The notification hovered in Ethan's vision, stark and merciless:
> Upgrade a client's machine using advanced technology.
He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows digging into his knees, staring at the glowing words until they blurred.
This was different from tightening screws or replacing a burnt coil. This was… stepping over a line.
Futuristic technology.
The phrase carried weight. His stomach churned. If anyone realized what he was really doing—if corporations or the government caught even a whiff of it—they'd rip it from his hands in a heartbeat.
And yet, the reward gleamed just out of reach: 25 points. Enough to open new doors in the system's catalog.
---
He flicked open the catalog. The pages shimmered with potential: gadgets, devices, and upgrades that read like science fiction. Most were far too expensive, but one glowed faintly, almost inviting him to choose.
Energy Efficiency Booster (25 Points).
A compact module that reduced energy consumption by 50%. Adaptable to nearly any machine.
Ethan swallowed. It was practical, discreet, and—most importantly—it wouldn't look like alien tech. To most eyes, it would just seem like a clever efficiency fix.
But to him, it was a door.
He bought it. His points plummeted from 45 to 20, and a sleek blueprint unfolded in his vision. Lines of code, 3D schematics, and assembly instructions swirled together until the device hovered in his mind like a living idea.
He didn't need to build it from scratch. The system whispered guidance, showing him how to repurpose ordinary components into something extraordinary.
---
Now he just needed a client.
The café owner sprang immediately to mind. He had already earned the man's trust—and more importantly, the oven would benefit from reduced power consumption.
But hesitation gnawed at him. What if the owner asked too many questions? What if the booster's performance raised suspicion?
He paced the apartment, muttering to himself. "It's just an upgrade. It's just… efficiency. No one will call the FBI over a better oven."
Still, the thought of exposure sent shivers down his spine.
His gaze drifted to the hallway outside, where Lily's door stood closed. She had mentioned her heater the night before.
Small, safe, personal.
The idea took root. If he installed the booster there, he could fulfill the quest without risking public exposure. And… he'd have an excuse to spend more time with her.
---
By early evening, Ethan found himself standing outside Lily's door, his backpack heavy with tools. He knocked softly.
The door opened, and Lily peeked out, surprise flickering across her face. "Ethan? Everything okay?"
"Yeah," he said quickly. "I was, uh, wondering if you still needed that heater fixed."
Her expression brightened. "You remembered."
She stepped aside, letting him in. Her apartment was cozy—warmer than his, with books stacked on every surface and a faint scent of lavender in the air. A crooked floor lamp bathed the space in golden light.
The heater sat against the far wall, a squat, battered unit that rattled faintly whenever it kicked on.
"There it is," Lily said with a sigh. "It eats electricity like crazy, and half the time it won't even stay on."
Ethan crouched beside it, hiding his nerves behind a professional mask. "I'll take a look."
---
Through the Auto-Schematic Lens, the heater's guts lit up in crimson lines. The booster schematic overlaid neatly, snapping into place as if the two had been made for each other.
He unscrewed panels, rerouted wires, and soldered connections with steady hands, though his pulse raced. Piece by piece, the impossible device took shape, disguised within the mundane housing of the heater.
Finally, he closed it up and flipped the switch.
The heater roared to life—then steadied into a low, powerful hum. The warmth that spilled out was stronger, cleaner, more efficient than it had ever been.
Ethan watched the power meter on his lens. Consumption had dropped by half, exactly as promised.
Lily's eyes widened. "What did you do? It's… it's never worked like this before."
Ethan forced a casual shrug. "Just cleaned it up and made a few adjustments. Shouldn't give you trouble anymore."
She bent down, feeling the warm air. "Ethan, this is amazing. You saved me from buying a new one."
The system chimed in his vision.
> [Quest Completed]
Reward: 25 System Points Earned.
Total Points: 45.
Relief washed over him, followed quickly by exhilaration. He had done it. He had brought futuristic tech into the real world—and gotten away with it.
---
As Ethan packed up his tools, Lily brought out two mugs of tea. "You really do fix everything you touch, don't you?" she said, handing him one.
He chuckled, taking a sip. "I try."
She settled onto the couch, studying him with quiet curiosity. "Most people in this building just… survive. But you… it feels like you're building something. Like you're fighting for more."
Ethan's chest tightened. She wasn't wrong, but she had no idea how deep it went.
"I guess I don't like staying stuck," he said carefully.
Her smile was soft. "I like that."
For a moment, the room was warm not just from the heater but from something deeper, unspoken, humming in the space between them.
Ethan forced himself to stand, setting the mug down. "I should let you rest."
She walked him to the door. "Thank you, Ethan. Really."
As he stepped into the hallway, he caught her gaze one last time. And for the first time in a long while, the weight on his shoulders felt lighter.
---
Back in his apartment, Ethan collapsed onto his bed, grinning at the completed quest. He was still riding the high when the system's cold voice cut through his thoughts:
> [Warning: Quests will now escalate in complexity. Failure may result in reputation loss or technological regression.]
His smile faded.
Another window appeared, crisp and merciless:
> [Next Daily Quest Generated]
Objective: Demonstrate one advanced invention publicly.
Reward: 40 System Points.
Time Limit: 48 hours.
Ethan's blood ran cold.
Private fixes were one thing. But now the system wanted him to step into the spotlight—and there would be no hiding after that.