From Fat to Untouchable: The System's Billion-Dollar Payback

Chapter 1

~ Task-Master System ~

"Drop those pallets before you snap your spine, Asher!" Elijah Noah shouted across the warehouse, pointing a finger toward the bay.

Asher Reed tightened his fingers around the pine wood, his knees shaking under the three-hundred-pound stack of frozen poultry he was carrying.

Sweat ran down his neck, soaking his shirt and dripping onto his boots as he took five slow, painful steps.

He slammed the load onto the ground with a loud thud, his chest rising and falling while he fought to catch his breath.

His body burned with ache, built from months of four-hour sleep cycles, eating cheap carbohydrate food, and the double shifts between his morning lectures and night work.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, then gently slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, with a crack running through it like tiny veins.

A notification popped up on the bar; it was from the bursar's office at the university, warning him that his remaining semester tuition balance was three days overdue.

Asher stared at the glowing text, his stomach dropping into cold dread as he remembered the stack of cash he handed over yesterday afternoon.

His sister Lila lay on the hospital bed at the Life Hospital, her body slowly fading in strength under a rare degenerative condition that required immediate medical attention.

The private clinic specialist, Billy Harold, had promised a spot in an experimental drug trial if Asher paid twenty thousand dollars up front in cash.

Asher had drained his college savings, liquidated his small emergency fund, and taken an advance on his warehouse earnings to meet up with the demand.

He was ready to run to the ends of the earth to save his lovely sister.

Asher quickly dialed Billy’s mobile number, holding the phone against his ear while his heart hammered against his ribs.

"The number you have dialed is no longer in service," a monotone recorded voice repeated into his ear. "Please check the number and try your call again."

Asher dialed the number a second time, then a third, his breathing low and fast as the same voice answered at each call attempt.

He opened his browser, typed in the name of the clinic, and watched the main page refresh into a blank white screen with an error code reading server domain canceled.

The truth struck him like a dagger diving into the chest; Billy Harold was a scammer who took his money and erased his entire existence overnight.

"Hey, useless! Get back on your shift!" Elijah roared from the office door, slamming his clipboard at the doorframe.

Asher did not move, his eyes fixed on his blank phone screen while his mind filled with chaos.

Before he could put the phone away, the screen lit up with an incoming call from his father, Albert Reed.

Asher swiped the green icon, bringing the phone to his ear with a nervous breath. "Dad, listen to me, something happened with the medical deposit."

"Do not call me your father, you thieving disappointment!" Albert Reed screamed through the speaker, his voice distorted with furious rage.

"Dad, please, the doctor vanished; he tricked us," Asher pleaded, his voice cracking as he leaned his back against a wall.

"Save your pathetic lies!" Albert yelled, coughing violently before continuing. "The bank manager called me five minutes ago! You took out an outrageous loan using your mother's address as collateral and lost it all! Joy is sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing her heart out because of you!"

"Dad, I didn't take a loan; I used my own savings!" Asher said, his chest tugged with worry.

"You destroyed your sister's last chance to live, Asher," Albert said, his tone dropping into dread that cut deeper than the yelling. "Pack your things out of my house tonight. If I see your face near this house again, I will call the police myself."

The call disconnected, leaving Asher standing in the middle of the warehouse with the phone frozen in his hand.

He stood motionless while the deafening hum of the automated conveyor echoed off the tin roof above him.

Every sacrifice he made, every tear in his muscles, and every night spent starving in his cramped room had ended in total ruin.

He shoved the phone into his pocket, gripped a hand truck with both hands, and pushed through the final four hours of his shift.

When the sun rose, Asher clocked out, walked to his rusted hatchback, and drove straight toward the university grounds.

He found Chloe sitting on the concrete bench outside, checking her reflection in a small silver mirror while she adjusted her lipstick.

She wore a designer jacket, her blonde hair styled into neat waves that caught the morning sunlight.

"Chloe," Asher called out, his voice hoarse and raw as he walked up the paved walkway toward her.

She glanced up, her eyes widening in immediate disgust as she looked at the grease stains on his jeans and swollen eyes.

"Asher, stand back; you look like a homeless person," Chloe said, turning her head away and waving a hand in front of her nose.

"I need help, Chloe," Asher said, his hands shaking slightly as he took another step forward. "My family kicked me out, the doctor took every cent I had, and the university is dropping my classes today."

Chloe let out a short, sharp laugh, snapping her silver mirror shut with a loud click.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, leaning back against the bench with her arms crossed. "Did you actually think I was going to stay with a fat, broke loser who spends his weekends pushing boxes for pocket change?"

"Chloe, we've been together for two years," Asher said, staring at her in disbelief.

"Two years of eating cheap fast food in your broken car!" she barked back, her eyes laced with disgust. "I only stayed around because I thought your hockey career would go somewhere, but you spend every game sitting on the bench absorbing space."

A sleek blue sports car pulled up with a loud rumble, its engine shaking the nearby windows.

The door swung open, and Caelum Thorne stepped out, holding a silver key between his fingers with an arrogant grin spread across his face.

Caelum was the captain of the university hockey team, the son of a billionaire property tycoon, and the man who ruled the campus athletic department.

Chloe stood up immediately, stepping over to Caelum and wrapping her arm around his waist with a smile.

"Is this trash bothering you, baby?" Caelum asked, looking down at Asher as if he were trash dumped on the sidewalk.

"He's begging for money like a dog," Chloe sneered, resting her head against Caelum's shoulder.

Asher looked from Chloe to Caelum, the betrayal tinged on his chest. He felt like his breath was going to hitch.

"You were sleeping with him while I was working double shifts to pay my tuition," Asher said, his voice dropping into a low tone, disappointment brewing up inside of him.

"Watch your tone when you speak to my girl, Reed," Caelum warned, stepping forward and shoving Asher's shoulder with his palm.

Asher did not move an inch; he took the blow without flinching in pain, his eyes locking onto Caelum's face.

Caelum blinked in surprise at his resistance, the smirk on his face averting into a dangerous intent.

"Meet me behind the outdoor rink at midnight, Reed," Caelum muttered, leaning closer so only Asher could hear. "Bring your hockey gear. Let's see if that fat frame can take a real hit." His eyes met Asher's, dead with murderous instinct.

Caelum turned, opened the passenger door for Chloe, and sped off down the avenue, leaving a cloud of dark exhaust behind them.

Asher spent the rest of the day in the bursar's office, standing in line for three hours only to receive a formal notice of academic suspension handed to him by the clerk.

When midnight arrived, the air was so cold, covering the path around the outdoor rink in ice.

Asher walked into abandoned bleachers, carrying his old canvas sports bag over his right shoulder.

Caelum was already standing near the center of the rink, with his manic followers, Vincent White, Rowan Knightford, Bradley Logan, Caleb Joe, Mason Lucas, and Oscar Olive.

All six players wore their official team jackets, tossing wooden sticks between their gloved hands with cruel grins curling up on their faces.

"You actually showed up," Vincent White chuckled, stepping forward to block Asher's retreat path back toward the parking lot.

"Get it over with," Asher said, dropping his gym bag onto the frozen ground with a dull thud.

"Take his jersey first!" Caelum ordered, pointing his stick at Asher's chest. "He doesn't deserve to wear our team colors on this campus!"

Before Asher could raise his arms, Rowan Knightford and Caleb Joe lunged forward, grabbing his arms and pulling him down onto the slick ice.

Mason Lucas and Oscar Olive kicked his legs out from under him as he slammed his body hard onto the ice.

Caelum stepped up, driving his boot directly into Asher's ribs with a crunch that echoed in the night.

Bradley Logan grabbed the collar of Asher's jersey, ripping the fabric down the center seam and tearing it off his body.

Asher curled himself into a tight ball, guarding his throat and head while six pairs of boots kicked him repeatedly in the chest, back, and thighs.

He clamped his jaw shut, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a single cry or scream, blood filling his mouth.

Caelum pulled out his smartphone, holding the camera steady as he recorded Asher bleeding onto the ice.

"Look at the great Asher Reed," Caelum laughed into his phone, stepping on Asher's hand with his full weight. "A broken, homeless, fat piece of trash lying where he belongs."

After ten minutes of brutal beating, the six players turned around, laughing loudly as they walked back toward their luxury cars in the lot.

Asher lay completely still on the ice, his vision blurring with red patches, with a pool of blood spreading beneath his torn cheek.

He could hardly breathe, his consciousness slowly slipping away from him; a chime rang loudly inside his brain.

[Host Vitals: Critical. Physical Damage: Severe Internal Fractures. System Initialized.]

[Task-Master System: Online.]

[First Mandatory Task: The Crucible of Sweat. Complete 8 Hours of Non-Stop Physical Exertion and Endurance Training.]

[Task Completion Reward: $1,000 USD Bank Deposit + Physical Muscle Realignment.]

A wave of fire erupted from the base of Asher's spine, shooting through his veins and instantly sealing his torn blood vessels.

His eyes snapped open, glowing with a cold, golden ring around his pupils as he drove his fingers directly into the solid ice beneath him.

His broken ribs popped back into alignment with a loud snap, and Asher dragged himself upward, standing tall.

He spat a mouthful of blood onto the ice, pulled out his cracked phone with a steady hand, and watched a green prompt flash across his vision.

"Is that all you've got, Caelum?" Asher whispered, his voice cold and low.