The rest of the day passed not as a blur, but as a diagnostic scan. Every interaction was parsed. Greg's loud friendliness was a weak signal of low social threat. The indifference of others was baseline noise.
My phone buzzed with a banking notification. $50.00 deposited. Sender: DES Corp. Automated Allocation.
It wasn't a reward for manipulating Kelly. It was something colder, more fundamental: my Daily Income. The system's retainer for an active user. The first tangible proof of the new contract I'd accepted. Perform. Improve. Get paid. A transaction so clean it felt inevitable.
The system's first law was now bone-deep: Everything is a transaction. I had accepted its terms. My compliance—my first successful execution of a social protocol—had unlocked the revenue stream. The Desirability Score tracked my growth. The money fueled my survival. Two different ledgers in the same ruthless economy.
As I shut down my computer, a new prompt carved itself into my vision.
> Mission Updated: Foundation.
Objective: Acquire a tangible asset using system-granted resources or influence.
Success Condition: Obtain an object of perceived value without direct monetary purchase.
Reward: Unlock «Perception Filtering» – Toggle specific desire/thought categories.
Failure: Stagnation. No penalty beyond lost opportunity.
An asset. Not money. An object. Acquired without purchase.
The mission wasn't about earning. It was about conversion. Turning the abstract social capital I'd just earned—the slight shift in Kelly's perception, the new, unsettling quiet in my own mind—into something material.
My gaze swept the dying office. The fancy pen on Greg's desk? Trivial. The Bluetooth speaker at the empty intern station? Too noticeable.
Then I saw it.
On the clean, vacant desk of Lisa from Accounting—on vacation for the week—sat a sleek, silver Samsung T7 SSD. A tool of tangible value, currently in administrative limbo.
A plan assembled itself in my mind with the cold logic of a system subroutine. This wasn't theft. Theft implies ownership. This was acquisition. Claiming an underutilized resource.
It would require alie.
A simple, concerned inquiry to Facilities near closing time: "Hey, I noticed Lisa's out and her expensive portable drive is just sitting there. Big data security risk, right? I can lock it up in my desk until she's back."
The lie would leverage my new, slightly more credible profile—the Terrence who had just looked his boss in the eye without flinching. It would use the system's $50 payment as psychological proof of my own legitimacy. Why would a guy with illicit intentions have a legitimate DES Corp. transfer?
It was a small, clean test of the system's core premise: information and perception are currency.
I looked from the silver SSD to the glowing mission prompt. Perception Filtering. The ability to choose what to hear… or what to ignore. That was a tool. A real one. The daily cash was a lifeline, but this was leverage.
The calculation took half a second.The reward outweighed the negligible risk.
Before hesitation could form, I was already moving.
The Facilities guy, Marco, was packing up.
{Last five minutes…just go away.}
"Hey," I said, my voice even, cutting through his thoughts. "Quick security question."
I nodded toward Lisa's desk. "See that SSD? Lisa's on vacation. It's just… sitting there. Full of who-knows-what sensitive data. Isn't that a policy violation?"
He glanced over, annoyance warring with lazy concern. His thoughts however, were crystal clear: {Shit. He's not wrong. If it gets stolen, I'll have to file a report… ugh.}
"Yeah... shouldn't be out," he muttered.
"I can lock it in my desk. Log it with you right now. Saves you a write-up, saves Lisa her data." I stated it as a solution, not a request.
He blinked, the math clear in his eyes: compliance vs paperwork.
He hesitated for only a second, his desire for an easy exit overpowering procedure.
{Screw it. Better than dealing with it tomorrow. Besides, it's Terrence Holt, what could go wrong?}
"Fine. Log it here." He shoved a clipboard at me.
I filled out a simple line on the clipboard, my expression one of bland efficiency, pretending I hadn't just heard the internal sigh of his surrender. Samsung T7 SSD – Secured for safekeeping per security protocol. – T. Holt.
A useful lesson, noted. Underestimation is a form of camouflage.
He barely looked at it, grunting in acknowledgment.
I walked back to Lisa's desk, and picked up the cool metal drive. Its weight in my hand was negligible. Its value was not.
The moment my fingers closed around it, the HUD bloomed with serene, blue light.
> Mission: Foundation – COMPLETE.
Asset Acquired: High-Capacity Storage Device (Perceived Value: High)
Method: Social Engineering / Authority Leverage.
Reward: «Perception Filtering» UNLOCKED.
New Module Available.
Secondary Reward: System Favor +10.
[Desirability Score: 0.55 / 100] → [Desirability Score: 1.05 / 100]
A new layer seemed to settle over my vision. A mental interface, like a filter menu, appeared at the edge of consciousness. I could now, it seemed, choose what types of desires or thoughts I wanted to perceive. I could tune out the noise. The tactical advantage was immense.
But the real reward was the number. 1.05.
I had crossed the threshold of 1, from statistical zero to a measurable existence.
I pocketed the SSD. It wasn't a trophy. It was a receipt. Proof that the system's logic was correct. That the world could be made to give you what you wanted, if you knew which pressure points to push.
The game had a new rule, and I had just written it: See. Want. Take.
---
To be continued...