Ethan didn't rush out the door right away. Instead, he swung by the corner shop where he knew a guy who rented out e-bikes.After a bit of persuasion, Ethan managed to borrow a fully charged electric scooter from the owner—an old buddy he sometimes helped with odd jobs
He wasn't stupid—those golden dots on the radar might look close, but in reality? They could be miles away. What was he gonna do, walk there on foot like some idiot? Not a chance.
By the time he fiddled with the bike and got it running, night had already fallen.
The nearby college had just finished classes, and that meant one thing: the café was about to be packed. His café might've been struggling, but peak hours were still peak hours. Ethan hesitated. He had the radar now, yeah, but he couldn't just lock up and bail. That'd be throwing money away.
After going back and forth in his head, he finally asked Chloe to cover for him a little longer.
"Only for a few hours," he promised.
Chloe didn't even argue. She practically lived at the café anyway. As long as she had a computer to mess around on, she was fine. But of course, she nagged him about being hungry.
Ethan's stomach grumbled in agreement. He was starving too. So he grabbed two boxed meals from a street vendor, and the two of them wolfed them down at the counter. Not exactly fine dining, but food was food.
With a full belly, Ethan finally took the chance to sit back and explore the system properly.
The interface in his head looked like some advanced piece of software. The main screen was the treasure-hunting radar, but below it sat four tabs: Description, Tasks, Store, and Space.
"Store" and "Space" were both grayed out, locked for now. Figures.
He tapped "Description," and, just as the name suggested, it was basically an instruction manual. There were subsections everywhere: system overview, radar guide, mission modes, treasure categories, points, space mechanics… The works. Each one was crammed with text, and even the sub-subsections had sub-subsections. Ethan skimmed, but there was way too much to digest in one sitting.
"Tasks," on the other hand, was simpler. He'd already looked at it once. It showed his mission progress, past records, and, most importantly, a countdown timer that ticked away second by second.
The numbers were dropping right now, slowly but surely.
Ethan didn't know what would happen if he failed the countdown, and honestly, he didn't want to find out. He'd already found one treasure, but who knew if the next ones would be harder? After mumbling a quick reminder to Chloe, he hopped on the e-bike and set off into the night.
The radar buzzed with hundreds of golden dots. Ethan picked the closest one and sped off.
After about ten minutes, the signal led him to an old three-story residential building. The place looked ancient—seventies, maybe eighties—and the walls were cracked and peeling. But lights glowed in the windows, and the smell of dinner drifted through the air.
Ethan froze for a second. That smell—home-cooked food, families sitting around a table—it hit him harder than he expected. He hadn't had that in years. Not since… well, not since he'd lost his family.
Shaking it off, he focused on the radar and started up the stairwell.
The closer he got, the more nervous he became. Where was this thing leading him? Inside somebody's apartment? What if the treasure was hidden under their bed? Was he supposed to break in like a burglar?
The radar pinged again, and Ethan breathed out in relief. The dot wasn't in any of the apartments. It was on the roof.
"Good. Roof's fine. Roof means no people," he muttered.
He found the access ladder and climbed, only to find the hatch sealed shut with a wooden cover and a mess of wire. No tools, no plan—just his bare hands. By the time he pried and twisted the last wire loose, his palms were raw and throbbing.
When he finally hauled himself up, he almost collapsed from exhaustion.
The rooftop was a wreck. Rusted junk, broken tiles, scattered debris everywhere. He didn't bother gawking—he just followed the signal straight to the southeast corner.
There, sitting crooked against the wall, was a busted old pigeon cage.
Feathers. Droppings. Stale air. Just great.
The radar practically screamed in his head now. Whatever the treasure was, it was here.
"Seriously?" Ethan whispered. "What kind of treasure hides in a pigeon coop?"
Grimacing, he bent down and crawled inside. The smell nearly gagged him, but he kept going until the radar narrowed in on a specific nest.
He flicked on his phone flashlight and aimed it inside.
The beeping in his head went wild. According to the manual, that meant the treasure was right there, within arm's reach.
Ethan squinted, but it was too dark to see clearly. With a curse, he shoved his hand in.
His fingers brushed something soft. Powdery. Like flour.
His stomach dropped.
"No way. No freaking way…"
The system's cold, mechanical voice chimed in:"Congratulations. You have discovered a Level 2 treasure: an illegal substance. Classified under the 'elixir' category."
Ethan froze, the words hammering in his skull.
Illegal substance. Drugs.
"Are you kidding me?" he hissed.
Treasure? This was treasure?
His whole body went cold. He yanked the bag out—it really did look like a sack of flour—and just stared at it. His mind raced. He'd never touched this stuff in his life, never even wanted to. He knew enough to know how dangerous it was.
The mission tracker blinked in his head. His progress bar jumped to 3/5. Apparently, since this was Level 2, it counted double.
The treasure was logged. But his heart was pounding out of control.
What the hell was he supposed to do with this? Destroy it? Sell it? Keep it? That last thought made him sick. The money would be huge—tens of thousands, easy—but so would the risk.
Ethan stared at the bag until his hands shook. Finally, he shoved it back where he'd found it, climbed down from the roof, and found the nearest payphone.
He called the cops. Anonymously. Gave them the address. Hung up.
Only then did he finally feel like he could breathe again.
"Damn," he muttered to himself, wiping sweat off his forehead.
No way was he touching that stuff again. The radar could call it a treasure all it wanted—he had his bottom line. He'd seen what drugs did to people. He wasn't about to become that guy.
Sure, maybe he'd missed out on a payday. But with this radar? There would always be another chance. Another treasure.
And Ethan couldn't wait to see what came next.
(End of Chapter 3)