Marcus woke up long before the sun.
He didn't know if it was nerves, excitement, fear, or all three twisting together, but sleep refused to come back once he opened his eyes.
Today could change his life.
Today he had to convince a man he barely knew to trust him with an entire business—without money up front, without credentials, without experience.
And still, somehow…
He believed he could do it.
He had to.
The System didn't help him.
Didn't guide him.
Didn't offer abilities.
It only watched.
TIME REMAINING: 36:12:08
He splashed water on his face, threw on the one decent shirt he owned, and left his apartment before his nerves could talk him out of it.
---
### BACK TO LONE STAR LAUNDRY
The laundromat looked exactly the same as yesterday—dim lights, tired machines, a couple of early customers yawning beside humming washers.
But today, Marcus wasn't just observing it.
He was preparing to buy it.
Ramon was wiping down a counter when Marcus walked in. The older man looked up, eyebrows rising slightly.
"You're back," Ramon said. "Didn't expect you this early."
"Wanted to show I'm serious," Marcus replied.
"Hm." Ramon gestured to the same cracked chair. "Sit. Let's talk before I open the books too much."
Marcus sat. His palms were sweating, but his back was straight.
Ramon crossed his arms. "Alright. Before we get into numbers, remind me why a kid your age wants to take over a laundromat of all things."
Marcus didn't think. He didn't prepare a speech. He just… told the truth.
"I need a real chance," he said. "Something I can build from nothing. Something I can use to support my family. I'm tired of being broke and stuck. I want to build something I can be proud of."
Ramon stared at him—no judgment, no mockery, just a deep, searching look.
"You know," Ramon said slowly, "most people your age don't think like that."
"Most people my age didn't grow up like me."
Ramon huffed a short laugh. "Fair point."
He grabbed a worn folder from under the counter and set it on the table.
"This is everything wrong with the place," he said. "Repairs overdue. Maintenance logs. The machine failures. The cash flow issues. I'm not going to sugarcoat anything."
"I don't want sugarcoating," Marcus said.
"Good. Because you're about to hear the truth."
Ramon flipped through the folder, pointing at different pages.
"This laundromat still makes money," he explained. "Not a lot, but enough to stay alive. Enough that someone willing to put in work could revive it."
Marcus leaned in. "So it has potential."
"It does," Ramon said. "But it's not a gold mine. It's a project."
Marcus nodded. "I'm looking for a project."
Ramon raised an eyebrow at that.
---
### DISCUSSING THE PRICE
Ramon sat back, folded his arms, and looked Marcus right in the eyes.
"Alright, kid. You want the truth? You're getting it."
Marcus held his breath.
"If someone came here with money—real money—I'd sell this place for about thirty thousand. Maybe thirty-five if they had plans to renovate."
Marcus braced himself.
"But you…" Ramon continued, "you don't have that."
Marcus swallowed. "No. I don't."
"So here's what I'm willing to do."
Ramon tapped the counter.
"**Twenty-five thousand.** That's the number."
Marcus froze.
Twenty-five thousand.
The exact amount the System promised.
The exact reward for the mission.
His heart pounded in his chest, because this time it wasn't about luck or fate.
It was alignment.
"Twenty-five thousand," Marcus repeated quietly.
"That's right," Ramon said. "It's fair. Hell, it's generous for what this place needs. But I can see you're serious, and I want this place in the hands of someone who'll fight for it."
Marcus wasn't sure what to say. Gratitude, disbelief, relief—all of it swirled at once.
Finally he managed, "I'll pay it."
"Within twenty-four hours of signing," Ramon clarified.
Marcus nodded. "Yes."
"You're sure you can do that?"
"I'm sure."
Ramon studied him again. "You don't look like someone with twenty-five thousand hidden under a mattress."
"I don't," Marcus said honestly. "But once the contract is signed… the money will come."
Ramon's brow furrowed. "From where?"
Marcus forced a calm breath. "From an opportunity I've been waiting on."
Ramon didn't press. He simply nodded.
"Alright," he said. "If you bring me a written contract—clean, legitimate, with no holes—I'll sign it."
Marcus leaned forward. "I'll bring it tomorrow morning."
"You know how to write one?" Ramon asked.
"…I will by tonight."
Ramon laughed. "Kid, you're something else."
Marcus smiled. "I hear that a lot."
---
### MAKING IT REAL
Ramon grabbed a pen from his pocket and scribbled his personal number on the back of a faded business card.
"This is my cell," he said. "Use it if you have questions about what belongs in the contract. Don't guess and get yourself in trouble."
Marcus accepted the card like it was made of gold.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"Don't thank me yet," Ramon replied. "Bring the contract. We'll sign. Then you've got twenty-four hours to pay."
"I will."
"You better," Ramon said. "I'm putting faith in you."
Marcus stood.
"So tomorrow morning?" he asked.
"Tomorrow morning," Ramon confirmed.
Marcus took a steady breath.
One day.
To draft a legitimate acquisition contract.
Without abilities.
Without legal knowledge.
Without help.
But he wasn't afraid.
He was determined.
He stepped toward the door, then paused.
"Ramon?" he said.
"Yeah?"
"Why me?"
Ramon shrugged. "Because everybody else who walked through that door wanted to run this place into the ground or squeeze it dry. You walked in asking for a chance. That matters."
Marcus felt something tighten in his chest. A good kind of tight.
"Thank you," he repeated.
"Don't screw it up," Ramon replied.
---
### THE SYSTEM RESPONDS
Marcus stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, and the System chimed.
MISSION PROGRESS UPDATED
STATUS: PRICE AGREED
REMAINING TASK: PROVIDE WRITTEN CONTRACT
TIME REMAINING: 33:01:17
SUCCESS PROBABILITY: 72%
[YOU HAVE OBTAINED AGREEMENT TERMS.]
[THE FINAL STEP REQUIRES YOUR OWN WORK.]
[NO ASSISTANCE WILL BE PROVIDED.]
Marcus exhaled slowly.
"I know," he murmured. "This part's on me."
The System said nothing more.
Because the rest really **was** on him.
Tonight, he had to learn contract law from scratch.
Tonight, he had to draft something real.
Tonight, he had to prove—to Ramon, the System, and himself—that he deserved this chance.
Marcus tightened his grip on the business card in his hand.
"Alright," he whispered to himself.
"Time to write a contract that changes everything."
And he walked away from the laundromat with focus sharp enough to cut steel.