Chapter 4: Risk and Reward
It was a quiet Saturday morning, and Nate was holed up in his room, staring at the screen of his laptop. His account balance had climbed to just under $2,500 over the past two weeks, and now the system's voice had presented a new recommendation. This time, it wasn't a slow-moving industrial stock. Instead, it pointed to a more volatile tech startup—risky, but with the potential for rapid gains.
[Analysis: Startup X currently undervalued due to recent product recall. Recovery expected within one week following updated product release. Confidence level: 88%.]
Nate chewed on his lower lip. His profits so far had been steady, reliable. This… this was different. A fast-moving stock like this could mean quick growth—or it could mean wiping out everything he'd earned so far. Still, the thought of doubling his money in just a few days was intoxicating. He couldn't deny it anymore: he was hooked.
"This is crazy," Nate muttered. "It's like gambling."
[Calculated risk is not gambling. Current analysis is based on known market factors and insider reports.]
"Insider reports? How do you—" He stopped himself. He'd asked before, and the system never gave a straight answer. It didn't matter. What mattered was whether or not he trusted it.
He opened the trading platform and typed in the ticker symbol. His palms were damp, and his heart pounded as he moved his cursor over the "Buy" button. "Alright," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's do it."
The moment he confirmed the trade, a wave of both excitement and anxiety washed over him. He had put everything—every single dollar—into this one stock. Now all he could do was wait and hope that the system was right.
Over the next two days, Nate checked the market obsessively. Every tick up felt like a victory, and every drop made his stomach churn. He barely slept, too wired with anticipation to close his eyes for more than a few minutes at a time. By Monday morning, the stock had started to climb. By midday, it had surged, and by the time the market closed, Nate's balance had nearly doubled.
$4,850.
He stared at the number on the screen, his mind racing. It was more money than he had ever had at one time in his entire life. The system had come through once again, proving that this strange, inexplicable power was far more than a fluke.
[Congratulations. First milestone reached: $10,000. Awarding user: S-level hand-to-hand combat proficiency.]
Nate blinked, confused. "Wait, what? What does that mean?"
[New ability unlocked. Full integration will occur over the next 24 hours. No further action required.]
The words hung in the air, incomprehensible. He had been so focused on the financial aspect of the system that he'd nearly forgotten the strange, game-like mechanics it hinted at. Combat proficiency? What did that even mean? Nate shook his head, deciding to focus on the present. He could figure out the rest later. For now, he needed to think about his next move.
The next morning, Nate stepped outside the hostel, breathing in the crisp, early-autumn air. He'd treated himself to a new coat—nothing fancy, just something to keep out the chill. It felt good to wear something that wasn't threadbare or patched up. It was a small luxury, but it made a world of difference.
As he walked toward campus, his thoughts turned to his growing fortune. The numbers in his account were climbing steadily, but he knew it wasn't enough to stop yet. He still lived in a shared dorm room, still had to carefully budget every meal. $10,000 wasn't going to change his life—not in a city like New York. He needed more. Much more.
Nate's reverie was broken when he nearly collided with Lauren again, just as he reached the university's main entrance.
"Hey, Nate!" she said, her usual smile brightening her face.
"Oh, hey, Lauren," he said, managing a small smile of his own.
"Do you always walk around with that intense look on your face?" she teased.
"What look?"
"Like you're planning to conquer the world or something."
Nate laughed nervously. "Just… thinking about stuff. School, you know."
"Right. School." She tilted her head, studying him for a moment. "You know, I've got a break between classes. Want to grab a coffee?"
He hesitated, the idea of taking time away from his laptop, his trades, and his constant analysis making him uneasy. But then he remembered his earlier resolution: he needed to live his life, not just chase numbers on a screen.
"Sure," he said. "Coffee sounds great."
At the campus café, Lauren led him to a quiet corner table by the window. She sipped her latte, her gaze drifting out to the busy street outside. Nate watched her, feeling oddly at ease for the first time in days.
"So, what's your deal?" Lauren asked suddenly, her eyes returning to him.
"My deal?"
"Yeah. You're always rushing off somewhere, but you never really say what you're doing. What's your big plan?"
Nate hesitated, the words on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't exactly tell her the truth—'Oh, I'm using a magical system in my head to become a financial wizard' didn't sound believable. So he settled on a half-truth.
"I guess I'm just trying to figure things out," he said. "Make a name for myself, you know? Get out of this rut."
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Fair enough. Just don't forget to take a breath every once in a while. Life's not all about rushing to the next goal."
Her words stuck with him, even as he returned to his dorm later that day. They reminded him that while the numbers in his account mattered, so did the moments in between—the connections he made, the small victories, the laughter over coffee. For the first time in a long time, Nate felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have both: success and a life worth living.
Sure! I'll continue the story from here:
Chapter 5: Testing His LimitsThe morning sun cast long, pale shadows across the sidewalks of Manhattan. Nate walked toward campus, his head buzzing with thoughts. It had been a few days since the system awarded him that mysterious "hand-to-hand combat proficiency," and while his trading gains were still growing steadily, a nagging curiosity kept tugging at the back of his mind. What exactly had the system given him? He hadn't tried to test it yet, but he was starting to feel a strange, subtle difference.
For one, he was more aware of his surroundings. The shuffle of footsteps behind him, the faint clicking of a woman's heels on the pavement ahead—these were details he had never noticed before, and yet now they registered easily. It wasn't just his hearing; his balance felt sharper, his reflexes more precise. Nate hadn't tripped once since the system's message appeared, even when he accidentally stepped on a loose cobblestone the day before. He hadn't paid much attention at first, but now it was getting harder to ignore.
By the time he reached campus, he made up his mind. He would test it—just to see if anything was really different. He found a quiet corner of the quad where few students passed and set down his bag. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then raised his fists awkwardly.
"Alright," Nate muttered to himself. "Here goes nothing."
He threw a tentative jab at the air, and before he could think about it, his body moved. His feet shifted automatically, putting him into a balanced stance. His shoulders rolled with the motion, his arm snapping out smoothly, powerfully, like he'd been trained for years. Surprised, he tried another punch—then another. Each movement was fluid, controlled. His body twisted perfectly to generate force, his feet danced across the ground, and his hands struck invisible targets with uncanny precision.
"What the—" he muttered, lowering his hands.
He wasn't winded at all. He wasn't even breathing heavily. Nate frowned and glanced around again. This time, his eyes spotted details he'd never noticed before: the faint wear on a nearby brick wall, the slight shift of leaves in the breeze, the tension in a fellow student's posture as they carried a heavy bag. Everything felt sharper, more alive. And when he moved—just a step to the left, then a quick sidestep to the right—he felt like he was gliding, every motion natural and controlled.
He didn't just feel stronger. He felt more in tune with himself.
"Okay," Nate said quietly, his mind racing. "This… this is real."
He grabbed his bag and left before anyone could see him, heading to the library to process what just happened. The system wasn't just giving him financial insights; it was changing his body, his mind, his abilities. He sat at his usual corner table, staring blankly at his laptop screen. The implications were overwhelming. If this "hand-to-hand combat proficiency" was real, what would the next milestone bring?
And more importantly, what was he supposed to do with these new skills?
That evening, as Nate made his way back to the hostel, his mind was still spinning with questions. He rounded a corner and paused when he saw two men arguing near a convenience store entrance. The taller of the two had a wild, angry look in his eyes, gesturing aggressively as he shouted at the shorter man. The smaller guy looked scared, his hands raised defensively.
Nate's first instinct was to walk away. This wasn't his problem, and the last thing he wanted was to get involved in someone else's drama. But then the taller man grabbed the smaller one by the collar and shoved him against the wall. The guy's frightened yelp cut through the evening air like a knife.
Nate froze. He felt his heart start to pound—not with fear, but with an odd sense of focus. His body seemed to move before his mind fully caught up. One second, he was standing there, watching. The next, he was stepping forward.
"Hey!" Nate shouted. "Let him go."
The taller man turned, his face twisted in annoyance. "Mind your own business, kid."
Nate's feet kept moving. He stopped a few paces away, his stance firm, his posture straight. "Just walk away," he said, his voice steady. "It's not worth it."
For a moment, the man hesitated, his eyes scanning Nate. Then he sneered. "You don't know who you're messing with." He let go of the smaller man and took a step toward Nate. "You want to play hero? Fine."
Nate felt the rush before the man even swung. Time seemed to slow as the man's fist came toward him. Without thinking, Nate's body reacted. He stepped back smoothly, letting the punch pass harmlessly in front of him. The man's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't stop. He threw another punch—this one faster, more aggressive.
Nate's hand shot up, blocking it with ease. His other hand followed through with a clean, controlled strike to the man's midsection. The taller man staggered back, clutching his stomach, glaring at Nate with a mix of anger and confusion.
"You little—" He charged again, swinging wildly. But Nate was ready. His movements felt effortless, almost automatic. He sidestepped the man's rush and planted a quick jab that sent him reeling.
It was over in seconds.
The taller man stumbled, his balance gone, and eventually backed away, muttering curses under his breath. With one last glare, he turned and disappeared down the street.
Nate stood there, his fists still raised, his breath steady. The smaller man stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Are you okay?" Nate asked, lowering his hands.
"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," the man stammered. "Thanks. I don't know what that guy's problem was."
Nate nodded, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "No problem. Just… be careful."
The man gave him a shaky smile before hurrying off, leaving Nate alone on the sidewalk. He stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers. That fight hadn't just been easy—it had been instinctive. Every move felt right, every reaction precise.
The system had done this. It had turned him into someone who could handle himself in a fight, someone who could protect others if needed. Nate had no idea what was coming next, but for the first time, he wasn't afraid of it. He was ready.