By eight, the city wore evening like a cheap suit—creased but serviceable. The dashboard wore a grin that could vanish any second:
[Buy Box Share: 32–36% (stable)]
[Hold ≥30%: 35h 57m → 31h 12m]
Orders ticked. Labels spat. Seals kissed plastic. The rhythm dulled thought, which was the point.
A beige banner asked for ambition:
[Product Targeting (Trial): Place your ad on competing product pages?]
[Budget: $8 | Targets suggested: "PrimeChoiceGoods" ASIN + lookalikes]
[Audit Risk: +1%]
He toggled Yes, tightened targets to two listings, killed everything broad or cute, and set exact-match on no-logo slim case and matte grippy case. Waste nothing. Hit only where it hurts.
[Sponsored Product Targeting: Active | Est. CTR +6–9%]
A brick of silence hit the inbox, then shattered:
[Business Order: 12 units — delivery by Friday]
[Tier applied: −5% | Handling: same-day]
He checked stock. Healthy but not deep. Friday would chew inventory; the pilot promised oxygen if he didn't suffocate first.
[Program: Free Delivery Friday — 40h to start]
[Recommendation: Raise floor stock ≥60 units | Prevent stock-out penalties]
He opened a map, circled three wholesalers within bus range, and texted each the same sentence: generic TPU cases, black + clear, no logo, cash & carry, MOQ 50? One read it and replied with a thumbs-up emoji. Useful, in its own caveman way.
The System slid a new block into view:
[Cashflow Forecast]
• Reserve release (est.): Day 14 or earlier if delivery scans ↑
• Runway at current burn: 5–6 days (tight)
• Levers: More early scans / lower-cost SKU / business orders (prepay)
He printed a SCAN Form, bundled every label under one barcode, and taped it to the stack. One beep, many acceptances. Time was money; scanned time was money with a receipt.
A red tag flashed like a temper:
[Competitor Action: New ASIN launched ("glossy slim case") using copied keywords + a scraped version of your lifestyle photo.]
[Status: Image match failed (checksum mismatch).]
[Recommendation: Keep lifestyle shot human; rotate angle weekly.]
He swapped the lifestyle shot again—same hand, different streetlight. If they wanted his hand, they could try to steal the rest of him too.
A new review slid in for the 2-Pack:
[★★★★★]
"No logo. Clean fit. Back for a second order."
[Reputation Seed + | Avg. Rating: 4.7 (3)]
[Conversion forecast: +3–5%]
The Buy Box climbed to 37% and rested there like a cat in a sunbeam.
Then the sunbeam moved.
[ACoS Drift: 21% → 29%]
[Cause: Competitor bid bump on "minimalist case"]
[Recommendation: Kill "minimalist case" (broad). Keep exacts only.]
He killed it. The curve flattened. The orange cart icons resumed their polite trickle.
A card popped he didn't expect:
[Early Payout Pilot — Pre-Eligibility Check]
Maintain on-time shipping ≥99% for 5 days. Keep valid tracking. No policy dings.
[Progress: Day 2/5]
He didn't click anything. He just moved like a man who wanted to breathe before day fourteen.
At 9:13, a message landed with the stink of a bar fight:
Seller-to-Seller: "Hope you enjoyed your little lift. Friday I take your crown and your lunch." — PrimeChoiceGoods
He didn't reply. He opened Pricing and set Max Order Quantity: 3 per buyer. Don't let one whale drain the pool the night before a storm.
The shoebox of legal letters glared from the corner. He ignored it the way you ignore a bruise: notice, don't feed. He drafted a Screen Protector 3-Pack SKU (generic, no logo) and stopped before publish. One hallway at a time. Friday first.
[Hold ≥30%: 31h 12m → 28h 40m]
The phone rang—unknown, local. A voice he knew: boardroom warm over ice. "Sign the exit papers. Non-compete. NDA. Be smart."
He hung up. The next call came minutes later—Midwest vowels, steady. "Compliance. Amanda. Quick note—if your old employer files junk with us, it won't stick without evidence. Keep your packaging honest; your seals help."
"Got it."
"Also—Friday's pilot favors sellers with early scans. Beat your cutoff, not just meet it."
The line died. Advice noted.
He built a Friday plan like a list to survive a winter:
Stock: hit 60+ units (black + clear) by tomorrow afternoon
Bundles: push 2-Pack (Black+Clear) as hero; draft 3-Pack but hold
Ads: exact-match only; product-target competitor ASIN + one lookalike
Ops: SCAN Form for every batch; cutoffs at 2:00 / 6:00 / 9:00
CX: tamper seals with serials; "NEW — GENERIC, NO BRAND" insert
Guardrails: Max order qty 3; no promises he couldn't prove
A buyer pinged: "Do you have blue?"
Not yet. Black + clear only. If enough ask, maybe.
Truth cost nothing and saved fortunes.
He checked Inventory—not terrible, not bulletproof. He checked the map—wholesaler #2 had read receipts on his text. He set an alarm for 8:30 a.m. and another for 2:30 p.m. to hit both.
A line of orange moved across the Orders page. Then ten orange lines at once.
[Business Order: 25 units — requested delivery by Friday]
[Tier applied]
[Warning: Fulfilling this will drop stock below recommended floor for Free Delivery Friday.]
He stared at the numbers. Oxygen today versus oxygen tomorrow. The System offered a surgeon's options:
[Decision Assist]
• Accept full order → Cash now, risk stock-out during pilot
• Counter with split (10 now, 15 Monday) → Keep floor, risk losing business order
• Decline → Preserve pilot momentum, lose cash + potential repeat
He hovered. The orange lines waited like a dare.
He chose Counter with split and typed fast, professional: Can ship 10 today, remaining 15 Monday to ensure quality control. Same terms. Confirm? He attached a photo of sealed units with serials visible like soldiers in a row.
Minutes stretched.
"Confirmed. 10 today. Rest Monday. We're testing for office rollout."
[Business Order Split Accepted]
[Cashflow buffer: improved | Floor stock preserved]
He exhaled and moved. Ten units sealed. SCAN Form printed. Kiosk beep. Oxygen banked.
At 11:06, the Buy Box held 38% for a full half hour. He didn't smile. He sealed two more mailers.
His screen blinked a new kind of warning:
[Anomaly Detector]
Competitor ASIN received 12 five-star reviews in 28 minutes. Velocity abnormal.
[Status: Flagged for manual review.]
[Recommendation: Do nothing. Focus ops.]
He did nothing—the hardest, best decision. He checked his seals. He checked his list. He checked the timer:
[Hold ≥30%: 28h 40m]
Friday in forty hours. Oxygen if he earned it. A man on the other end of the wire playing whack-a-mole with napalm. He didn't need napalm. He needed proof—scans, serials, minutes shaved from clocks.
He shut the laptop, slid on his jacket, and picked up the next stack of packages.
The night pressed a palm to the window. He pressed back with motion.