Chapter 2: Setting a Trap for Lip
The system panel was painfully simple —
no flashy stats, no fancy level bars, not even a single attribute point to spend.
Just one lonely entry:
[Skill: Freestyle Combat (Mastery)]
William stared at it for a while and sighed.
"That's it? No levels? No EXP? Not even a damn HP bar?"
For a second, he felt almost… emo.
But then he shrugged it off.
After all, his grand plan in this world wasn't to become some overpowered protagonist.
He just wanted to lie flat and enjoy life —
rich, healthy, and stress-free.
So, whether the system was "god-tier" or "trash-tier" really didn't matter.
Ignoring the so-called "trash system," William continued toward the address the Bitcoin seller had sent him.
---
He'd barely taken a few steps when that all-too-familiar chime echoed in his head again.
Ding!
[New Task Detected: Interrupt the romantic encounter between Fiona and her 'boyfriend' Jimmy Lishman.]
[Reward: Regeneration Factor (Level 3).]
William stopped dead in his tracks.
"Wait… regeneration factor?"
As in… Wolverine regeneration factor?
Like, heal-anything kind of power?
His brain short-circuited for a moment.
On one hand, he wanted to relax, stay low, and live a comfortable life.
On the other hand…
Immortality. Self-healing. Eternal youth.
That kind of temptation was on a whole different level.
---
William stood there, staring at the falling snow with a conflicted expression.
"Lie flat and enjoy life…"
"...or become an unkillable monster?"
A few seconds later, he exhaled deeply.
"Sorry, Fiona. Nothing personal."
He turned on his heel, a sly grin curling at the corner of his lips.
To be honest—
William wanted everything.
The money, the peace, the immortality—why settle for one?
So, without hesitation, he turned around and marched right back toward Ian.
"Ian," he said, dead serious, "can you give me your sister's phone number?"
Ian blinked.
"What—what are you trying to do?"
His face showed a mix of emotions:
three parts fear, five parts confusion, and two parts… irritation?
Irritation?
William almost burst out laughing.
"What, mad that your sister's the one getting hit on?"
He kept the thought to himself, though. No need to provoke the poor kid.
"I just want to have a deep conversation with your sister," William said, half-grinning. "Nothing else."
Ian didn't find that strange at all.
Plenty of men in the South Side wanted to "deeply communicate" with Fiona Gallagher.
Take Tony, for example—an actual cop who spent half his time trying to flirt with her.
So, yeah, it made sense.
"Do you really know Aunt Ginger?" Ian asked suddenly, suspicion flickering in his eyes.
William sighed. "Does it matter?"
He stared at the red-haired kid with a look that said you're overthinking this.
And truthfully, it didn't matter in the slightest.
Once Ian understood William's true intention, everything clicked in his head.
"Fiona doesn't have her own phone," Ian explained. "We all share one.
If you really want to hit on her, you could wait for her at work."
Now that his brain had caught up, Ian's nervousness faded.
After all, even in America, 2010 wasn't exactly a friendly time for guys like him.
He hesitated, then added quietly,
"Oh, and about Kash... could you, um, not tell anyone about that?
In return, I'll tell you where Fiona works."
William couldn't help but smile faintly. The kid looked so scared, it was almost pitiful.
"No wonder he ends up pretending to be Lip just to enlist later," William thought.
"Then spirals into mania… poor kid never stood a chance."
And then he remembered his main mission — changing the Gallaghers' lives.
The reward wasn't listed yet, but if blocking Fiona's fling earned him a healing factor,
this big quest had to be worth something insane.
"Relax," William said, patting Ian's shoulder reassuringly. "Your secret's safe with me.
And remember what you said—I'll hold you to it.
Name's William. William Blake."
Ian let out a small breath of relief.
"Got it. I've got work, so… see you, William."
"See you, Ian."
---
With that settled, William finally resumed his trip to meet the Bitcoin seller.
The deal went surprisingly smooth.
The seller—a scrawny fourteen-year-old kid—had 1,000 Bitcoins to sell.
Total price: 80 cents.
William paid without hesitation.
For him, that was pocket change.
But as he watched the kid grin and run off, he couldn't help but think,
"Fifteen years from now, when you realize you just sold me a hundred million dollars for 80 cents...
you might actually die from regret."
Still, it reminded him of something—
there were smart kids on the South Side.
Lip wasn't the only one capable of breaking the cycle.
And speaking of Lip—
William suddenly remembered where the kid was around this time.
If memory served, Lip Gallagher was probably over at Karen Jackson's house,
"tutoring" her in his own very hands-on way.
William rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Lip Gallagher... the genius who ruins his own life one woman at a time."
Karen. Mandy. Amanda. The professor.
Each woman pulled him deeper into the same spiral his father Frank never escaped.
He could've gone to MIT—
but no, he stayed for his family.
Then he got drunk, smashed a professor's car, and got expelled.
If only he'd learned to control his lower half,
his life would've looked entirely different.
William sighed.
"Well, it's for the mission. Karen's the South Side's number-one 'initiation quest,' and Lip... buddy, you can't handle her."
"Guess I'll just help you out a little."
After transferring the 1,000 Bitcoins into his digital wallet,
William closed his laptop and looked up.
"Oh, by the way," he said casually to the kid seller,
"mind telling me where Eddie Jackson's house is?"
---
Meanwhile, outside the Jacksons' place—
Lip Gallagher stood shivering in the cold,
hands shoved in his pockets, his breath fogging in the air.
At seventeen, he was still all bone and nerves,
the kind of kid who pretended to be confident while freezing his ass off.
He was just about to hop the fence when a hand clapped down on his shoulder.
"Huh? What's up, man?"
Lip turned, confused, to find a tall, well-dressed guy smiling at him.
"You're Lip Gallagher, right?"
Lip frowned. "Yeah... who's asking?"
"I'm a friend of your brother Ian," William said smoothly.
"I've got a quick side job for you—interested?"
He pulled out two twenty-dollar bills and waved them teasingly.
Lip's eyes instantly locked on the cash.
Forty bucks. That was more than a day's pay.
"Yeah, sure," he said, reaching for it with a cocky grin.
But William stepped back, slipping the bills into his pocket.
"Not so fast, champ. You haven't even asked what I want yet."
Lip scoffed, crossing his arms.
"Come on, it's forty bucks, can't be anything hard. What's the gig?"
William just smiled—cool, confident, showing off those perfect white teeth.
In America, a smile like that meant one thing:
middle class, no dental debt, and probably dangerous.
Lip's confidence faltered just a bit.
William patted him lightly on the shoulder.
"Don't get too cocky, kid. Let's talk business first."