The Daily Sign-in Rewards System

CHAPTER 11 - PIZZA FAVOUR

After searching the surrounding area for several more minutes, Dylan finally accepted that continuing any longer would accomplish nothing. The mysterious old woman had disappeared as completely as she had appeared, leaving behind only unanswered questions and a shattered amulet that had somehow altered the course of his life forever. 

Letting out a quiet sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and cast one final glance toward the flower shop before turning away. There was simply no point remaining there any longer, especially when every movement reminded him of the beating he had endured earlier that day.

Now that the excitement of discovering the system had begun to subside, the pain he had ignored for so long returned with a vengeance. His entire body felt as though it had been run over by a truck. 

The swelling around his face had become more pronounced, causing his jaw to ache whenever he clenched his teeth, while every breath sent a dull pain radiating through his bruised ribs. Even his legs felt unusually heavy after everything he had experienced. 

However, none of those physical injuries compared to the mental exhaustion weighing upon him. The emotional turmoil of losing his scholarship, being publicly humiliated, discovering ten thousand dollars in his account, and encountering an impossible supernatural system had pushed his mind far beyond its limits.

Attending class was the last thing on his mind.

There was no chance he could sit through lectures while pretending everything was normal when his understanding of reality had been completely overturned within the span of a single afternoon. Right now, all he wanted was to return to his dormitory, treat his injuries, and gather his thoughts in peace.

As he made his way back toward campus, Dylan noticed a small pharmacy situated near the university entrance and decided to stop. Although the adrenaline had dulled the pain earlier, it was gradually wearing off, making every bruise far more noticeable with each passing minute. The automatic doors slid open as he stepped inside, and the cool air-conditioning immediately provided a welcome contrast to the lingering warmth outside.

Standing behind the counter was a middle-aged pharmacist who looked up from organizing a shelf of medication. The moment her eyes settled on Dylan's battered appearance, concern instantly spread across her face.

"My goodness," she said, setting the medicine aside as she stepped closer. "What happened to you?"

Dylan had anticipated the question before he even entered the store. Without giving himself time to think, he forced an embarrassed smile and answered with the first excuse that came to mind.

"Basketball accident."

The pharmacist raised an eyebrow, her expression making it painfully obvious that she didn't believe a single word of his explanation. The bruises decorating his face, the split lip, and the faint stiffness in the way he carried himself looked far more consistent with someone who had been involved in a violent fight than an unfortunate sporting incident. 

Nevertheless, she respected his reluctance to discuss the matter and chose not to pry any further. Instead, she simply nodded before gathering several supplies from the shelves.

"You'll need a strong antiseptic to prevent infection," she explained while placing the items on the counter. "Take these painkillers after eating something, and make sure you change your bandages regularly. If your ribs continue hurting after a few days, you should visit a hospital and have them examined properly."

"I will. Thank you," Dylan replied sincerely.

After paying for the medication, he thanked the pharmacist once again before quietly leaving the store. Her simple kindness lingered in his thoughts as he continued toward the dormitory.

 It had been such a long time since someone had shown concern for his well-being without expecting anything in return that even a brief conversation like that felt strangely comforting.

By the time Dylan reached his dormitory, the corridor had become unusually quiet. Most students were either attending evening classes, participating in club activities, or enjoying dinner with friends.

After unlocking the door, he stepped inside and discovered that the room was completely empty. Luke was most likely still at basketball practice, while Ryan had probably remained on campus for his evening lectures.

A quiet breath escaped Dylan's lips as he closed the door behind him.

Despite everything that had happened recently, he found himself genuinely grateful to have roommates like them. Neither Luke nor Ryan had ever looked down on him because of his financial struggles, nor had they mocked him for taking multiple part-time jobs simply to remain enrolled at the university. 

They had always treated him with the basic respect and kindness that so many others seemed incapable of showing, and after today's humiliation, Dylan appreciated that simple humanity more than ever.

Setting the medicine on his desk, he slowly removed his torn shirt and examined his reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Purple bruises had already begun spreading across his chest and shoulders, while dried blood remained around the cut on his lip. 

The sight was unpleasant, but fortunately none of the injuries appeared life-threatening. Following the pharmacist's instructions, he carefully cleaned each wound with antiseptic before wrapping the worst cuts in fresh bandages.

Although the disinfectant stung sharply against his skin, the sensation was far preferable to allowing the injuries to become infected.

Once he finished treating himself, Dylan swallowed the painkillers with a bottle of water before collapsing onto his bed. Within several minutes, the medication gradually began taking effect.

The relentless throbbing that had accompanied every movement throughout the evening slowly subsided into a dull ache, allowing his tense muscles to relax for the first time all day. Staring quietly at the ceiling, Dylan replayed the unbelievable events of the afternoon in chronological order, almost as though he feared they might disappear from his memory if he stopped thinking about them.

Ten thousand dollars.

For most people, it was certainly a significant amount of money, but it wasn't enough to completely transform their lives.

For Dylan, however, it meant something entirely different.

It wasn't nearly enough to eliminate the forty-seven-thousand-dollar tuition debt threatening to destroy his future, nor could it erase the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of those determined to ruin his life. 

Yet the money represented something far more valuable than its numerical value.

It represented possibility.

Until this morning, every road ahead had seemed blocked by obstacles he lacked the strength or resources to overcome. Now, for the first time in weeks, he could finally see a narrow path leading toward a future that wasn't entirely consumed by hopelessness. 

The burden resting upon his shoulders hadn't disappeared, but it no longer felt completely impossible to bear.

A loud growl from his stomach interrupted his thoughts, reminding him that he had barely eaten anything since early that morning. Between attending classes, working, and enduring everything that followed, food had become the least of his concerns.

Dylan chuckled softly to himself.

"Right... I should probably fix that first."

Reaching for his phone, he opened a food delivery application and ordered a large pizza without bothering to overthink the expense. Under normal circumstances, he would have settled for the cheapest meal available, carefully calculating every dollar before making a purchase. 

Tonight, however, felt different. After everything he had survived, allowing himself one decent meal hardly qualified as reckless spending.

Approximately thirty minutes later, a gentle knock echoed through the room.

Dylan rose from the bed and walked toward the door before pulling it open. Standing outside was a delivery rider carrying several pizza boxes balanced carefully in his arms. 

Sweat dampened the man's uniform despite the cool evening air, and exhaustion was written plainly across his face. His hair clung to his forehead, while the dark circles beneath his eyes suggested he had probably been working since early morning.

The sight struck Dylan with unexpected force.

Not long ago, he had looked exactly the same.

There had been countless nights when he raced across the city on his bicycle, desperately trying to complete enough deliveries to cover his rent and tuition expenses. 

He remembered the aching muscles, the impatient customers, the long hours, and the overwhelming fatigue that accompanied every shift. Looking at the rider now was like looking at a reflection of his own recent past. 

"Tough day?" the delivery rider asked with a sympathetic smile after noticing the bruises covering Dylan's face.

"You could say that," Dylan replied, returning the smile despite the soreness around his mouth.

The rider let out a quiet chuckle before handing over the pizza.

"Well, whatever happened, I hope lunch makes the rest of your day a little better."

Dylan completed the payment through the application before hesitating briefly. Almost without thinking, he reached into his wallet, removed several notes of the hundred-dollar bills he had withdrawn earlier, and held it out toward the delivery rider.

The man's eyes widened immediately.

"Sir...?"

"Keep it," Dylan said simply.

The rider stared at the bill in stunned disbelief before looking back at Dylan.

" Five hundred-dollar tip?" he asked uncertainly. "That's... that's far too much."

Dylan shook his head gently.

"No, it isn't. I know exactly how difficult this job can be because I used to work as a delivery rider myself. There were days when even a small tip made the difference between going to bed hungry or being able to afford a proper meal. Think of it as someone paying forward the kindness I always hoped to receive."

The rider remained speechless for several seconds.

Finally, he accepted the money with slightly trembling hands, his eyes visibly moist with gratitude. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You honestly have no idea how much this is going to help me."

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Dylan replied with a warm smile.