Chapter 3 3
Shelly woke up the next morning, sore all over. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced over to check on Ethan.
He sat up on the bed, grinning at her. She let out a laugh and wrapped her arms around him, relief flooding her face.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. The doctor said you’ll be fine in two months. I’m not leaving your side,” she said.
Ethan rolled his eyes. “No way am I staying here even another hour. This place reeks of medicine.”
Shelly lifted her head to look at him, surprised by how serious he sounded.
She just shook her head and threw a playful punch at his shoulder.
Ethan let out a sigh—he couldn’t help it. He just wanted out of the hospital and into the real world again.
He started peeling off everything attached to him: first the needles, then the bandages.
“What are you doing? Stop! Don’t mess around—you need to heal.”
But he ignored her, tossing the hospital junk aside and stretching his arms.
Shelly just stared, eyes wide, as Ethan’s bare chest caught her off guard.
He gave her cheek a gentle pinch, snapping her back to reality, then threw on the change of clothes sitting on the table—a blue, dotted, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of black pants.
Once dressed, he grabbed her hand and led her out of the room.
Right outside, a nurse stopped in her tracks, tray of pills in hand, looking like she’d seen a ghost.
Ethan made a quick stop at the doctor’s office, settled his ten-thousand-dollar bill, and booked a ride back home for both of them.
He rested his head against the car seat on the way. His mind buzzed—he’d get full access to the system’s status, missions, skills, all of it, in just a couple hours. Still, he wanted to see it all in private.
Honestly, people would think he’d lost his mind, staring off into space and muttering to himself about windows they couldn’t see.
When they reached Shelly’s place, she hopped out and waved, that same bright smile on her face.
Ethan grew impatient for the rest of the ride, itching to get to his cramped little building in the suburbs.
‘If this system works, I can buy a real house,’ he thought as he let himself in.
But as soon as he walked inside, his heart dropped. Most of his stuff was missing—no TV, no fridge, random pieces of furniture just gone.
He wasn’t done panicking when a loud knock rattled the door. He swung it open, and, yep—there was Lugard, his landlord, bald and scowling.
Lugard’s a real piece of work. Friendly when you’re paid up, but if you owe him? It’s like you kicked his dog or something. Two huge, mean-looking guys stood behind him, arms crossed.
“You rotten brat! You think you can leave without paying me? I’m not stupid. If you don’t cough it up today, I’ll torch what’s left of your stuff. Boys, teach him a lesson!”
Ethan didn’t move. Strangely, he wasn’t scared at all.
One of the men grabbed a piece of wood and charged.
From Ethan’s perspective, the guy looked slow—easy to track. When he got close enough, Ethan snatched him by the neck with his right hand, punched the wood away with his left, and kneed the guy hard in the stomach. The man dropped, gasping.
The second man raised his fists and closed in, but Ethan just grinned. He sprang up, sweeping a kick across the guy’s face.
The man howled, only to catch another kick—this one right between the legs. He collapsed, motionless.
Lugard stumbled backward, eyes bulging as he watched his “enforcers” get flattened.
‘When did this punk get so strong? He must’ve taken up martial arts just to skip out on rent,’ Lugard thought, though he didn’t say it out loud.
Ethan flexed his fingers, feeling a new kind of power humming inside. He’d spent his life avoiding fights, always feeling weak. Now, he was unstoppable—two bodybuilders down in under a minute.
Ethan glared at Lugard. “Where’s my stuff? You’re the only one with another key.”
Lugard clenched his jaw. “Lucky shot, beating those two. If you want peace, pay your rent.”
Ethan sighed. “I’ll settle up once I get my things back. Until then, see yourself out.” He shut the door in Lugard’s face and slumped onto his ratty old sofa.
And then, at last—something new flashed in his mind:
[Character status is available now]
[Inventory has been unlocked]
[Lab is available]
[Summon character status by thinking or saying ‘Status’]
About time. ‘Status!’
[Host: Ethan, Level 0]
[Class: None]
[Wealth: updating…]
[Adventure: 0] [Dimension: 0]
[Skills: Heroic martial arts]
[Mission: N/A]
What’s with the question marks by each stat? Curious, Ethan tapped the one next to Wealth.
[Wealth: Total worth, including cash, properties, savings, and more.]
He checked Adventure and Dimension too. Nerdy friends used to rave about stats like these in video games, so he figured he knew what he was looking at.
[Adventure: Tracks missions completed and worlds visited.]
[Dimension: Other worlds you can visit to level up and earn wealth. Each one opens using real money and disappears when cleared.]
[Class: Like in video games, you unlock classes for special powers. You can have more than one, but only one active at your current level.]
What about missions?
[For Missions, the system will let you know when a new dungeon pops up. Clear it, win rewards, and get stronger.]
He figured out the system’s currency was cash from real life. So if he wanted something from the shop, it’d cost real dollars.
Then, a new message blinked:
[Mission 1 available!!]
-Mission Title: FF-Rank Dungeon Appeared! (Compulsory)
-Mission: Survive and clear the dungeon
-Deadline: 2 Days
-Reward: 30 Exp, $10,000, Random Box
-Penalty: Deat
h
Before he could catch his breath, a small portal shimmered open—and a door materialized right in front of him.
‘Showtime.’
