The next morning, the sun peeked through the tattered curtains of Ryan's rental, casting thin golden streaks across the dusty floor. Unlike the previous days, Ryan didn't wake up to the weight of despair—instead, he jumped out of bed with a burst of energy, his mind already racing with plans for the day.
First on the list: a new phone. His old smartphone, with its cracked screen and dying battery, had served him well for four years, but now that he had the Ultimate Cashback System, it was time to upgrade. No more struggling with laggy apps or fearing the battery die mid-transaction.
Ryan washed up quickly, put on his cleanest (though still cheap) clothes, and stepped out of the rental. Mrs. Higgins was watering the potted plants by her door, and when she saw him, she immediately put down the watering can and broke into a sycophantic smile.
"Good morning, Ryan! Off to run errands?" she asked, her voice sickeningly sweet. Gone was the arrogance and contempt from the day before—now she looked at Ryan like he was a walking ATM.
"Yeah," Ryan replied flatly, not stopping to chat. He had no interest in wasting time on her.
Mrs. Higgins didn't mind his coldness. She just watched him leave, rubbing her hands together greedily. A year's rent in advance meant she didn't have to worry about this unit being empty for a while, and if Ryan really was rich now, maybe she could squeeze more money out of him later.
Ryan walked to the main road and hailed a taxi. In the past, he would have walked or taken the bus to save every penny, but now, he didn't care about the $15 fare. Spending money was just a way to make more money, after all.
"Where to, sir?" the taxi driver asked, glancing at Ryan in the rearview mirror. He'd picked up plenty of people from the slums, but few had the calm, confident aura Ryan exuded now.
"The Central Mall, please. The electronics section on the third floor," Ryan said.
The driver raised an eyebrow but didn't ask questions. Central Mall was the fanciest shopping center in the city—full of luxury brands and high-end electronics. People from the slums rarely stepped foot there, let alone to buy something on the third floor, where the latest smartphones and laptops were sold.
Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled up in front of Central Mall. Ryan paid the fare with his phone, watching as the $15 was deducted from his account—then smiled as the system's prompt sounded in his head:
"Ding! Host spent $15 on taxi fare. 100% cashback triggered. $15 credited to your bank card. Please check!"
His balance was now $6159.50, unchanged from last night. The beauty of the cashback system—every daily expense was free. He stepped out of the taxi and walked into the mall, his head held high.
The mall's interior was bright and spacious, with marble floors and elegant chandeliers. Shoppers walked around in expensive clothes, carrying shopping bags from luxury brands. In the past, Ryan would have felt out of place, shrinking into himself to avoid attention. But now, he strode through the crowd with ease, ignoring the occasional curious glances.
He took the escalator to the third floor and headed straight for the smartphone store. The store was sleek and modern, with glass display cases showcasing the latest models from Apple, Samsung, and other top brands. A salesperson in a neat uniform approached him, her smile professional but slightly perfunctory—Ryan's casual clothes didn't exactly scream "big spender."
"Can I help you find something, sir?" she asked.
"I want the latest iPhone Pro Max, the 1TB version. And a pair of the newest AirPods Pro. Also, get me a high-quality case and screen protector," Ryan said without hesitation. He'd checked the prices online last night—this combo would cost over $2500.
The salesperson's eyes widened. She'd underestimated this guy. She straightened up, her smile becoming much warmer and more enthusiastic. "Absolutely, sir! Right this way. The iPhone Pro Max 1TB is our bestseller—we have it in all colors: black, silver, gold, and purple."
"Purple, please," Ryan said.
The salesperson quickly fetched the phone and the other items, laying them out on the counter. "Let me show you the features, sir. This model has a 6.7-inch Super Retina XDR display, the A17 Pro chip, and a 48-megapixel camera system—perfect for photos and videos."
Ryan nodded, but he wasn't particularly interested in the features. He just wanted to get the phone, activate it, and move on to his next plan. "I'll take all of it. Ring it up."
"Certainly, sir!" The salesperson quickly scanned the items. "The total is $2699. Would you like to pay by cash, credit card, or mobile payment?"
"Mobile payment," Ryan said, pulling out his old phone to open the payment app.
The salesperson's smile faltered for a second when she saw the cracked screen, but she quickly recovered. She gave Ryan the payment code, and he scanned it, entering the amount.
As soon as he tapped "Pay," the system's prompt sounded:
"Ding! Host spent $2699 on electronic products. 100% cashback triggered. $2699 credited to your bank card. Please check!"
His balance was now $6159.50 + $2699 = $8858.50. He'd just gotten over $2600 worth of electronics for free, and his money had actually increased. The salesperson handed him the new phone, AirPods, and accessories, packed in a stylish bag.
"Thank you for your purchase, sir! If you have any questions or need any assistance with setup, feel free to come back anytime. We also offer a one-year warranty and free screen replacement for the first six months," she said, handing him a business card.
"Thanks," Ryan said, taking the bag and the business card. He walked out of the store, already unboxing the new phone. He turned it on, and within minutes, he'd transferred his data from the old phone to the new one. The smooth, responsive screen and crisp display made him grin—this was a world away from his old, laggy device.
With his new phone in hand, Ryan felt even more confident. Next on his list: settling the score with Mr. Carter, the fast-food boss who'd stolen his final paycheck. He'd thought about it all night—he wasn't just going to ask for his money back. He was going to make Carter regret messing with him.
He checked the time—it was 10 AM, which was peak hour for the fast-food restaurant. Perfect. He hailed another taxi and told the driver to take him to Burger Haven, the restaurant where he'd worked.
Ten minutes later, the taxi arrived at Burger Haven. The restaurant was packed with customers, the smell of fries and burgers wafting through the air. Ryan got out of the taxi, paid the fare (and got instant cashback), and walked into the restaurant.
The manager on duty, a guy named Jake who'd always been rude to Ryan, noticed him and frowned. "Hey, you! What are you doing here? You're fired—get out!"
Ryan ignored him and walked straight to the back office. He could hear Mr. Carter's loud voice inside, yelling at a new employee for making a mistake with an order.
He pushed open the office door without knocking. Mr. Carter, a portly man with a red face, turned around, his eyes narrowing when he saw Ryan.
"Ryan? What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay away from my restaurant!" Carter roared, slamming his fist on the desk.
"I'm here to get my paycheck," Ryan said calmly. "You owe me $480—four days of work, 12 hours a day, $10 an hour."
"Paycheck? You spilled soda on a customer's expensive suit! That cost me $500 to dry clean! You're lucky I didn't sue you—you owe me money, not the other way around!" Carter sneered, leaning back in his chair.
"Bullshit," Ryan said coldly. "The customer's suit wasn't even that expensive—maybe $200 at most. You just stole my paycheck because you thought I was weak and wouldn't fight back."
Carter's face turned red with anger. "Get out of my office right now, or I'll call the cops!"
"Call them," Ryan said, pulling out his new iPhone and placing it on the desk. "I'd love to tell them how you shortchange your employees, steal their paychecks, and violate labor laws by making them work 12 hours a day without overtime pay."
Carter's eyes flicked to the new phone, then back to Ryan. He suddenly realized that Ryan looked different—more confident, more dangerous. But he wasn't about to back down. "You think anyone will believe a deadbeat like you? Get out!"
Ryan smiled. He pulled out his phone and opened the mobile banking app. He tapped on the transfer function, then looked up at Carter. "What's your bank account number?"
Carter frowned. "Why do you want my account number? You gonna beg me for money?"
"I'm gonna give you $10,000," Ryan said casually. "To buy your restaurant."
Carter burst out laughing. "Buy my restaurant? Are you insane? This place makes $5,000 a month in profit! It's worth at least $100,000! You think $10,000 can buy it?"
"It's not a negotiation," Ryan said. "Either you take the $10,000 and sign the restaurant over to me today, or I'll report you to the labor department and the tax office. I'm sure they'll be very interested in your under-the-table payments and tax evasion. You'll lose everything—your restaurant, your savings, maybe even go to jail."
Carter's laugh died in his throat. He stared at Ryan, trying to figure out if he was bluffing. But Ryan's expression was dead serious, and there was something in his eyes that made Carter nervous. He knew he was breaking the law—he paid his employees under the table to avoid taxes, and he often shortchanged them on hours and pay. If Ryan really reported him, he could lose everything.
But $10,000 was way too little. "That's not enough," Carter said through gritted teeth. "I need at least $50,000."
"$15,000," Ryan said, not budging. "Take it or leave it. I can walk out of here right now and make a call, and you'll have nothing in an hour."
Carter hesitated. He looked at Ryan's new phone, at his confident demeanor, and realized that Ryan wasn't the same poor, helpless kid he'd fired a week ago. He must have come into some money—maybe he'd won the lottery, or inherited a fortune. Carter didn't want to risk everything for a restaurant that, while profitable, was more trouble than it was worth.
"Fine," he said finally. "$15,000. But you have to transfer the money first, and I need a written agreement that you won't report me to anyone."
"Deal," Ryan said. He took out his phone and asked for Carter's account number. Carter gave it to him, and Ryan transferred $15,000 instantly. Within seconds, Carter's phone pinged with a notification. He checked it, and his eyes widened when he saw the $15,000 in his account.
The system's prompt sounded in Ryan's head:
"Ding! Host spent $15,000 on business acquisition. 200% cashback triggered (cumulative spending has reached $10,000, cashback rate upgraded to 200%). $30,000 credited to your bank card. Please check!"
Ryan's balance was now $8858.50 - $15,000 + $30,000 = $23,858.50. He'd just bought a restaurant for $15,000 and made a profit of $15,000 in the process. Not bad.
Carter printed out a simple agreement, signing it and handing it to Ryan. "There. The restaurant's yours now. I'll tell the employees later today."
"Good," Ryan said, taking the agreement. "And one more thing—give me the $480 you owe me. It's the principle of the thing."
Carter gritted his teeth, but he didn't argue. He pulled out $480 in cash from his desk and handed it to Ryan. "Happy now?"
"Very," Ryan said, putting the cash in his pocket. He turned around and walked out of the office, leaving Carter sitting at his desk, seething with anger and regret.
When Ryan walked out of the back office, the manager Jake approached him again, looking angry. "I told you to get out! What are you still doing here?"
"I own this restaurant now," Ryan said, holding up the agreement. "You're fired. Pack your things and leave."
Jake's mouth dropped open. "You… you own the restaurant? That's impossible!"
"Check with Mr. Carter if you don't believe me," Ryan said. He turned to the other employees, who were all staring at him in shock. "As for the rest of you—your pay will be increased by $5 an hour, and you'll get overtime pay for any hours over 8 a day. Anyone who wants to stay can stay. Those who don't can leave, and I'll give you a month's pay as severance."
The employees' eyes widened. A $5 raise? Overtime pay? Severance if they left? That was way better than working for Carter. They all started nodding, saying they wanted to stay.
"Good," Ryan said. "Get back to work. I'll be back later with a new manager."
He walked out of the restaurant, feeling a sense of satisfaction. He'd gotten his revenge on Carter and Jake, and he'd even helped the other employees. It felt good to be in control.
It was almost noon, and Ryan's stomach was growling. He decided to go back to the high-end restaurant from last night—Sophia's family restaurant. He'd enjoyed the food, and he was curious about the beautiful woman he'd met there.
He hailed a taxi and headed to the restaurant. When he arrived, the restaurant was busy, but there was still a table by the window—his table from last night. He walked over and sat down, and the same waiter from last night approached him, looking surprised.
"Sir! Welcome back! Can I get you the same order as last night?" he asked, grinning.
"Not today," Ryan said, smiling. "I'll have the lobster bisque to start, then the filet mignon, medium rare. And a glass of your best white wine."
"Absolutely, sir!" the waiter said, taking his order and walking away.
Ryan looked around the restaurant, and his eyes quickly found Sophia. She was sitting at a table near the bar, working on a laptop. She looked even more beautiful in the daylight, with the sun shining on her golden hair.
Sophia looked up and noticed Ryan, and she smiled and waved at him. Ryan waved back, and she closed her laptop and walked over to his table.
"Back for more?" she asked, sitting down across from him.
"The food was too good to resist," Ryan said. "I'm Ryan, by the way."
"Sophia," she said, holding out her hand. "This is my family's restaurant. I noticed you ordered a lot last night—you must really like fine dining."
"I'm just starting to appreciate it," Ryan said, shaking her hand. Her hand was soft and warm. "I used to not be able to afford places like this."
"Really?" Sophia said, raising an eyebrow. "You don't look like someone who's struggled with money."
"Looks can be deceiving," Ryan said. He didn't want to tell her about the system, so he changed the subject. "How long has your family owned this restaurant?"
"Thirty years," Sophia said. "My grandfather started it, then my father took over. I'm studying business management, so I'll take over one day."
They talked for a while, and Ryan found himself enjoying Sophia's company. She was smart, funny, and down-to-earth—not at all stuck-up like he'd expected a rich girl to be. He told her about buying Burger Haven, and she was impressed by his ambition.
Just as their conversation was getting interesting, Ryan's new phone buzzed. He picked it up and saw a text message from an unknown number:
"Enjoying your new life, Ryan? That $15,000 you spent on the restaurant is just the beginning. But be careful—easy money comes with easy danger. I know about your little secret. If you don't want it to get out, meet me at the old warehouse by the docks at 9 PM tonight. Come alone. Don't tell anyone. Or else."
Ryan's smile faded. He stared at the text message, his heart sinking. Who was this? How did they know about the system? He looked up at Sophia, who noticed his sudden change in mood.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, concerned.
"Yeah, fine," Ryan said, putting his phone away and forcing a smile. "Just a work thing."
But he wasn't fine. He knew whoever sent that text was serious. They knew about his secret—the Ultimate Cashback System. If that secret got out, he'd be targeted by countless people, maybe even governments. He had to go to the meeting.
His meal arrived, but Ryan didn't have much of an appetite. He ate quickly, and after paying the bill (and getting 150% cashback, thanks to the designated area bonus), he said goodbye to Sophia.
"I'll come back soon," he said.
"I'll be here," Sophia said, smiling. But her smile didn't reach her eyes—she could tell something was wrong.
Ryan walked out of the restaurant, the text message weighing on his mind. He hailed a taxi and headed back to his rental, but he didn't go inside. Instead, he stood across the street, watching the building. He wanted to see if anyone was following him.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, the same black car from last night drove by and parked a few meters away. The bald neighbor was sitting in the driver's seat, staring at Ryan's rental. So he was the one who'd been following him.
But had he sent the text message? Ryan wasn't sure. The bald guy looked like a small-time thug, not someone who could figure out about the system. Maybe he was working for someone else.
Ryan decided to confront him. He walked over to the black car and tapped on the window. The bald guy jumped, then rolled down the window, looking nervous.
"What are you doing here?" Ryan asked coldly.
"N-Nothing," the bald guy stammered. "Just waiting for a friend."
"Bullshit," Ryan said. "You've been following me since last night. Why?"
The bald guy's face turned pale. "I… I just wanted to ask you for a loan. I saw you had money, and I'm in a tight spot."
Ryan didn't believe him, but he didn't have time to press him. He had to prepare for the meeting at the warehouse. "Get out of here. If I see you following me again, I'll call the cops."
The bald guy nodded frantically, then drove away as fast as he could.
Ryan walked back to his rental, his mind racing. He didn't know who was behind the text message, or what they wanted. But he knew he had to be ready. He checked his bank balance—$23,858.50 plus the cashback from lunch, which was $420, making it $24,278.50. He decided to use some of this money to buy something to protect himself.
He went online and ordered a high-quality tactical knife and a portable stun gun, paying with his phone (and getting instant cashback). The items would be delivered in a few hours, just in time for the meeting.
As the day turned to night, Ryan waited anxiously in his rental. He checked his phone repeatedly, but no more messages came. At 8:30 PM, he put on his jacket, grabbed the tactical knife and stun gun (which had just been delivered), and headed out.
The old warehouse by the docks was a desolate place, surrounded by abandoned buildings and overgrown weeds. The only light came from the moon and a few streetlights that were flickering on and off.
Ryan walked up to the warehouse door, his hand on the stun gun in his pocket. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Inside the warehouse, it was dark and quiet. The only sound was the wind blowing through the broken windows. Ryan turned on the flashlight on his phone, scanning the area.
"Hello?" he called out. "I'm here. Where are you?"
No answer. Ryan walked further into the warehouse, his heart pounding. Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him—a footstep. He spun around, pointing the flashlight at the sound.
But there was no one there. Just shadows.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Ryan said, his voice echoing through the warehouse.
Just as he finished speaking, the lights suddenly turned on, blinding him. He squinted, trying to see through the brightness. When his eyes adjusted, he saw a group of men standing in front of him—at least ten of them, all wearing black clothes and masks. One of them stepped forward, holding a gun.
"Welcome, Ryan," the man said, his voice distorted by a voice changer. "We've been waiting for you."
Ryan's blood ran cold. He'd walked into a trap. He reached for the stun gun in his pocket, but before he could grab it, one of the masked men lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. The tactical knife fell out of his hand, clattering across the floor.
"What do you want?" Ryan asked, struggling to break free.
"We want your secret," the man with the gun said. "The thing that's making you rich so fast. Tell us, and we'll let you live. If not… well, let's just say the docks are a good place to dispose of bodies."
Ryan's mind raced. He had to get out of here. But with ten masked men and a gun pointed at him, how? He looked around, searching for an escape route. But the warehouse was surrounded by the men, and the only door was behind them.
Just as he was about to give up hope, he heard a loud crash from the other side of the warehouse. The masked men all turned around, startled. Ryan took the opportunity to push the man on top of him off, jumping to his feet.
He looked towards the sound, and his eyes widened. A group of people had broken through the wall, led by a woman with long golden hair—Sophia.
"Get away from him!" Sophia shouted, holding a baseball bat in her hand. Behind her were several of the restaurant's waiters and chefs, all holding various kitchen utensils—frying pans, knives, rolling pins.
The masked men looked confused. "Who the hell are you?" the man with the gun said.
"His friend," Sophia said. "And you're trespassing on private property. This warehouse belongs to my family."
Ryan couldn't believe it. Sophia had followed him? And she'd brought backup? He felt a surge of gratitude, but also worry—she was putting herself in danger for him.
"This doesn't concern you, lady," the man with the gun said, pointing the gun at Sophia. "Get out of here, or I'll shoot."
Sophia didn't back down. "Put the gun down. The police are on their way—we called them when we saw you bring Ryan in here."
The man with the gun hesitated. He didn't know if Sophia was telling the truth, but he didn't want to risk getting caught by the police. He looked at the other masked men, then back at Ryan.
"We'll be back," he said, before turning around and running out of the warehouse. The other masked men followed him, disappearing into the night.
Ryan let out a long breath, his legs shaking. He walked over to Sophia, who was still holding the baseball bat.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, his voice shaky. "You could have gotten hurt."
"I saw you were upset earlier, and I followed you to make sure you were okay," Sophia said, putting down the bat. "When I saw you go into this warehouse with those men, I knew something was wrong. I called the waiters and chefs, and we came to help."
Ryan smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest. He'd never had anyone care about him like this before. "Thank you. You saved my life."
"Don't mention it," Sophia said, smiling. "But you owe me a meal. A really good one."
Just as they were about to leave, Ryan noticed something on the floor— a small, silver pendant that one of the masked men had dropped. He picked it up, examining it. It was shaped like a snake, with red eyes made of gemstones. He'd never seen anything like it before.
"What is that?" Sophia asked, looking at the pendant.
"I don't know," Ryan said. "But I think it belongs to one of the men. And I think they're not done with me yet."
He put the pendant in his pocket, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new problem. Who were those masked men? What did they want with his system? And what was the meaning of the snake pendant?
As they walked out of the warehouse, the sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance. Ryan looked at Sophia, then at the pendant in his pocket. He knew his life was never going to be the same again—but this time, he wasn't alone.