his phone, turned off airplane mode, connected to the cafe's Wi-Fi, and navigated to Hamilton's official authenticity verification page.
He entered the model and the serial number he'd memorized.
Clicked "Verify."
The loading circle spun for a few seconds, then the result appeared.
A stark line of red text:
WARNING: This serial number is invalid or not found in our genuine product database. The item you purchased may be counterfeit. Please contact the official retailer or point of purchase immediately.
Success!
The ability's rule was absolute!
A massive wave of elation and disbelief washed over him. Even though this was the plan, seeing the ironclad proof was still dizzying.
The $2,200 "genuine" item was, for him, indeed a complete fake!
Now, he held the proof: the complete, unedited purchase video (including the clerk's "tenfold compensation" promise) and the screenshot of the failed verification.
Next step: turning this "smoking gun" into tangible compensation.
He didn't choose to confront "Time Gallery" directly. That was too risky—they could control the narrative, potentially leading to conflict, evidence damage, or personal danger.
He chose a more modern, efficient route. He sent a carefully worded, evidence-packed demand letter via email simultaneously to "Time Gallery's" official customer service and the store manager.
Subject: Formal Notice Regarding Purchase of Counterfeit Watch and Demand for Fulfillment of 'Tenfold Compensation' Guarantee.
The letter clearly stated the purchase time, location, staff details, watch serial number, and attached the verification failure screenshot. He made no mention of any supernatural ability, positioning himself purely as a wronged consumer. He cited relevant sections of the California Consumer Legal Remedies Act and the Federal Trade Commission Act prohibiting fraudulent and unfair business practices, stating their actions constituted consumer fraud.
He explicitly demanded: per the store's publicly advertised "tenfold compensation for fakes" policy, payment of ten times the purchase price: 2,200 x 10 = 22,000. He gave a deadline: 24 hours to respond to the email confirming the settlement. Failing that, he would immediately:
1. File complaints with the Los Angeles County Department of Consumer Affairs and the California Attorney General's Office.
2. Report the matter to the Federal Trade Commission.
3. Submit the complete video and evidence to local TV consumer advocacy segments and for social media exposure.
The letter was reasonable, well-documented, measured, yet carried the weight of an ultimatum. Mason knew stores like "Time Gallery" valued reputation above all. A media scandal about selling fake watches, even if they later proved it an "isolated incident" or "customer swap," would damage their brand far beyond $22,000. A quick, quiet settlement was their most likely choice.
It was evening by the time he sent the email. Back in the basement, Mason felt a tension and anticipation unlike anything before. This was a psychological game; he'd pushed all his chips in, waiting for the house to reveal its hand.
Minutes ticked by. He couldn't focus on anything, just kept refreshing his inbox.
About four hours after sending the email, his phone rang. An unfamiliar local number.
Mason took a deep breath and answered.
"May I speak with Mr. Mason Cooper?" A slightly tense, middle-aged male voice.
"This is he."
"Hello, this is David Chen, store manager at Time Gallery. We received your email…" The voice was cautious, almost pleading. "Regarding the Hamilton watch you purchased, we'd like to discuss this. There may have been some… misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?" Mason's voice was calm, surprising even himself. "Mr. Chen, the official verification result is clear. I have the complete purchase recording. Would you like me to play the part where your employee promises 'tenfold compensation'?"
Silence on the other end for several seconds, punctuated by a heavy breath. Clearly, the mention of "complete recording" had hit its mark.
"Mr. Cooper, perhaps… we can resolve this privately? Tenfold compensation… that is a significant amount, and publicity wouldn't benefit either party," the manager tried to negotiate.
Mason didn't budge. "Mr. Chen, it was your promise, and the law supports consumer rights. $22,000 is my bottom line, and the price you should pay. My patience is limited. If I don't have a confirmed settlement agreement by noon tomorrow, I will proceed exactly as outlined in my email. I'm certain KNBC's consumer hotline would find this story very interesting."
Another short silence. Mason could almost picture the man wiping his brow.
"...Very well, Mr. Cooper," the manager finally conceded, voice weary. "We accept your demand. $22,000 in compensation. Please provide your bank account details. We will process the transfer before the end of the night. Simultaneously, we will require you to sign a confidentiality agreement, promising not to pursue or publicize this matter further."
"Agreed," Mason said, knowing this was standard. "But I need to see the funds cleared first."
Shortly before 11 PM, Mason's phone buzzed with a bank notification.
[Credit Alert] Account ending 1670 credited 22,000.00 on Jan 26, 2026. Current Balance: 22,480.50.
He stared at the string of digits on the screen for a long time, unmoving.
$22,480.50.
Just days ago, he'd been in despair over $144.50. Now, that number had gained two extra zeros.
He'd done it. Not only had he solved the 1,400 crisis, paying off the 1,000 loan shark debt would be trivial. He even had what felt like a fortune in seed money.
After the initial euphoria faded, a deep weariness and clarity settled in.
He realized this wasn't just a victory of money. It was the first time he had proactively, strategically used the System's rules to leverage the real world's mechanisms and won. He had validated his approach—finding a path in the cracks of the rules using wit.
But he also saw the dangers and costs. This operation skirted legal edges, relying on precise strikes against merchant vulnerabilities. One success was fortuitous; consistent success was impossible. He needed to find more sustainable, lower-risk exploits.
And the ability's limitation remained. \[Can Never Buy Authentic\] had only one use left. He had to be extremely careful.
He picked up his pen and, on a fresh page of the ledger, wrote solemnly:
"Rules are not shackles; they are weapons. Understand them to wield them."
"Luck is just opportunity in disguise. And opportunity favors the prepared."
He put the pen down and looked out the window. The LA night sky was stained a dark red by city neon, stars invisible.
But a faint light seemed to glimmer in Mason Cooper's eyes.
He knew the battle for the compensation money was ending, but the real journey was just beginning.
"That's just the warm-up," he whispered to the night sky, a long-absent, victorious curve finally touching his lips.