Chapter 8: Marian's home.
A thousand dollars. For giving a scared girl, a pep talk and scaring her straight with a bad mafia impression. The absurdity of the exchange was almost as staggering as the sum. This wasn't some lottery win. But a payment. For completing a mission.
It was at this moment, staring at the undeniable proof on my glowing screen, that my mind finally made the connection it had been avoiding all day.
I recalled all the other pop-ups, the silent parade of potential targets I'd seen through the store window and on the street.
Marian, Allison Moon, the others. Each one had been a… what? An opportunity? A quest marker? To think that all of those floating panels, all day long, weren't just eerie diagnostics or a mental breakdown, but potential bonuses.
Potential paydays. The world seemed to tip on its axis, reality reconfiguring itself around this new, insane principle.
*******
Meanwhile, outside the store, a few blocks away in a part of the city where the streetlights were designer and the sidewalks were always impeccably clean, Marian finally reached her destination. Her hurried walk had slowed to a brisk, jolly stride, the nervous energy from the store replaced by a bubbling, unfamiliar excitement.
Unlike what I, or anyone who saw her in that oversized hoodie and frazzled braids might have expected, she didn't turn into a crowded apartment complex or a quiet suburban house. Instead, her path led her directly to the gleaming, art-deco facade of The Pendleton, one of the city's most stunning and exclusive high-rise apartment buildings.
The building was a monument of chrome and illuminated glass, towering over the boutique shops and high-end galleries that surrounded it.
As she approached the grand, brass-trimmed revolving door, a valet in an immaculate burgundy uniform and cap, who had been standing attentively by the curb, spotted her. His professional expression instantly softened into genuine, familiar warmth.
"Ahh, Miss Kim! Back so soon?" he said, promptly taking off his hat and offering a slight, respectful bow that was more avuncular than subservient.
Marian nodded, the bright, relieved smile still playing on her lips. "Just a short walk, Martin."
"Well, aren't you in a wonderfully improved mood this evening," the valet, Martin, chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He'd seen this young lady come and go for months when heading to school, often looking pensive, sometimes stressed, usually buried in a book or her phone. This light, almost effervescent air was new.
"Something special happen on your little outing?"
"Special?" Marian paused, her hand on the cool brass of the door frame. Her gaze turned distant for a second, looking past the bustling street, back in the general direction of the convenience store.
The edges of her lips, unconsciously, curled upwards again into a softer, more private smile. At the same moment, in a layer of perception visible only to a specific, confused clerk across town, the data panel that had once floated above her head shimmered and updated subtly, the text refining itself as if in response to her changed state.
[TARGET: Marian Kim]
Age: 18
Status: College student.
Psychology State: Happy, Excited.
Note: No available missions at the moment.
The "Nervous, Pressured" was gone, replaced by new positive replacements. The mission, for her, was indeed complete.
"It's… nothing," she said to Martin, finally shaking her head, but the smile remained, stubborn and real, refusing to be dismissed.
The encounter in the dingy convenience store felt like a secret, or should she say, a strange, personal story that belonged only to her and the oddly intense clerk who had turned her panic into a strange feeling she couldn't quite describe.
"I see," Martin chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes. He was too professional to pry, but he'd been in hospitality long enough to recognize the glow of a pleasant unexpected encounter. "Well, I'm sure you must be in a hurry. Don't let me keep you."
"Thank you, Martin," Marian said, her voice warm. She pushed through the revolving door, leaving the humid evening behind.
Inside, the highrise building was a world of hushed grandeur. Vast marble floors stretched under the light of intricate crystal chandeliers.
Plush, silent seating areas were arranged around modern sculptures. The air smelled of expensive perfume and polished wood. It was a scene of luxurious calm, far more grand than anything most people could imagine walking into after buying gum and a sad banana.
Yet Marian seemed utterly unfazed by the opulent scenery. It was just the lobby. She moved through it with the unthinking ease of long habit, her sneakers making soft, almost soundless squeaks on the marble. She didn't pause to admire the giant floral arrangement or glance at the well-dressed guests sipping cocktails; she made a beeline for the bank of elevators discreetly tucked behind a carved wooden screen.
She pressed the call button, and a moment later, a door whispered open with a soft, golden light. She stepped inside the empty, mirror-paneled car, the door sighing shut behind her, enclosing her in sudden, profound quiet.
Only then, in the private, ascending box, did she let out the long, slow sigh of relief she'd been holding onto since she left the store. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes for a second.
The image of the clerk's face, first terrifying, then stern, then finally kind and smiling, flashed in her mind.
Recalling how he, someone besides her family, or the apartment staff, complimented her. Her smile became even more potent.
As the elevator climbed smoothly toward the upper floors, a new kind of resolve, warm and solid, settled in her chest.
It was a much better feeling than the cold, shaky anxiety of the fake ID. She couldn't wait to tell her mother how her day went, though with the thought of leaving out the part of trying to commit an offense.
And maybe, just maybe, she'd start looking forward to college than trying to reconnect with her formal classmates. After all, she had technical skills.
Maybe he was right and she'd be able to make new friends like he said.