Jason stared at the glowing screen, the blue light reflecting in his wet eyes.Victor’s mocking smile made his chest tighten. The rain outside the window tapped the glass like a slow clock, each drop reminding him that his time was running out.“What did you just say?” Jason asked quietly.Victor leaned on the doorframe, his voice dripping with fake concern. “You really didn’t know, huh? Maybe you should’ve died back then with your precious parents.”Jason’s hands clenched. “What do you know about my parents?”Victor laughed. “Oh, now you’re curious. How about you come work for me again? I’ll tell you everything — but only if you stop pretending to be a saint.”Jason’s heart thumped fast.He wanted to hit him. He wanted to scream.But the screen behind Victor glowed again.> System Notice: Emotional instability detected.Task chain paused. Displaying full system rules.Blue light filled the room. Victor stepped back, eyes wide, unable to see it. The holographic letters appeared in fro

The city was gray that morning — a dull, merciless gray that felt like it had been painted just to match Jason’s chest.Rainwater gathered in the cracks of the street as if even the sky couldn’t stop crying for him.He sat on the bus, silent, staring out through a window smeared with fog and fingerprints. In his pocket, the holographic screen rested against his thigh like a silent bomb. It hadn’t glowed since midnight, after the task, but its presence made his pulse quicken every few seconds — the memory of its voice echoing in his mind.> “Task failed. One day deducted. Memory penalty initiated.”He didn’t understand what it meant until morning, when he woke up and tried to remember something that wasn’t there.Something small.Something human.He sat up, hand pressed to his head, trying to recall the face of a boy — his only childhood friend at the orphanage. But when he tried to picture him, all he saw was a blur. He couldn’t remember the boy’s name, his voice, or even what they us

The rain followed him home, whispering like an echo that refused to die.Jason walked with his hood up, every step heavy, every breath tight. The city still looked the same — neon lights, tired streets — but he wasn’t the same anymore.The system had changed him. Money had changed him. Pain had carved new steel into his bones.And yet, beneath all that, a quiet ember still glowed — a memory of what he once was.He reached his apartment, dripping on the floorboards, and pulled out the glowing cross.“Grandpa,” he whispered, “you said faith marks blood. Maybe this… this is my mark.”The holographic screen flickered awake.> System Notice:Stability restored: 78 %. New potential detected.Generate long-term task?Jason exhaled. “Yes. Something that matters.”> Task Generated – ‘Build Meaning From Pain’Objective: Create a self-sustaining platform that helps at least one hundred orphans within thirty days.Reward: +10 days life, Wealth multiplier unlocked.He stared at the glowing words.

The night Malik betrayed him, the city didn’t sleep. Neon bled across the puddles, and Jason walked without feeling his feet. Every light seemed to whisper a different version of his failure.He had given everything — his last days, his last strength — to a cause meant to outlive him. And now, before dawn, the fund that carried his name was about to vanish into the same dark that had taken his parents.He stopped at a bridge and stared down at the black water. The cross against his chest glowed faint red, like a heartbeat that didn’t trust itself.> INTEGRITY BREACH DETECTEDACCOUNT COLLAPSE IN 06 HOURSJason’s reflection trembled in the water. “Why do you keep giving me hope just to take it back?”The screen flickered once more:> Resolve Test Active.He laughed under his breath. “Then watch me resolve.”He turned from the bridge and headed toward the one place he swore never to go again — the glass tower of V Industries, Victor’s domain. If Malik worked for Victor, maybe the damage