2025-07-28 23:55:43Jared woke early.
Not because he wanted to, but because he knew what was coming.
He dressed in silence. The system screen hovered quietly in his mind, waiting. It wasn’t intrusive — more like a presence at the edge of thought. The auction countdown ticked in the background, hours shrinking by the minute.
He checked the funds on his phone: ₦420,000. Almost everything he had. No savings, no backup. Just enough to survive, barely enough to complete the mission.
His new wife still lay curled on the far side of the bed, her back to him, breathing even. Not a word since last night. Not even a glance.
He didn’t blame her, not anymore. That had been the trap last time — caring too much about people who didn’t care at all.
He slipped on his jacket and left the room.
Downstairs, the Bai family was already gathered for breakfast in the hotel dining lounge. White tablecloths, fresh fruit, clinking cutlery — all for show. Jared stepped in quietly.
The moment he did, conversation stopped.
Bai Cheng, the patriarch, looked up from his cup of coffee. His expression was carved from stone — disappointment already sitting on his face like it lived there rent-free.
“Jared,” he said without smiling. “You actually showed up.”
“I live here,” Jared replied calmly. “For now.”
One of the cousins snorted into his juice.
Bai Cheng ignored the comment. “Since you’re here, let’s not waste time. I have something you can do for me.”
Here it comes.
“In the warehouse district, there’s a supplier we use. They’re late with a shipment. Go check it out. Take a cab — and don’t come back until it’s resolved. Understood?”
Jared met his gaze evenly. “Sure. Before I go, I’ll need an advance. Three thousand.”
The entire table went silent.
Bai Cheng set down his coffee slowly. “Three thousand? For what?”
Jared smiled faintly. “Transportation. Lunch. Maybe a down payment on my dignity.”
The silence cracked — a bark of laughter from one of the uncles. But Bai Cheng didn’t flinch.
“You want me to hand cash to the Bai family’s son-in-law for a simple errand? Are you out of your mind?”
“No,” Jared said. “Just done playing games.”
“You’ll get nothing from me,” Bai Cheng said coldly. “If you can’t afford a taxi, walk. Maybe it’ll teach you some respect.”
Jared stood without another word.
Before, he would’ve swallowed it. He would’ve smiled, nodded, begged to be accepted. Not this time.
“Thanks for the breakfast,” he said. “Even if I wasn’t invited.”
He turned to leave, but just as he reached the door, another voice cut through the room.
“Wait.”
Elena.
She stood at the entrance, hair wet from the shower, wrapped in a crisp blazer, perfectly put together. Her eyes met his, unreadable.
“I’ll give him the money,” she said, taking out her purse. “Consider it a wedding gift.”
Jared blinked. That hadn’t happened in the last life.
Bai Cheng looked annoyed. “You’d waste your allowance on him?”
“It’s not a waste if it gets him out of the house.”
She handed Jared the cash — ₦3000 exactly — without emotion. Like passing a receipt. Their fingers brushed. She didn’t look at him.
He took the money, pocketed it.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Don’t thank me,” she said. “Just don’t come back empty-handed.”
She didn’t mean the warehouse.
He knew that.
—
By noon, Jared stood outside a rusted office in the outer district. The sky hung low and gray. His shoes were soaked. Mud clung to the edges of his trousers.
But in his pocket was a receipt.
Purchased: 520 square meters of rural land on the outskirts of the city.
The seller hadn’t even asked questions. No one wanted land out there — too far, too empty, too useless.
Jared had smiled and handed over the money.
[Mission complete.]
[+1,000 system points earned.]
[Inventory tab unlocked.]
A jolt ran through him. Not physical — something deeper.
In his mind’s eye, a new screen flicked open.
[Inventory: 0 items stored]
[System Shop: Locked]
[Next Mission available in 6 hours.]
It was real. All of it.
He turned toward the plot he’d just bought — a flat stretch of grass and dry trees behind a crumbling factory. It looked like nothing.
But in three weeks, when the world fell apart, it would be everything.
He took a deep breath and whispered to himself, “Let them keep calling me trash.”
He glanced back toward the city skyline.
“When this world burns, I’ll be the only one with a map.”
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Chapter 67- The Thing About Freedom
POV: JaredJared does not tell Emma where he is going.Not because he wants to hide it from her, but because he knows she would come if he asked. And this is something he needs to face without her steadying the ground beneath his feet.The imprint waits where she found it.It does not look dangerous. That is its trick.The place feels quieter than the rest of the world, like sound itself is holding its breath. The air has a faint pressure to it, the kind you feel before rain, before something gives way. The ground here does not quite commit to being solid. It remembers something else.Jared steps closer.The imprint stirs.It recognizes him immediately.Not with words. With knowing.The world tilts, gently, and then the visions begin.Not explosions. Not triumph. No glory.Relief.He sees Emma sitting beside the river, whole in a way that makes his chest ache. Her breath steady. Her gaze clear. No pauses. No flickers. No fear hiding behind her eyes. She laughs without checking herself
Chapter 66- What He Would Erase
POV: EmmaThe question slips out of her before she can stop it.They are not arguing. That is the worst part. There is no raised voice to blame it on. No sharp edge to pretend caused the damage.They are sitting near the river where the water moves slow and patient, like it has nowhere else it needs to be. Jared is skipping stones, not very well. Each one either sinks immediately or hits the surface wrong and dies with a sad sound.Emma watches his hands. Strong. Scarred now. Real.She tells herself not to ask.She asks anyway.“If you could change one thing,” she says quietly, staring at the water instead of him, “would it be me?”The world does not react.The river keeps moving. A bird calls somewhere far off. The question does not echo or shatter anything. It just exists.Jared’s hand stills.He does not throw the stone.He does not answer.That pause stretches, thin and unbearable.Emma feels it inside her chest like pressure building behind glass.She should not have asked. She k
Chapter 65- The Weight of Knowing
POV: JaredJared notices it in the pauses.Emma still walks beside him. Still listens. Still answers when he speaks. But the spaces between her words have grown careful, like she is choosing where not to step.She laughs less. When she does, it comes late, like an echo that almost didn’t bother returning.That night, the fire burns low. Not dying. Just contained. Jared feeds it small sticks, one at a time, watching the way the flames respond immediately now. No correction. No delay. Cause and effect, clean and honest.Emma sits across from him, knees pulled in, arms looped loosely around them. She is staring into the fire but not really seeing it.He does not say her name at first.He waits.The waiting stretches. Too long.“Okay,” he says finally, keeping his voice light on purpose. “You’ve been doing that thing.”She blinks. “What thing?”“The quiet one,” he replies. “The one where you think if you don’t move too much, the world won’t notice you’re there.”Her mouth curves slightly.
Chapter 64- The Imprint
POV: EmmaEmma notices it because the birds stop mid-sound.Not silence. Worse than silence. The echo of a sound that forgets how to finish.She is standing near the riverbank, rinsing dirt from her hands, when the water ripples wrong. Not outward. Inward. Like the surface hesitates, then resumes pretending nothing happened.Her breath catches.She does not call for Jared.Instinct tells her this is not for both of them.She steps closer. The ground feels normal under her boots until it does not. One step is solid, the next sinks a fraction too deep, then snaps back like it regrets allowing her weight. Her head pulses faintly, not pain, just pressure behind the eyes.The world here stutters.She kneels slowly and presses her palm to the earth.It is warm.Not sunlight warm. Active warm.Her glasses are gone. Her tools are gone. But her mind still knows how to listen. She closes her eyes and lets the feeling rise instead of fighting it.Something answers.Not a voice. Not code. A prese
Chapter 63- Something That Lasts a Night
POV: JaredBy the time the light starts to tilt, Jared realizes they have been walking in loose circles.Not lost. Just not going anywhere on purpose.The world here does not rush them. Shadows stretch slowly. The air cools without warning. When the sun lowers, it does not feel like a threat, but it does feel like a question.He stops near a cluster of trees and looks around.“This is as good as anywhere,” he says.Emma nods. She looks tired in a way that has nothing to do with weakness. More like she is learning how to exist inside a body again. She lowers herself onto a rock and watches him.“So,” she says lightly. “What’s the plan?”Jared stares at the trees.He has led evacuations. Built fortresses underground. Optimized supply chains while cities burned. But right now, all he sees is wood and uneven ground and the fact that night is coming whether he is ready or not.“We build something,” he says.She raises an eyebrow. “Something permanent?”He lets out a short breath. “Somethin
Chapter 62- Emma Forgets
POV: EmmaIt happens in the middle of a sentence.Emma is talking about the river. About how the water sounds different here, like it knows where it is going. She is explaining it badly, she knows she is, using her hands too much, trying to describe something that feels more than it sounds.Then she is sitting down.The ground is cool against her palms. Her breath is wrong, too fast, like she has been running. Her heart stutters once, then starts again, hard and uneven.She blinks.Jared is crouched in front of her.Not rushing. Not shouting her name. Just there, steady, eyes sharp, like he has already measured the situation and decided not to be afraid.That scares her more than panic would have.“How long?” she asks.Jared tilts his head slightly. “A few seconds.”Her mouth feels dry. “I was standing.”“You were,” he says.“And talking.”“You were doing that too.”She presses her fingers into the dirt, grounding herself in the pressure. The world feels intact. Too intact. That makes
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