I had the ultimate knowledge. I had the system for infinite growth. A slow smile spread across my face. The contrast was absurd, but the path forward was crystal clear.
Then the smile dissolved as a sharp, undeniable hunger clawed at my gut. Right. Cosmic strategist or not, this meat suit had basic demands. I swung my legs off the creaking mattress, my joints protesting loudly. The room, a classic New York shoebox, reeked of stale carpet, damp plaster, and the ghostly remains of someone else's cheap takeout. It was barely big enough for the sagging bed, a wobbly dresser, and a grimy window overlooking a graffiti-splashed brick wall.
A dusty wallet on the dresser held a driver's license for "Alexander Sterling"—my new name, apparently—and a measly seven dollars and change. Enough for a sad slice of pizza and a subway ride, maybe. My reflection in the cracked mirror showed an utterly average guy: medium height, unremarkable brown hair, features designed to be instantly forgotten. A perfect blank slate, but also a nobody. In a world teeming with larger-than-life figures, anonymity had its perks.
"Alright, Alex," I muttered to the stranger in the glass, the name feeling utterly foreign. "Time to get to work."
Panic was a luxury I couldn't afford. This situation was objectively bad, but for the first time, I had an unfair advantage – the perfect consultant.
"Raphael," I thought, my mental voice quiet but firm. "Give me my current situation analysis: immediate threats and opportunities, prioritized."
My stomach gave another pathetic growl, just to drive the point home. "Opportunities?"
There it was. The ace up my sleeve. The ROB's gift was my immediate lifeline. I remembered the warning about being a ghost in the library, easily exorcised. A sloppy search for "how to get rich quick" would be like yelling in a silent room. I needed precision, surgical strikes.
"Raphael," I instructed, choosing my words carefully. "Formulate an Akashic Link query. Identify the single most profitable, lowest-risk financial opportunity actionable within 24 hours. Must be entirely digital, require only public internet access, minimal technical skill, and under ten dollars starting capital."
For a fleeting moment, I felt it—a thread of my consciousness gently dipping into an infinite ocean of pure data. Cold, utterly impersonal, like touching the raw, uncompiled code of the universe itself. No visions, just a profound sense of connection to something vast and indifferent, before it receded.
7,300%. On my seven dollars. That wasn't seed money; that was a damn rocket booster.
A wave of pure elation hit me, nearly knocking me off my feet. It was real. The power worked! But then, my pathetic body decided to remind me of its shortcomings. A rush of exhaustion, the adrenaline crash, left my knees wobbly.
I looked at my hands, pale and soft. All my grand plans were useless if I couldn't walk up a flight of stairs without collapsing. This had to change, starting now.
I dropped to the floor, carpet scratching my palms, and attempted a push-up. The strain was immediate and embarrassing. My arms trembled violently under my own meager weight. My core was jelly. I barely managed one before collapsing, panting, black spots dancing in my vision. Pathetic. One push-up, and I was winded.
Then, as I lay there, stewing in my self-pity, a cheerful chime echoed in my mind.
[Through a specific action, the Skill 'Physical Training' has been created!]
[Physical Training (Passive) Lvl. 1]: Slightly increases the effectiveness and stat gains from all forms of physical exertion. Every effort counts.]
Lying on the dusty floor, chest heaving, a genuine, unrestrained laugh bubbled up. It started as a chuckle, then grew, filling the tiny, depressing apartment. The laugh of a man who'd been handed the keys to the cosmos but couldn't open a jar of pickles. The laugh of a man staring up at a seemingly impossible mountain, realizing he now had the perfect tool to climb it, one agonizing inch at a time.
I was weak. I was broke. I was a nobody in a city of millions, on a world of gods and monsters.
But I had a plan. I had a supercomputer in my soul. And now, every pathetic, grueling effort I made would be rewarded.
With a dramatic grunt, I pushed myself back into position. The grind had officially begun.