My phone's battery died, so now it's just a useless piece of plastic in my pocket. I'm holding twenty dollars crumpled in my hand. The motel sign glows across the street, $49.99 + tax.
The blue timer flashes in front of my eyes: 21:00… 20:59…
I'm eighty dollars short, and my money is trapped. A cold wind stings my skin, making it harder to focus. I have to think quickly and figure this out.
I must rely on my resources and my creativity. The System's words feel like ash in my mouth. What I have now is twenty dollars in cash, a dead phone, a university ID and a whole lot of desperation.
My eyes scan the street. The shops are closed, and the windows are dark. A bus-stop bench flickers under a failing light. I notice a lone man smoking beneath a streetlight, staring at his phone—his phone is glowing, full of power.
An ugly, humiliating idea forms in my mind, but it might be my only chance.
I cross the street. My legs feel stiff and numb. The smoker glances up at me, his features hidden under his hoodie. His frown deepens and his suspicious eyes track each step I take.
"Uh… hey, man?" I grunt, my voice strained. The freezing air burns down my throat. "I need a weird favor from you?"
He inhales deeply, then exhales a thin stream of smoke from the side of his mouth, his expression unreadable.
"My phone's battery ran out," I said, holding up the lifeless phone in my hand. "I have got… uh… online cash—PayPal, Venmo. I just need to log in really quick to withdraw some money. It'll only take five minutes, tops."
He studied me carefully, his eyes moving from my head down to my feet. He noticed the juice stain on my clothes, the way I was shivering, and the panic I couldn't hide.
"Are you a cop?"
"What? No!"
"A scammer, then?"
"No! Look…" I fumble, pulling the crumpled twenty dollar from my pocket and holding it out. My hand shakes. "I'll give you this twenty bucks. I just need five minutes on your phone. Hotspot, maybe? Please?"
He stares at the twenty dollar bill, then at me, and finally at my dead phone. He takes another slow drag and says. "Fifty."
Fifty dollars, Cash up front or fuck off." His voice is cold, unyielding.
Fifty dollars? That's my entire twenty in cash, plus the thirty I have trapped online. If I pay him, It leaves me with nothing. The motel room seems to disappear, and suddenly, I'm back in that dark alley. The timer glows: 20:30… 20:29…
"Fifty? But... I only have twenty! Here, look!" I frantically empty my pockets, but all I find is lint. "The rest is in my online account, I swear! Just give me five minutes, and I'll—"
He cuts me off with a harsh laugh, smoke curling from his nostrils. "Twenty it is, then. You've got five minutes. The clock's ticking, kid."
He smirks and nods toward a grimy bench beneath the streetlight. "Sit, here is the phone." I hand him the twenty dollar. He pockets it swiftly, then passes me his phone. It's warm, glowing—a sleek new model with 78% battery left.
My numb fingers struggle as I open the browser and type in my bank login, praying it will work. The connection is painfully slow. Beside me, the smoker taps his foot impatiently.
"Hurry up, time is running out." he mutters.
Finally, the login screen appeared. I entered my username... then paused, thinking: "Please remember this," as I typed my password.
[ERROR: Password Incorrect]
Panic surged through me as cold sweat trickled down my neck. What was wrong? Did I change the password? Had the system messed with it? I tried again, only to see the same error message.
"Problem?" The smoker leans in closer; his breath smells of cheap beer and cigarettes.
"No, just…forgot it. One second!" My mind goes blank. Think, I try my old password—my birthday, Leo's birthday but nothing worked.
[ERROR: Password Incorrect]
The timer mocks me: 20:00… 19:59…
I need that $31.57. It's my ticket off the street.
"Last try" the smoker growls. "Or give me my phone back. You keep the twenty? Ha—i'm just joking." Desperation claws at me. I close my eyes. Think, Ace think. The System accessed it before but how? Did it change the password?
A stupid thought crossed my mind "Should I try it?" It would be a gamble but I have no choice. My fingers move before I can second guess myself.
SystemOverride
[LOGGING IN…](via Auxiliary Access Protocol)*
The screen flashes and shifts. My dashboard appears: Balance $31.57. Finally relief rushes over me.
"Got it!" I gasp, quickly opening Venmo. At first, I try to send a payment request but then I realize I need actual cash, and fast. Transferring from Venmo to cash would take too long and cost me fees I can't afford.
Before I can figure it out, the smoker grabs his phone back. "Time's up, deadbeat," he snaps.
"No! Wait! Just two more seconds. I'm sending it now!"
He slips the phone into his pocket and stands. "Deal was five minutes. You got your login—we're done." He turns and starts to walk away.
"Please! just a minute. I need to get my money!"
He pauses for just a second then lets out a harsh, mocking laugh that echoes through the alley.
"Not my problem. Enjoy the cold." With that, he disappears into the shadows.
I'm left standing there. Twenty dollars gone. My balance is still $31.57. It is still trapped and useless. The timer: 19:30… 19:29…
The motel sign glows in the dark, taunting me. $49.99 + Tax. Maybe $55 total. I have $31.57 online. I need $23.43 more cash.
Hopelessness crashes over me, heavy and cold. I sink onto the grimy bench, burying my head in my hands. The wind cuts through me and tears sting my eyes, freezing before they can even fall. The System's gamble got me halfway here, only to leave me stranded. I stare at the dark street, knowing poverty is waiting to swallow me whole.
Then I notice movement across the motel office. A bored-looking guy sits behind a plexiglass window, flipping through a magazine.
A final, pathetic idea crossed my mind.
I drag myself up and cross the cracked parking lot. I push open the smudged glass door. A bell jingles weakly.
Behind the counter, the clerk looks up. He's a man in his mid-forties with greasy hair slicked back, he suspiciously looks at me through thick glasses. His nose wrinkles as he studies me up.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"I want a room," I manage to speak "The cheapest one for one night."
"It will be $55.49 tax included, Cash only."
I fumble through my empty pockets, but there's nothing. "I… I have some cash online. Venmo? PayPal? I can send it right now. My phone's dead, but...."
He scoffs "We only accept Cash." Without another word, he goes back to reading his magazine.
"Please" I whisper "I have thirty-one dollars online. I can send it now. I'll owe the rest. I swear I'll pay tomorrow."
He doesn't look up. The bell over the door jingles as another man enters. The new comer is big, bald, heavy-eyed. Behind the counter, Jerry, the clerk grunts and stands. "Shift change," the new guy says.
Without a word, Jerry hustles off. The newcomer watches me, hesitation in his gaze but not disgust. He sighs, sliding onto the stool. "Rough night, kid?"
I nod, my words stuck in my throat.
"$55.49" he says, softer this time "Cash"
"I… I have only $31" My voice cracks "But I can send you the rest online via venmo, paypal. I can send it to you right now. Please i just… I need to get off the street. Just for tonight." I gesture helplessly at the dead phone. "My Phone's battery is dead. But if you have yours…?"
He stares at me for a long moment. His eyes are weary but not unkind. He pulls out his own phone. An old, cracked model. "Venmo" he says.
A flicker of hope surges through me. "Yes. Thank you."
He unlocks the app and shows me his Venmo handle: @BigMike_NiteOwl. My fingers tremble as I take the phone. I tap at the screen—SystemOverride—and watch my balance: $31.57. I send $31.00, typing Motel in the note.
[SENT] I whisper.
He watches the notification pop up on his own phone and nods. He pulls out a worn ledger and writes something down. "You owe $24.49 by noon tomorrow. Or I call the cops. Deal?"
"Deal" I choke out, relief and shame tangled in my chest.
He slides a key attached to a huge plastic fob across the counter. "Room 7, it is down the hall, last door. Don't make noise. Don't break anything."
I grab the key, fumble with it. "Thank you. Seriously. Thank you."
He just nods, already looking back at his phone.
I stumble down the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with the smell of mildew and disinfectant. The carpet feels sticky under my worn sneakers as I stop at Room 7. Fumbling with the key, I finally manage to turn it in the lock and push the door open.
The room is tiny and dark. One dim lamp by a sagging double bed. The yellow wallpaper is stained and peeling at the corners. A heavy scent fills the air, a mix of stale smoke, cheap cleaner, and something faintly sour, like old sweat.
But I don't care.
I closed the door behind me. Lock it. Slide the chain. The sound is loud in the silence.
I lean back against the door. The cold from outside still clings to my clothes, but the biting wind is finally gone. The crushing emptiness of the alley is now replaced by four walls. A ceiling, and the safety of a locked door.
I slide down the door until I'm sitting on the scratchy carpet. My whole body shakes. Not just from cold. From the release. From the sheer, overwhelming relief of not being outside.
The blue timer still glows in the corner of my vision: 18:15… 18:14…
I managed to send $31.57, but I lost $20 in the process. Now I have nothing left, no cash and owe $24.49. Yet despite it all, I made it. I'm indoors.
Suddenly, the blue System box flashes, bright and intrusive in the dim room.
[Task: The Beggar's Gamble - COMPLETE.]
[Objective: Acquire $100 USD within 24 hours.]
[Status: $31.57 USD Acquired (Via Financial Instrument Liquidation).](Remaining $68.43 Not Secured)
[Technical Compliance Achieved: Funds Acquired Within Parameters.]
[Reward: $100 USD (System Funds) - Credited.]
[Reward: Skill: Basic Haggling (Level 1) - Unlocked.]
A new notification appears below my timer:
[System Funds: $100.00 USD](Accessible via Designated Financial Interface)
And a strange sensation floods my mind. Like a dusty manual opening. Images flicker – negotiating prices, recognizing hesitation in a seller's eyes, knowing when to walk away. Basic Haggling. Level 1.
But I feel nothing. No pride, no excitement. Just a deep hollow exhaustion.
$100 System dollars. Trapped. Like the other money. Useless without a working phone to access it.
I still owe Big Mike $24.49 by noon. I have $0 cash. And my phone is dead.
The System chimes again, cheerful and cold:
[Congratulations, User: Ace!](You Have Escaped Destitution… Temporarily)
[New Primary Directive: Wealth Consolidation.]
[Stand By For Next Task…]
The blue box vanishes. The timer remains. 18:00… 17:59…
I sit on the scratchy carpet of Room 7 in the Nite Owl Motel. I'm out of the cold. I completed the task. I have $100 I can't touch. A skill for haggling I can't use. And a debt due in less than twelve hours.
I won.
So why do I feel like I just lost everything?
A single, harsh laugh escapes me. It echoes in the sour, silent room. The juice stain on my shirt glows faintly in the dim light. A trophy from a life that threw me away.
The only sound is the dripping of a faucet from the tiny, dark bathroom.
Drip… drip… drip…