My name is Kade.
And if the system is to be believed, today it is once again offering me money in exchange for ruining my life.
I woke up to a familiar, light pressure in my temples—not pain, just the feeling that someone had gently knocked from the inside. That meant only one thing: the daily task had appeared.
####################
SYSTEM — DAILY TASK
Skip work
Reward: $500
Status: Available
####################
I wasn't even surprised.
"Of course," I muttered, staring at the ceiling. "System, you're especially generous today."
Five hundred dollars for skipping work.
Funny.
If I skip work once, I get the money.
If I skip it twice, I get fired.
The system knows that perfectly well.
It always works like this.
It never offers "development."
It offers temptation.
A long time ago, I noticed the pattern: daily tasks almost never give you anything good. They don't make you stronger. They make you poorer in the long run—for a couple of quick bills right now.
The system never says, "Lose your job."
It says, "Take the money."
And then you ruin everything yourself.
I closed the window without even thinking about it.
Nothing new.
We live in a world where the system exists.
It gives tasks.
It records success and failure.
It develops skills—if you're willing to pay the price.
Sometimes you can grow on your own.
Sometimes through tasks.
Sometimes through arenas, bets, and other things no one officially talks about.
I'm eighteen.
It was my birthday yesterday.
I'm level three—just like everyone else who just finished school.
That's not low.
That's normal.
My family is poor.
My dad works construction whenever he can get hired.
My mom works as a kitchen assistant in a restaurant.
They're both level twenty.
That's the ceiling for an average person.
Their stats are around level twenty as well.
Nothing remarkable.
Enough to live a quiet life without risk and without rising above what's allowed.
I didn't celebrate my birthday yesterday.
Not because I didn't want to—but because there was nothing to celebrate with.
Everyone was working.
There was no money.
I didn't even have a single coin left.
So when I smelled food, at first I thought I was imagining it.
But the smell was real.
I got up and went to the kitchen.
My mom was standing by the stove.
Eggs with mushrooms were sizzling in the pan, and there was a fresh salad next to it.
My favorite breakfast.
I froze in the doorway.
"Good morning," she said, turning around and smiling. "Happy birthday… a little late."
I laughed.
"That's a luxury, Mom."
She sighed.
"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything yesterday. Your father and I…"
"I know," I interrupted. "It's okay. Really."
We sat down to eat.
I ate slowly, enjoying every bite. A breakfast like this was almost a celebration.
"When we save some money," Mom said, "you'll be able to go to college. I promise."
I nodded.
"It's fine. I've accepted it."
That wasn't a lie.
Just acceptance.
I got dressed, kissed her on the cheek, and left.
I work as a waiter in a restaurant.
The job is hard, but honest.
And I need it.
On the way, I still decided to ask the system:
"Any additional tasks for today?"
####################
SYSTEM RESPONSE
No additional tasks available.
Submit a stat request to receive a task.
####################
I slowed my steps.
Requests are always a risk.
Yes, if you complete the task, you get a bonus.
But if the task has an asterisk…
If you mess it up—your level drops.
And a level isn't just a number.
It's you.
I thought for a long time.
And still, I decided to try.
"Request. Intelligence."
####################
SYSTEM — STAT TASK
Read one magic book.
Reward:
Intelligence +1 Charisma +1 Secret Artifact
Failure:
Intelligence -2 Intelligence stat requests blocked for 10 days
####################
I stared at the text.
One book.
In one day.
I mentally calculated my schedule.
Work. Travel. Fatigue.
Even the thinnest magic book takes hours of focused reading.
And magic isn't a novel you skim before bed.
I clenched my teeth.
"Decline."
The window disappeared.
My chest felt heavy, like I'd just missed a chance…
but in reality, I just didn't want to risk it.
I worked my shift.
My legs ached.
My head felt empty.
With my last money, I bought a sandwich and water.
Went home.
No one was there.
I went to sleep.
And in the middle of the night, I woke up to sobbing.
My mom was shaking my shoulder.
"Kade… Kade, wake up… something's wrong with your father…"
I sat up, my heart pounding.
"What happened?"
She was crying.
"He… he bet his levels."
I didn't understand at first.
"What levels?"
"Strength… intelligence… everything he had… on illegal bets…"
Something inside me went cold.
"Illegal?" I blurted out. "But those are auctions. That's hacking."
"I know…" she whispered. "He found someone…"
"But level betting is forbidden," I said. "That's taking levels away. They don't give them back."
"I know…"
I jumped to my feet.
"We'll pay. We'll raise his level. We'll find someone."
She shook her head.
"You can't. You can't just add levels. To give, you have to take from someone else."
My hands started shaking.
"But those auctions exist!"
"Yes. They only know how to take," she said through tears. "They don't know how to create."
I clenched my fists.
"Then we'll win. We'll raise him to at least level ten. So he can work. So he won't…"
She hugged me.
There was a knock on the door.
I opened it.
Two police officers stood there.
One of them looked at his tablet and said in a flat voice:
"Your father has committed suicide. He jumped off a bridge."
The world became very quiet.