I sat down at a window seat, pretending to scroll through my phone, but my focus stayed fixed on that faint golden residue that had shimmered in the air.
The system's text replayed faintly in my mind like a whisper.
[Processing delay detected. Target classification: High potential.]
"High potential," huh?
Whatever that meant, the system seemed to think she was special.
I tapped my coffee cup against the table, half-thinking, half-stalling. Normally, I wouldn't give this kind of thing a second thought—buy someone a drink, get a return, move on. But something about the delay gnawed at me.
The woman had stopped just outside the café, talking on her phone.
Her tone was calm, but I could pick up certain words through the glass: "meeting," "client," "adjust the proposal."
Definitely business. Probably the firm on her phone case.
When she ended the call, she looked briefly back toward the café window. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second before she offered a polite, almost knowing smile.
I smiled back before I even realized it.
Then she was gone—disappearing into the crowd, leaving a faint trail of perfume and professionalism in her wake.
I leaned back in my chair and exhaled.
"Okay, System," I muttered quietly. "You've got my attention. What's the deal this time?"
A faint shimmer flickered again, this time more translucent, like the system itself was hesitating to speak.
[Investment registered.]
[Processing suspended until further engagement with target.]
[Note: Emotional resonance required.]
"Emotional… resonance?" I repeated under my breath. "What are you, some dating simulator?"
A few people nearby glanced at me, and I quickly coughed into my coffee, pretending I wasn't talking to thin air.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. I tried to focus on my errands, but my thoughts kept circling back to her—the woman with the espresso and calm eyes.
It wasn't infatuation. Not yet, anyway. It was more like curiosity backed by logic:
If the system categorized her as "high potential," that meant something. Maybe certain people triggered stronger responses? Or maybe—
"Alex?"
The voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I turned to see her again—standing there, holding her phone.
Apparently, she hadn't gone far after all.
"Sorry," she said, smiling faintly. "You left your receipt at the counter. I wasn't sure if you needed it."
"Oh. Uh—thanks," I said, accepting the slip of paper. My fingers brushed hers for a brief second—soft skin, cool to the touch.
And right on cue, the air shimmered again.
[Resonance detected.]
[Return initiated.]
[+$2,750 credited.]
I almost choked on air.
"Something wrong?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
"Ah, no. Just—uh—didn't expect… that receipt to come with interest," I said, trying to mask my surprise behind a half-smile.
She blinked, then laughed—a light, genuine sound that didn't quite match her professional demeanor. "You're a strange one, Alex."
"I get that a lot," I said.
We stood there for a moment longer, the easy kind of silence that doesn't feel awkward. Then she extended her hand.
"I'm Emma," she said simply. "Emma Vale. I work at Linwood Investments—if you ever need financial advice that doesn't involve random acts of generosity, feel free to drop by."
"Thanks," I said, shaking her hand. "But I think I'll keep experimenting for now."
Her smile curved slightly, amused but unreadable. "Just make sure your experiments don't bankrupt you."
With that, she waved lightly and walked off down the street, disappearing once again into the rhythm of the city.
The system's soft chime returned as I watched her leave.
[Target registered: Emma Vale.]
[Relationship progress unlocked.]
[Investment resonance level: 1]
[New Function Unlocked: Emotional Amplifier — returns may scale with personal connection.]
"Emotional Amplifier, huh?" I murmured, half to myself.
"So now you want me to… get closer to her?"
[Clarification: User actions determine future yield. Continued generosity recommended.]
"Of course," I muttered, slipping my hands into my pockets. "Figures."
Still, I couldn't help but smile.
Maybe it was the idea that my strange system was evolving.
Or maybe it was just that her name—Emma Vale—had already etched itself into my mind.
Either way, something told me this wasn't the last time I'd see her.
As I turned to head home, the sunlight reflected off a nearby window, glinting across my reflection. For a brief moment, I caught sight of myself—not the tired, underpaid version from a week ago, but someone… sharper.
Someone who finally had purpose.
And maybe, just maybe—
Someone who'd begun to understand that some investments weren't about money.