Ren didn't open the new phone immediately.
He waited until he got home.
The walk back felt… different.
Not dramatically. The same streets, the same people, the same noise of the city moving without pause—but there was a quiet shift in how he experienced it. His pace was a little more relaxed, his shoulders less tense, his thoughts more focused.
Not scattered.
Not stuck.
Just… moving.
When he reached his apartment, he set the bag down on his desk and stood there for a moment, looking at it.
A simple purchase.
That's all it should have been.
And yet, it wasn't.
Ren sat down slowly and opened the box, carefully peeling back the packaging. The device inside was exactly what he had expected—clean, precise, designed to feel premium the moment you held it.
He picked it up, turning it slightly in his hand.
It felt lighter than the weight it used to carry in his mind.
Normally, something like this would come with a mix of excitement and guilt.
A voice reminding him:
Was this really necessary?
Couldn't you have used that money better?
This time—
That voice was gone.
Ren paused, noticing the absence.
Then slowly, he powered the phone on.
The screen lit up, smooth and responsive, the interface clean and fast. He went through the setup process without rushing, transferring data, logging into accounts, adjusting settings.
It was simple.
Effortless.
By the time he finished, nearly twenty minutes had passed.
Ren leaned back slightly, holding the new phone in his hand, his gaze drifting toward his old one resting on the desk.
For a brief moment, he compared the two—not just in performance or appearance, but in what they represented.
Before, upgrading meant planning.
Saving.
Waiting.
Now—
It meant deciding.
Ren lowered his gaze to the new screen again, unlocking it with a smooth motion.
No hesitation.
No second thought.
His phone vibrated.
Ren's expression shifted slightly as he looked down.
[Transaction Logged]
A short pause.
Then another line appeared.
[Usage Pattern Detected]
Ren frowned.
"…Usage pattern?"
The message stayed on the screen for a moment longer before fading.
No explanation.
No follow-up.
Just another piece of information, given without context.
Ren stared at the blank screen afterward, his fingers resting lightly against the device.
That feeling returned.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
Awareness.
Something was observing.
Not actively interfering.
Not yet.
But watching.
Ren exhaled slowly and placed the phone down.
"…Fine."
If it had rules—
He would figure them out.
The next few days passed quietly.
At first, nothing changed.
At least, nothing obvious.
Ren went to work as usual, arriving on time, teaching his classes, going through the same routine he had followed for months.
From the outside, everything looked the same.
But internally—
There was a difference.
Small decisions began to shift.
Instead of skipping meals or choosing the cheapest option, he picked what he actually felt like eating. Instead of walking past places he used to ignore, he occasionally stepped inside.
A better lunch.
A slightly more comfortable café.
A small convenience here.
Another there.
Nothing excessive.
Nothing reckless.
But consistent.
Each time, the same result.
The deduction was minimal.
Almost negligible.
Ren didn't rush into anything big again.
Not yet.
But the repetition was enough.
The system worked.
That certainty settled in slowly, reinforcing itself with every transaction.
By the third day, something else changed.
Ren stopped checking his balance as often.
Not because he didn't care.
But because—
He already knew the outcome.
That was new.
During lunch break, he sat with his coworkers as usual, though the interaction felt slightly different this time.
Daiki Moriyama was the loudest, as always.
"You seriously still using that old phone before?" he said, leaning over the table with exaggerated disbelief. "No wonder you looked like you were stuck in 2015."
Ren glanced at him briefly.
"…It worked fine."
Daiki laughed. "Yeah, yeah, until it doesn't. So? Finally upgraded?"
Ren nodded slightly, placing his new phone on the table.
The reaction was immediate.
"Whoa—wait, that's the latest one, isn't it?" Daiki leaned in closer, eyes widening. "That thing's expensive."
Ryohei Sakamoto, sitting beside him, glanced over as well, his expression calm but observant.
"…Didn't think you were the type to spend that much."
Ren shrugged lightly.
"…Just felt like it."
The words came out naturally.
Too naturally.
For a brief moment, even he noticed it.
That wasn't how he usually answered.
Across the table, Haruto Kanzaki leaned back slightly, his gaze resting on Ren just a second longer than the others.
Not impressed.
Not surprised.
Just… thinking.
"Feels like it, huh?" Haruto said casually, though there was a faint edge to his tone. "Must be nice."
Ren met his gaze briefly, then looked away.
"…Yeah."
The conversation shifted quickly after that, moving to something else, something less focused on him.
But the moment lingered.
Not because of what was said.
But because of how it felt.
For the first time, Ren wasn't the one on the outside looking in.
And that—
Was strangely satisfying.
That evening, as he walked home, his steps felt lighter again.
Not exaggerated.
Not dramatic.
Just… easier.
His phone vibrated.
Ren glanced down at the screen.
[Spending Efficiency Increased]
His brows furrowed slightly.
"…Increased?"
Before he could think further—
Another line appeared.
[Daily Limit: ¥200,000]
Ren stopped walking.
The city continued around him, but for a moment, everything felt distant.
"…Limit."
So there it was.
The first clear rule.
Ren stared at the screen, his expression slowly shifting—not into surprise, but into something more focused.
Understanding.
This wasn't unlimited.
It was controlled.
Structured.
Which meant—
It could be managed.
Ren slipped his phone back into his pocket, his thoughts already moving ahead.
If there was a limit—
Then the question wasn't whether to use it.
It was how to use it.
[End of Chapter 5]