The next day, Mark woke up early. Not because of pain, though his foot still throbbed dully beneath the cast, but because his mind wouldn't let him rest. For the first time in his life, he had money. Real money. Not borrowed. Not scraped together. Not promised and delayed.
Money that stayed. He sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, sunlight cutting through the thin curtains of their tiny apartment. His mother was already awake, humming softly in the kitchen. The smell of cheap coffee and toasted bread filled the air.
Mark opened his banking app. The number still felt unreal. He didn't smile. He got to work.
First, his online loans. $3,000. Paid in full.
The confirmation email arrived instantly. No more interest. No more threatening reminders. No more sleepless nights calculating minimum payments like a loser trying to outrun time.
Next was his friend's debt. $2,000. Transferred.
Mark stared at the confirmation screen, thumb hovering as if the app might suddenly accuse him of lying. Jasper's name sat there quietly, unassuming, just like the man himself.
Jasper. The only one who had treated him like a human being instead of a disposable cog.
They'd met at the café, both exhausted, both underpaid, both surviving on caffeine and sarcasm.
When Mark had been rejected everywhere else, it was Jasper who pulled strings that barely existed and said, "Come on, man, they need hands. You're not useless." Jasper who covered his shift when Mark was late from his night job. Jasper who slipped him leftover pastries at closing time and pretended it was policy.
And yesterday, yesterday Jasper hadn't even been there when it all went to hell.
The reply came almost instantly.
Jasper: Dude, what the hell? Where did you get this money?
You know you need it, right? It's okay if you don't pay it all.
Mark's throat tightened. Even now. Even after everything. He typed slowly, carefully.
Mark: Thank you, dude. It's time I finally pay what I owe you.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then…
Jasper: Thank you, man…I'm sorry about what happened last night. I only found out this morning when I asked where you were.
Mark leaned back against the wall, eyes closing briefly. The café. The punch. The manager apologizing—to them. The way the word fired had landed like a verdict. His fingers moved again.
Mark: It's okay. I'm tired of working three jobs anyway.
That wasn't a joke. That was a quiet surrender to a chapter that had bled him dry.
Jasper didn't reply immediately this time. When he did, it was simple.
Jasper: If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.
He stared at the screen for a long moment after it sent. Then he locked his phone. For once, the weight in his chest wasn't debt. It was gratitude. Clean. For the first time in years, his name owed nothing to anyone. When he stood, his foot protested, but not violently. Pain bloomed, sharp but controlled, manageable. Enough to limp, not enough to break him.
An hour later, he decided to go shopping. The mall was loud, bright, and alive. It felt like stepping into another world, one Mark had only ever passed through, never belonged to. His mother walked beside him, cautious eyes flicking to his foot every few steps, while his sister bounced ahead, practically vibrating with excitement.
"You sure you're okay?" his mother asked for the third time.
"I'm fine, mom," Mark said, voice steady. "Promise."
His sister squinted at him. "You look… different."
He smirked faintly. "Good different or ugly different?"
"Suspicious different." That earned a laugh. A real one. Then they started with necessities—or what used to be necessities.
A phone store. Mark didn't even flinch when the clerk listed prices. He picked a new phone calmly, paid in full, no installment plans, no hesitation. The clerk's tone changed instantly—respect blooming where indifference once lived. Next, a laptop. His old one had been slow, cracked, held together by hope and duct tape. This one was sleek, powerful, absurdly fast and he needed it for his research. Soon he would start searching for names, for locations and Intel's about the elite and the wealthy.
Then he bought his mother a purse.
"Mark," his mother whispered, gripping her bag. "This is… this is a lot."
He met her eyes gently. "I know." Then he smiled. "But you deserve that mom."
Clothes came next. Not for him—at least not first. He guided them through racks, picking dresses his mother would never choose for herself. Softer colors. Better fabric. Shoes that didn't scream clearance aisle.
"For church?" his sister asked, holding up a dress.
"For everywhere," Mark replied.
She froze. Then her eyes shimmered. He pretended not to notice. He bought shoes for his sister—new ones, clean, stylish, the kind she'd always stared at through glass displays. Shirts. Pants. Small things that somehow meant everything.
When they finally stopped, bags in hand, Mark checked his balance.
$5,000 spent.
He didn't regret a single cent.
Back home, the apartment looked the same, but it felt different. Lighter. Hope clung to the walls like fresh paint. And that night, after his mother and sister fell asleep, Mark sat alone on the couch. His new laptop glowed softly on the table. His foot rested on a pillow, ache pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
He opened his banking app one last time.
Remaining Balance: $75,000.
He exhaled slowly. Then, "System," he said quietly. Blue light flickered into existence.
[Wealthy Immortality System Online]
"Show me the cheapest purchasable enhancements."
The response was instant.
[Available Enhancements – Entry Tier]
Genius Mind
Accelerated Learning
Enhanced Memory Retention
Cognitive Processing Boost
Cost: $20,000
Mark's eyebrows rose. "Damn it that is expensive," he muttered. "For a brain upgrade."
The screen shifted.
Basic Strength
Physical Power Increase (Minor)
Muscle Efficiency Optimization
Endurance Enhancement
Cost: $50,000
He stared at the numbers. Strength. Intelligence. The foundation of everything. No shortcuts. No flashy nonsense. Just raw potential. He didn't hesitate. "Purchase both."
[Confirm Transaction?]
Total Cost: $70,000
"Yes."
The blue screen pulsed.
[Transaction Complete]
Balance Remaining: $0
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then—Pain. Not the sharp kind. Not the kind that made you scream. This was… different. A pressure inside his skull, like gears turning for the first time.
His thoughts accelerated, patterns forming, connections snapping together with frightening clarity. Information flowed effortlessly—numbers, logic, strategy. His muscles tightened subtly, fibers adjusting, strength settling into his frame like a promise waiting to be tested.
Mark gasped, gripping the edge of the couch. Then it stopped. He opened his eyes. The world felt sharper. Clearer. Lighter. He checked his balance again.
Zero.
"Fuck! I'm back to zero," but he smirked, and laughed softly, shaking his head. "I'm broke again."