Eric left the pawnshop with his heart racing, feeling that his conversation with the young Chinese woman had awakened something important. He didn't know exactly what — perhaps an opportunity, perhaps a survival instinct — but he felt he couldn't let it slip away. The shop, that situation, that girl… everything felt like a turning point, a chance to build something greater than simply surviving.
Before returning home, he made a decision that was impulsive yet calculated: he needed more coins. Lots of them.
With the bundle of notes he had received and some of his own saved money, Eric began walking from shop to shop through the commercial district. In every grocery store, bakery, newsstand, and even small cafés, he approached the attendants:
"Can you exchange bills for coins?"
Some found it strange. Others frowned, suspicious. But in every establishment, when Eric calmly added:
"I can pay a little extra for the service."
…their reaction changed like magic. A spark in their eyes. A quick exchange of glances between employees. And then, always, acceptance.
He never offered too much — he didn't want to raise suspicion — just a couple of euros more, enough to be unusual… but never alarming.
And so he left each store carrying little pouches, makeshift cups, or plastic bags full of coins. In the last store, before leaving, he saw something that caught his attention: a portable scale.
He didn't hesitate. He bought it immediately.
There was something he wanted to confirm about the Midas System.
When he finally took a taxi — something he hadn't done in months — he realized how heavy his coin-filled backpack was. Too heavy to risk on public transport. Too heavy for a poor person to carry… but at that moment, he was no longer exactly poor.
When he arrived home, he poured the coins onto the floor, creating a loud and sparkling mountain of ordinary metal. Each piece was potential gold. He dropped the backpack, opened the Midas System interface with a command, and began converting the coins without even looking at their face value. The weight was what mattered — that was how the system seemed to operate.
When the transformation ended, Eric used the scale to weigh some of the freshly generated gold coins. Nearly identical: 7.5 grams each, practically the same weight as a 1-euro coin.
A pattern.
A system.
A perfectly calculated logic.
He counted everything carefully. Adding to the coins he already possessed, he now had 202 gold coins.
More than enough to start any plan.
And Eric did have a plan.
The next morning, for the first time in a very long while, he didn't go to work. His boss called for almost four hours straight. The phone vibrated until the battery nearly died, but Eric ignored every call.
He took a taxi back to the pawnshop from the night before.
He walked in with firm steps. The shop was empty, but tidier — less destroyed. The young Chinese woman stood behind the counter, head lowered, flipping through what seemed to be an old book, probably something left behind by a bankrupt or desperate customer.
"Good morning, miss."
The girl looked up with a flicker of hope, thinking he was a customer. But when she saw Eric, her expression fell into polite disappointment.
"Look… if you brought another coin, I'm sorry, but this time I can't pay upfront. I still haven't been paid for selling the other one. If you give me your bank account, I promise I'll send it the second I get the money. I really appreciate you selling me that coin yesterday… that money came at a very…"
She bit her lower lip.
"…very important moment for this shop."
Eric smiled calmly.
"Actually, I have a much bigger proposal."
He drew a breath.
"Would you sell 51% of this shop to me?"
She blinked. Then smiled — a disbelieving smile.
She straightened up and looked him up and down, taking in his simple black shirt, worn jeans, clearly poor appearance.
"Look…" she laughed softly. "Even if you had the money, I wouldn't do that. I inherited this shop from my father. And along with it… all the problems he left behind."
Eric assumed those problems included exactly the violent men from the night before.
He stepped closer to the counter and, in an unexpected — impulsive — gesture, lightly tapped the top of her head, as if speaking to a child. The young woman immediately stepped back, irritated by the touch.
"That's exactly why I need to be a partner in this shop," Eric said. "You're the most honest person I've met in this line of work."
(Granted, he had only met two pawnshop owners so far… but there was no need to mention that.)
The young woman crossed her arms and shot him a look of pure contempt.
Eric realized this was the moment.
"I'm not stupid," he said firmly. "I know your shop is in serious financial trouble. Trouble that can put you in danger."
Her expression tightened. She lowered her gaze.
But the color rising in her cheeks — a deep, burning red — told him he had hit the mark.
That was when Eric played his final card.
With a single motion, he poured 32 gold coins onto the counter.
The shock was so great she literally froze.
Her eyes widened. Her hands trembled.
"Where did this lunatic come from?"
That was clearly what she was thinking.
"So?" Eric asked calmly.
"Will you have a coffee with me so we can talk about your financial problems?"
The young woman didn't answer.
She didn't breathe.
She didn't blink.
She seemed petrified before so many gold coins, as if the world had stopped.
Eric then extended his hand and gently touched hers.
"My name is Eric Santos. What's your name?"
She lifted her face slowly.
For the first time, there was no fear, no anger, no contempt in her eyes.
There was admiration.
"I am…"