"F**k."
He sat there, staring blankly at the screen. Then, slowly, he grabbed his head with both hands. "I truly fuc*ed up…"
His voice echoed in the apartment. Po looked up from the windowsill, confused by the sudden outburst.
"I could've bought more Luminous Panda eggs," Lin Fang muttered. "I could've stocked up, invested in a proper team. But instead…" He clenched his jaw. "I chased after a maybe. When will you ever learn a lesson…"
It was a familiar feeling. One that left an old, bitter taste in his mouth.
Back when his father passed away, his mother married another guy, and his sister left abroad, Lin Fang had inherited a modest sum left by his father. Not enough to live in luxury, but enough to give him a head start.
Instead, he poured it all into the shop. Renovations, gimmicks, flashy marketing tricks, bulk pet food that expired too fast. All in the name of turning a quick profit.
He failed back then, and now, when he finally received an opportunity to grow, he messed up again.
He sank into the chair, defeated.
Just then… As if the system understood his feelings, it suddenly sent him a reminder.
Ding!
A notification sound rang in his skull.
And new writings appeared on the holographic screen.
[System Notification: "Upon binding the Summoner System to a shop location, future credit earnings can be converted into Store Coins at a fixed rate."]
His eyes widened. "Wait… what?"
He read it again.
And again.
He scrambled to pull up the system log:
Feature Locked: Coin Conversion
Bind a store to unlock coin conversion. Once unlocked, purchases made through the system-bound shop will yield Store Coins in proportion to credit earnings.
A spark flickered behind his eyes.
"That means… even if I mess up again… I won't be broke forever. I still have the opportunity to progress…"
The despair inside him began to shift into resolve.
Lin Fang stood up slowly, walking toward the window where sunlight streamed in, gently lighting the panda's fur.
He looked out across the city skyline, his reflection faint in the glass.
"No more reckless gambling from now onwards, no matter how tempting it is going to be," he whispered. "We will go slow but steady this time."
He clenched his fist, the mark of the summoner still faintly glowing on his palm.
The next morning, Lin Fang zipped up his jacket and strapped his backpack tight.
He glanced once at Po, who was still curled up on the bed like a sleeping dumpling, and whispered, "You stay here. Don't make noise. And definitely don't get spotted."
The little panda gave a sleepy snore in response.
Unfortunately, he couldn't place the little panda in the inventory, as only non-living things can be stored inside. And neither did the system give him any specialized pet inventory kind of function. Hence, he had to leave the panda as he had left home.
Lin Fang locked the door, stepped outside, and swung a leg over his battered but loyal motorcycle. The engine coughed to life, and with a low rumble, he rolled off into the city streets, heading toward the suburbs.
His mission: find a place to live and a store to bond with.
The city's core was far too expensive. Even with over a million credits in the bank, real estate in central zones was brutal. Especially for someone with no steady job, no registered business anymore, and no reputation.
The first place he visited was a sleek real estate office just off the highway. Glass doors, polished counters, digital listing walls, it looked promising. But the moment the prices flashed on the screen, his jaw nearly hit the floor.
"A store and a residence?" the agent asked politely. "Even in lower-tier districts, that'll run you close to 900,000 credits minimum, just for rental rights, not renovation."
Lin Fang forced a smile. "That's… out of my range. Any smaller properties with storage?"
They showed him a few cramped back-alley rooms in half-abandoned neighborhoods. Moldy walls. Shattered tiles. One even had a broken gate swinging in the wind like a horror movie prop.
After a full day of disappointment, Lin Fang returned to his home, and repeated the process again the next day.
And the next.
Seven days passed. Seven days of riding through unfamiliar districts, arguing over prices, trying to find an affordable store with atleast another spare room for him to sleep and live. But none of it clicked.
Too expensive. Too run-down. Too far from customers. Or worse, no pets allowed.
Eventually, something inside him cracked.
"If I keep chasing the perfect store, I'll end up homeless," he muttered.
That night, sitting cross-legged on the floor with instant noodles in his lap, Lin Fang gave up on private living altogether and opened the classifieds tab on the city hub net.
Search: Shared apartment. Cheap. South or Central District.
Results flooded the screen. Most were either scams, couple traps, or just plain creepy. But then, one post caught his eye.
ROOM AVAILABLE – Shared Flat
Location: Sector 12, Evergreen Residences
3-bedroom unit, 1 room vacant.
Rent: 400 credits/month
Deposit: 1000 credits
Separate room and private bathroom.
Meals provided.
Bills (electricity/internet/gas) are split equally among tenants.
Gender is not mandatory. Must be an adult. ID required.
Monsters are allowed in the building.
Optional: Share the room, pay rent of only 200 credits.
Lin Fang raised an eyebrow. "Free meals? Private bathroom? Only 400 a month? And even monsters are allowed? That's so great… I wonder how it is going to be."
Even with the bill-sharing clause, it was an insane deal. And there is no gender requirement either? And it is not even in the suburbs? Suspiciously good.
He clicked the contact.
The profile was sparse, just a username, "QY-92", and a voice-only call option.
Lin Fang tapped Call.
After a few rings, a calm, slightly sleepy female voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, uh, Hi, I saw your room listing on the classified tabs on the city hub website. Is it still available?"
There was a pause. "It is. You'll need to bring your ID, and come before 6 PM if you want to see the room."
"I can be there in an hour."
"Alright. It's Evergreen Residences, Sector 12, Building 5C. Top floor. Apartment 17."
"Got it. See you soon."
The call ended.
Lin Fang closed the screen, finished the noodles in three bites, then threw on his helmet and rushed out.
As the city blurred past him, he couldn't help but feel the stirrings of hope again. It wasn't what he expected. It wasn't the grand storefront or dual-shop plan he'd envisioned.
But right now, stability mattered more.
And 400 credits a month, with free meals, was practically a miracle.
He drove forward toward Evergreen Residences, unaware that this small decision would soon turn his life further. But, whether it is for the better or for the worse, only time will tell.