September 19, 2024.
Timothy was handing out flyers in the streets of Manila. The sweltering heat from the sun was unbearable due to him being inside a mascot.
That's right. A few days ago, he saw the job poster, hiring a mascot for 600 pesos for six hours. That's 100 pesos or roughly two dollars per hour. As someone like Timothy who has an unending financial responsibility, such as his mother's medications, his sister's school allowance, and their family daily needs. He didn't have the luxury to say no.
He had to swallow his pride.
Inside the oversized foam suit, sweat dripped from his forehead down to his chin, soaking the undershirt he wore. His throat was dry, his legs ached, and every time a kid laughed at him or a group of teenagers whispered while pointing, he felt his dignity shrink a little more. But this was money—money that meant his sister could eat at school tomorrow, or that his mother could take her blood pressure medicine for another week.
Not only that, he was also a freshman. Even though he got himself a scholarship in the University of the Philippines, which had free tuition, there was a risk of him getting expelled because his grades were in a nosedive.
After all, he had to be busy making money instead of studying.
Just endure, Timothy. Just a few more hours…
But his vision started to blur. His knees wobbled. The sounds of honking jeepneys and chattering passersby grew muffled, as if he were sinking underwater.
Shit… not now…
He tried to steady himself by leaning on a post, but the mascot's heavy foam head tilted sideways, unbalancing him. The flyers slipped from his hand and scattered across the sidewalk.
And then everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the smell—clean, sharp, antiseptic. The ceiling above him was white. To his right, a curtain divided his bed from another patient. His body felt heavy, but at least the suffocating heat was gone.
He blinked, confused. An IV line was attached to his arm, and a pulse monitor beeped faintly beside him.
A hospital.
"Tim?" A familiar voice broke through his haze. He turned his head and saw his younger sister, Angela, age 10, sitting on a chair beside the bed. Her uniform was wrinkled, her hair tied in a messy ponytail, and her eyes were red, as if she had been crying.
"Brother, you scared us," she whispered, gripping his hand. "They said you collapsed on the street."
Timothy's throat was dry, but he managed a weak smile. "Where's mother?"
"She was talking with the receptionist to handle the medical fees. I believe it's free brother since we are at a public hospital."
Timothy felt a small wave of relief. At least they didn't have to pay thousands for this. Still, guilt gnawed at him. His mother, already frail and stressed enough, had to face hospital staff just because he pushed himself too far.
He exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. "Good… that's good."
Angela lowered her gaze, still holding his hand tightly. "Brother, you can't keep doing this. You're not a robot. What if next time… you don't wake up?"
Her words stabbed deeper than he expected. He wanted to say something reassuring, but he couldn't. She was right. Every day he walked a razor's edge. Working multiple jobs while trying to keep his grades afloat. His life felt like it could crumble at any moment.
The curtain slid open again, and his mother entered the room. She was wearing her old faded blouse, her hair pinned in a hurried bun. Her face looked more tired than ever, but her eyes softened when she saw him awake.
"Timothy…" she said, her voice both relieved and scolding at the same time. "Son, you nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Sorry, Ma." He tried to sit up but she gently pressed his shoulder back down.
"Don't move too much. The doctor said you need rest."
He nodded. A lump formed in his throat as he looked at her. This woman had sacrificed everything for them, working small jobs and skipping her own medication just to save money for Angela's schooling. And now, because of him collapsing on the street, she was forced to spend another day worrying.
I can't keep living like this, he thought bitterly. I can't keep dragging them down.
As he stared at the ceiling, frustration boiling inside, it happened.
A soft ding echoed, not from the hospital machines, but inside his head.
[System Detected.]
[Reconstruction System initializing…]
Timothy's eyes widened. A faint, glowing blue screen appeared before him, floating in midair. His mother and Angela didn't seem to notice it at all.
[Welcome, Timothy Guerrero.]
[You have been chosen as the host of the Reconstruction System.]
"What the…"
"What is it brother?" Angela asked.
"You are not seeing what I am seeing?" Timothy asked and continued. "It's floating right before my eyes."
Angela and his mother looked to where he was staring at, but there's nothing.
"Wait… you are seeing things, son? No… no…" His mother's voice wavered as worry etched deeper into her face. "Your condition may be worse than the doctor said."
"Brother, are you sure you're okay?" Angela asked, panic rising in her tone.
So they can't see what he was seeing huh? Still, it made them worry.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm just saying random things," Timothy chuckled weakly, trying to brush it off. His mother frowned but said nothing, though her eyes lingered on him with worry. Angela, still gripping his hand, looked unconvinced.
The glowing blue panel still floated in front of him, patient and waiting.
[Reconstruction System's Manual:
Core Functions
Decomposition – Break down any non-living object into its base materials.
Reconstruction – Reform decomposed matter into a new object.
Random Reconstruction: The System selects the outcome.
Specified Reconstruction: The Host specifies the desired object.
Supplementation – If the object being reconstructed is slightly lacking in materials, the System will automatically fill in the missing parts.
Usage Rules
The Host may perform one (1) reconstruction per day.
Unused reconstructions accumulate.
Example: If the Host does not use the ability for 3 days, he will have 3 available uses stored.
Reconstructions are consumed once the process is complete.
Restrictions
Cannot reconstruct living beings.
Cannot create something from nothing — an item must be decomposed first.
Reconstructions must remain within the approximate size and mass of the original object.
Small differences are automatically corrected through System supplementation.
Example: A 200g phone can be reconstructed into a 300g phone, with the System filling in the missing mass.
However, extreme differences (e.g., a stone into an entire car) are not possible.
Example Reconstructions.
Old cracked phone → brand new flagship smartphone.
Fake diamond → real diamond.
Rusty bike → modern mountain bike.
Cheap knockoff Rolex → certified Rolex (with documents).
Totaled sedan → luxury car.
]
Reading that, Timothy's brows knitted. What the heck was that? Did heatstroke mess up his brain and caused him to see things?
Wait, he was familiar with this vibe. System. He had read it before from manga, manhwa, light novels, and anime. And certainly it looked like it.
And it said he can reconstruct anything, and even transform one object to another. If it was real then their financial situation can change! Like imagine reconstructing an old phone to a brand new phone. He could sell it and make a huge profit.
But how can he try it? Definitely not in front of his family or any other people. He has to wait first to get discharged and then try it in his home.