The next day, Drake stood in the doorway of what the landlord generously called a "cozy studio apartment. But that was a nice lie. The room was small—only about four hundred square feet. The floor was old and filled with scratches, the paint on the walls was coming off, and the bathroom was so tiny he would have to stand sideways just to use the sink. Through the small window, he could see a dirty dumpster and a chain-link fence.
But Still... It was better than being homeless or living on someone else's dirty couch.
"First and last month, plus security deposit," The landlord said. His name was Gomez. He was a big man who smelled like cigarettes and kept scratching his large belly. "That's $1,800 total, cash preferred."
Drake counted the money he had withdrawn from an ATM machine before coming and handed it to him slowly, feeling each dollar-bills leave his fingers. His account balance was now from $5,899 to $4,099. With the rational part of his brain screaming that this was reckless. He should save this money, invest more, and build a safety net. But the part of him that spent a whole week sleeping on Tommy's cousin's dirty couch didn't care about rationale.
"here are the keys," Gomez said, dropping them into Drake's palm. "Rents due on the first. Don't be late to pay, or I will kick you out myself.
The door shut behind the landlord, and Drake was alone in his new apartment. He placed his single duffel bag down on the worn carpet and just stood there, letting everything sip in. Just above him he could hear couples upstairs arguing in Spanish. Which Drake couldn't understand. And to top it up the radiator was making a loud metal sound.
Drake sighed. It wasn't perfect—but for that price range this was what he could get and he was ok with it.
He left the apartment and took a bus to a pawn shop on Fletcher avenue that he saw online. The place smelled like dust and desperation when he stepped in.
"Can I help you?" Asked the guy behind the counter. He has a gray ponytail with reading glasses perched on his nose.
"yeah, drake replied. Looking for a laptop. Something decent but cheap."
The man nodded and disappeared into the back, returning with three options for him to pick from. Drake ended up choosing a Dell laptop that was four years old but had a solid processor and enough RAM to open multiple browsers without slowing down. It cost $380, and the man even gave him a used wireless mouse that looked like it had been through war.
Drake carried it back to his apartment like it was made of glass.
By evening, he had turned the corner of his small apartment into a little workspace. The laptop sat on a folding table he'd picked up from a thrift store for $15. He also got a use mattress and a cheap office chair at a discount furniture warehouse — the kind of cheap office chair that will probably give him back pains, but better than sitting on the floor.
He turned on the laptop and logged into his trading account. He had $3,704 left after all his purchase. Less than he had started the week with, but none of that mattered, because now he had a place of his own and what he needed to work and build more money.
The system interface appeared in front of him:
[ "Setup complete. Your workspace is now 15% more efficient." ]
[ New Quest Available ]
Drake clicked on the notification, and the details expanded across his vision:
[ Special Task: Atend the Apex Elite Gala ]
[ Date: Saturday, November 17th, 8:00 PM ]
[ Location: Harrington Grand Hotel, Presidential Ballroom ]
[ Goal: exchange contact with at least 3 Influencial figures ]
[ Reward: +2 Charisma, a special business opportunity ]
[ Note: This could change your trajectory.]
Seeing this Drake's first instinct was to laugh. Him? At a gala? With real actual rich people?
He pulled up the event website on his laptop. The APex Elite Gala was apparently a legendary annual gathering where tech billionaires rubbed shoulders with politicians, celebrities, and old rich families. The kind of event where deals worth millions were made over champagne and small talk. It was definitely not a place for someone like Drake Wayne —a former pizza delivery guy with fading bruises on his ribs.
He scrolled down to the ticket information and felt his stomach drop.
General Admission: $2,500 per person.
"That's insane," he muttered. "That's one-third of all my money. Hell, No!."
The system responded immediately:
[ "This is an investment in your connections. The people you meet could bring you huge opportunities." ]
[ "Estimated return: 5,000–10,000% in six months." ]
Drake stared at the numbers. three days until the gala. Meaning if he bought the ticket now, he would be down to roughly $5,200 total with his system credit.
"Alright, alright….if you insist. geez. so much for just a ticket. Drake muttered as he forced himself to click the button that says purchase tickets on the website.
One minute later, he received a confirmation email with the tickets QR cord on it. He was now the proud owner of one general admission ticket to the Apex Elite Gala.
Which made him absolutely terrified