February 21st, the first Friday night of the new semester at Southland Tech in River City.
In Dorm 305, third-year student **Ethan Cole** lay on his bed, a trace of worry on his face as he stared at his phone, lost in thought.
"Holy crap! This year there are over 12 million graduates, and more than 13 million people prepping for college entrance exams. In the next ten years, an estimated 120 million university students will graduate!"
A sudden wail from the opposite bed snapped Ethan out of it.
He glanced over and saw "Matching…" on **Sam Hayes**' screen. Clearly, Sam was doom-scrolling short videos between game restarts.
One comment sparked a chain reaction.
Sam's outburst instantly got the other two roommates wailing too.
"So after graduation, I'll be fighting for jobs with all those people until I'm 35!"
"**Alex Reed**! Just play your game—why are you doom-scrolling depressing stuff like that!"
"My Lord Qingtang, I've been wronged! Who even pushed this video onto my feed?"
"You admit it's your phone!"
Listening to the three drama kings launch into their usual banter, Ethan's inner tension eased a little.
On the bunk beside him, **Jordan Blake**—who idolized the tough detective from that old crime show—started daydreaming out loud again:
"I really hope that right after graduation, some sharp female CEO spots my hidden talent and hires me straight into her company. Then I'd just sit back all day watching her run meetings. Pure bliss!"
"And then she'd assign you to the most dangerous division in the firm, right?"
"Give it a rest. Go check yourself in the bathroom mirror. To be the 'Tiger of the Group,' you'd at least need Ethan's build and looks, pretty boy."
Ethan's family ran a small factory back home, so his roommates had taken to calling him "Boss Cole" half-jokingly.
As for the looks Alex mentioned, Ethan wasn't bad at all.
Calling him movie-star handsome like some A-lister would be stretching it, but among guys, he was definitely above average—1.8 meters tall, always put-together when he went out, the kind of guy who used to get secret admirers slipping notes into his locker in high school.
Seeing the spotlight swing his way, Ethan did a quick sit-up and played along:
"You guys are too kind. Honestly, when I was a kid, my dad took me to this fortune teller who said I was destined to live off a woman someday."
"What a coincidence! My dad took me to one too, and the guy said the same thing—it'd be a shame if I didn't live off a woman later in life."
"Wait, you two have the same dad?"
Alex, the instigator of the whole skit, whipped his head around: "Isn't that me?"
Ethan and Jordan said in perfect unison: "Get lost!"
Right then, the game finally matched. Alex gave a quick signal, then dove back in—already on his knees for the next round.
"No way, I still need to study more moves from the master to prep for my future!"
With that, Jordan grabbed his phone again and opened the short-video app.
[First solve the quantity problem, then the quality problem.]
[You can give your heart and soul, but not your money.]
[Money is for women to see, not for women to spend.]
Old Jordan used to roll his eyes at this stuff, but now he was pausing and studying every frame.
"Tomorrow's the first weekend since classes started—how about we hit House Bar tomorrow night?" Alex suddenly suggested after picking his hero.
"I've got stuff going on these next couple days, so I'll pass."
Before the others could protest, Ethan had already answered. "You guys go ahead. I've got things to handle."
"Alright then."
Ethan had never been a fan of loud, chaotic bars. In two and a half years of college, he'd only gone with the three of them a handful of times. Alex just figured that was the reason he was bowing out.
But only Ethan knew the real reason went deeper—because of what had happened at home at the end of last year.
The family factory, which had run for twenty years, finally couldn't hold on and shut down.
In better times, it brought in hundreds of thousands a year, making them comfortably well-off in their small town.
Then "those three tough years" hit, and orders dried up day by day. His dad, being the conscientious type, didn't just stop making money—he poured his own savings in to keep everyone paid.
They scraped through somehow, thinking things would finally turn around, but fate had other plans.
Last November, a key client downstream went under, and that was the final blow.
Even after selling off all the old equipment, the proceeds barely covered worker severance and back pay.
His family hadn't told Ethan the full details, but he knew they were deep in debt—at least several hundred thousand—and his dad had switched to driving rideshare full-time.
The one bright spot was that the family hadn't fallen apart over it. His mom quietly supported his dad every step, never adding pressure.
Before Ethan went home for winter break, she'd specifically asked him not to bring it up in front of his dad.
But when he walked through the door and saw his father—after just a few months apart—with new streaks of white at the temples, his heart sank.
Turns out, parents really don't wait for you to be ready before they start aging.
In a situation like this, the idea of blowing family money on KTV karaoke or overpriced bar drinks made Ethan want to slap himself.
When the other two heard he wasn't going, they immediately lost steam, and the bar plan fizzled out.
Ethan, meanwhile, started mentally tallying what cash he had left.
With the factory gone, maybe worried the family would borrow from relatives, this New Year had been unusually quiet.
But his aunt and uncle had slipped him thicker red envelopes than usual, so for the first time, Ethan came away with over eight thousand yuan in cash gifts.
Add in the few thousand he still had in pocket money, and his total came to nearly twelve thousand—a decent cushion.
"This semester's living expenses and next year's senior tuition are covered. If I pick up weekend part-time gigs and a solid summer job, I should scrape together enough for senior-year living costs and internship money."
Given the family's situation, Ethan couldn't bring himself to ask for more help. The best he could do was ease their burden however he could—and after graduation and landing a job, he'd help shoulder the debt alongside his older brother and second sister.
But the second he remembered the "millions of graduates" number Alex had thrown out, the pressure doubled.
"Sigh—"
Ethan let out a deep breath in his mind, slipping into an unrealistic daydream:
"If only I had some kind of system right now… I really want a system!"
[Ding!]
An electronic chime suddenly cut through his fantasy.
[Detection successful. System loading…]
[Daily Intelligence System is ready to bind. Host, do you wish to bind?]
[Yes/No?]
For a second, Ethan thought one of the guys was playing an audiobook.
But when a glowing interface actually appeared in front of his eyes, he realized—he'd genuinely become the chosen one!
"The system showed up just like that? Is this one of those 'sincerity is enough' deals?"
Ethan couldn't believe he'd get a system without needing some dramatic "fated encounter" first!
[Countdown: ten seconds. Host, please confirm binding. If time runs out, binding will be canceled.]
[Ten.]