Morning came with a knock — no, more like pounding — at the door. Adrian startled awake, his half loaf of bread tumbling from the nightstand to the dusty floor.
"Adrian!" The landlord's voice was sharp, irritated. "Today's the deadline. You've been owing for three months. Don't make me call the men."
A cold sweat broke across Adrian's neck. His chest tightened as reality crashed back. No matter how many quests he completed, some battles couldn't be ignored — like rent.
He forced himself up and opened the door just enough to see the landlord's impatient glare. The man's bulky frame filled the narrow hallway, his lips twisted in annoyance.
"You've had enough time," the landlord snapped. "I want the full amount by tonight, or you're out."
The door slammed shut before Adrian could answer. His heart pounded. Eviction. Where would he go? He clenched his fists, his thoughts racing — then the System chimed:
[Quest: Find temporary work today and earn at least $150.]
Reward: $200.]
Adrian exhaled sharply. Work. He could do that. He had no choice.
By noon, he was down at the docks, the smell of salt water and rust heavy in the air. Dozens of men hauled crates under the sun, their shouts mixing with the groaning of metal chains. Adrian approached the foreman, who barely glanced at him.
"Day labor?" the man barked.
"Yes," Adrian replied quickly.
"Strong enough to carry?"
Adrian hesitated — his body was weak, but his eyes burned with resolve. "I'll manage."
And so he worked. Hour after hour, he carried crates, pushed trolleys, and tied ropes until his muscles screamed in protest. His shirt clung to him with sweat, and his back ached as if it might split in two. But he refused to stop. Each drop of sweat was rent, each step was survival.
By evening, the foreman handed him a wad of bills. "Good effort, kid. $180. Come back tomorrow if you want."
Adrian stared at the money in his hands, breathless with relief. The System's voice rang clear:
[Quest Complete. Reward: $200.]
[Total Earned Today: $380.]
His legs almost buckled. For once, he wasn't just scraping by — he was a step ahead.
That night, when the landlord came to collect, Adrian handed him the rent without a word. The man's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed with suspicion, but he said nothing and walked away.
Alone again in his small room, Adrian collapsed onto the mattress, muscles burning yet spirit alive. The System chimed softly one last time:
[Survival Secured: For now.]
Adrian smiled weakly, his body broken but his will unshaken. Tomorrow, there would be more battles, more tests. But tonight, for the first time in years, he wasn't a man running from eviction.
He was a man who fought back — and won.