Ethan
The email sat in his inbox like a coiled snake.
Subject: Partnership Proposal – Harland Investment Group
Attachments: Draft Contract.pdf
Ethan hadn't even clicked it yet, but the subject line alone set his stomach twisting. The system lens pulsed in the corner of his vision, feeding him a cold reminder:
> \[External Interest Escalating. Handle with caution.]
He dragged a hand down his face. Tomorrow Works was barely more than ink on paper, yet already sharks circled.
The problem wasn't just Harland. It was time. The system kept pushing him forward at a pace that felt unsustainable. He'd barely filed the incorporation papers, and already a new quest hovered on his HUD.
> [Daily Quest: Register a Business Account and Secure Initial Capital Investment.]
> Reward: 150 Points + Resource Unlock.]
> Time Limit: 4 Days.]
Capital. Investors. Ethan knew what that meant: men like Harland, dangling money and chains in equal measure.
He shoved away from his desk, pacing. The Nano-Repair Kit on his shelf glimmered faintly, as if mocking him. *Machines, I can fix. People? Contracts? That's a whole different beast.*
A knock at the door startled him. He half-expected Harland himself, but when he opened it, it was Lily, holding a bag that smelled of fried rice.
"You didn't come down for dinner again," she said, brushing past him without waiting for permission.
Ethan blinked, shutting the door. "I wasn't hungry."
"Liar." She set the bag on the counter, pulling out cartons. "Eat. You're pale."
Her casual tone chipped away at the tension. He slumped into a chair, watching as she unpacked food.
"You've been… different," she said after a moment, not looking at him. "I don't know what's going on, but I can tell you're carrying too much. You don't have to do it all alone."
Ethan opened his mouth, then shut it again. The system's silent warning pressed at the back of his mind. Disclosure = penalties.
But Lily's presence—the calm way she grounded the chaos—felt like a lifeline.
"I'm trying to build something," he admitted softly. "And people are already circling, trying to take it before I even know what it is."
Her eyes flicked to him, sharp. "Then don't let them. You don't strike me as the type to roll over."
The words struck deeper than she knew.
---
Derek Harland leaned back in his office chair, swirling amber liquid in a glass. The city skyline glowed through the windows, neon lights reflecting in the liquor.
On his screen, the draft contract pulsed—a trap dressed as a gift.
Clauses tucked into the fine print ensured Tomorrow Works would belong to his firm within six months. Ethan Cole would be little more than a mascot for the technology.
Harland smiled thinly. Every innovator thinks they're special. Every one of them needs money. They always take the deal in the end.
He tapped his desk, pulling up a feed from his surveillance cameras. Ethan's apartment appeared, grainy but clear enough: the boy pacing, talking to the neighbor girl.
Harland narrowed his eyes at the girl. She was always there. Always orbiting him. He made a note to have her checked.
If she was leverage, he'd use her. If she was a threat, he'd remove her.
---
Morning sunlight filtered through his blinds when Ethan finally clicked the contract. The document sprawled across his screen, dense with clauses and sub-clauses.
He skimmed the first pages—profit sharing, manufacturing rights, marketing. All generous. Almost *too* generous.
By page twelve, his stomach turned.
Clause 14: In exchange for initial funding, Tomorrow Works grants Harland Investment Group exclusive rights to oversee product development pipelines for a minimum of ten years.
Clause 18: All intellectual property developed under the Tomorrow Works entity shall be considered joint ownership, with Harland Investment Group holding controlling interest.
Ethan cursed under his breath. *He's trying to gut me before I even stand up.*
The lens chimed softly.
> \[System Notice: Exploitation Detected.]
> Recommendation: Reject terms.]
But the daily quest burned in his vision. *Secure Initial Capital Investment.*
He slammed his laptop shut. "Damn it."
---
Lily
When she knocked, Ethan looked worse than ever—pale, jaw tight, eyes shadowed.
"Bad night?" she asked gently.
"Bad week," he muttered.
She tilted her head. "Show me."
He hesitated, but she folded her arms, daring him to argue. Finally, he opened the laptop and slid it across the table.
Her eyes scanned the contract. She wasn't an expert, but even she saw the danger. Too many locks, too many hooks.
"They're trying to own you," she said bluntly.
Ethan's shoulders sagged. "I know. But I need capital. The system—" He cut himself off, biting the words back.
"The what?" she asked, brow furrowing.
"Nothing." His voice was sharp, defensive.
Her eyes narrowed, but she let it slide. For now.
Instead, she reached across the table, tapping the screen. "Then find another way. Banks. Grants. Hell, crowd-funding. You don't need to sell yourself to someone like this."
Her certainty startled him. She said it like fact, not hope.
For a flicker of a moment, Ethan believed her.
---
The rejection email came that afternoon. Polite. Firm.
Harland read it twice, a slow smile spreading across his face. *So the boy has teeth.*
That made it more interesting.
He leaned forward, drafting a new message—not to Ethan, but to a contact in City Hall. If the boy wouldn't take his hand, perhaps pressure from the other direction would loosen his grip.
Harland thrived in pressure games. And Ethan Cole was about to learn what pressure really meant.
---
That evening, Ethan sat with Lily, cartons of leftover rice between them, exhaustion pulling at his limbs.
The system lens flickered, new text forming across his vision.
> \[New Quest Generated.]
> Objective: Acquire Initial Capital Through Independent Means.]
> Reward: 200 Points + Resource Unlock.]
> Penalty for Failure: Business Entity Dissolution.]
> Time Limit: 5 Days.]
His chest tightened. If he failed, Tomorrow Works would be erased before it had even begun.
He clenched his fists. "No more deals with devils," he whispered.
But the truth was undeniable: he couldn't do this alone.
And as Lily's hand brushed his, steady and warm, Ethan knew this was only the beginning of the allies he'd need to survive.