The rain in New York City was relentless—cold, chaotic, unforgiving. Neon lights blurred in puddles, distorted into messy splashes, like broken dreams scattered across wet asphalt. Alex Chen huddled in his thin, soaked delivery jacket, each raindrop stabbing through the fabric, chilling him to the bone.
His electric bike lay on its side, a flat tire mocking him. He'd swerved to avoid a car door, only to hit the curb. And the delivery? Spilled everywhere. Boxes meant to look pristine were now soggy trash in the gutter.
"Damn it…" His voice cracked. Not only would he pay for the meal, but the platform would deduct money from his account, and complaints might cost him his job—his only lifeline.
"Hey! Look who it is! Slowpoke Alex!" A loud, mocking voice cut through the rain. Mark Jenkins and his two minions staggered out of a nearby bar, umbrellas in hand, faces flushed with alcohol and malice. High school bullies never really change—they just get older and richer.
"Can't even deliver one lousy order?" Mark stepped closer, his polished shoes splashing dirty water onto Alex's pants. "Pathetic. What were your parents thinking bringing you to this city? Total embarrassment."
Alex clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. Rain ran down his hair, blurring his vision. Passersby glanced at him—some pitying, some indifferent, most just entertained. He wanted to speak, to fight back—but years of self-doubt and suppression felt like a boulder crushing his chest. He stayed silent, lowering his head, trying to fix the mess.
"Forget him, Mark. Loser smells like poverty," one lackey snickered.
Mark tossed a soggy pizza slice into the puddle near Alex. "Here, your dinner. Don't mention it." They laughed and disappeared into the night.
Humiliation. Cold, penetrating, complete. He forced his burning eyes shut. Crying wouldn't help—it never did.
Dragging his broken bike home, soaked to the bone, cold, hungry, pocket empty except for a few coins, Alex arrived at his cramped, run-down apartment. His phone glowed with notifications—deductions, complaints, deadlines—all pressing down like a physical weight.
The landlady's rent reminder slipped under the door was icy, unfeeling.
Inside, a single dim bulb buzzed. Outside, the city never slept. Lights, warmth, life—they were all somewhere else, far away. Alex felt like a cockroach in the shadow of a towering city, struggling, invisible, always one step from being crushed.
"Why…" he whispered, voice hoarse. "Why me? What did I do wrong?"
Exhaustion and despair closed in like a tide. He collapsed onto the cold mattress, still in wet clothes. Tomorrow wouldn't be better—maybe worse. Maybe his life was always going to be this: mud, struggle, nothing left but survival.
Then, a sharp, clear sound:
[Ding!]
A voice, cold, emotionless, echoed inside his head.
Alex snapped his eyes open. Empty room.
Hallucination? Starvation?
Then he saw it. Floating before him: a faintly glowing, semi-transparent holographic interface.
Sleek. Futuristic. Unmistakably real. Text scrolled in clean English:
[Detected host with strong will to survive and desire for change...]
[System binding in progress...]
[Origin system activated successfully!]
[Welcome, Alex Chen. Your new life begins now.]
At its center, a simple task box appeared:
[Initial Task: Complete 10 standard push-ups.]
[Reward: +0.1 stamina, $10.]
Alex froze, rain dripping from his hair onto the worn floor. He rubbed his eyes, pinched his arm. Still there. The blue interface hovered, steady, undeniable.
Madness? A last hallucination? Or something else?
The $10 flashed at him—so real. Enough for a hot meal, enough to survive tomorrow.
Driven by a strange impulse, he dropped to the floor. Arms trembling, he pushed.
One… two… painfully slow.
Five… gasping.
Eight… arms screaming.
Ten!
[Ding! Initial task completed.]
[Reward issued: +0.1 stamina, $10.]
Warmth surged, easing the cold, dulling exhaustion. And then—soft plop—the crisp ten-dollar bill appeared at his feet.
Alex stared at it. Then, up at the interface.
Silence, save for his pounding heartbeat.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Something had changed.
The rain kept falling—but after twenty years of numbness, something inside him began to thaw.