The morning sun was too bright. For Ethan, it felt like an uninvited guest, mocking the dark cloud of debt that hung over his head. He had barely slept, his mind a chaotic loop of numbers: 850, 70, 3 days. The math of survival was a relentless machine, and Ethan felt like he was being crushed between its gears.
He walked to the "Golden Corner" with his shoulders hunched, his eyes fixed on the pavement. Even the Skin Texture and the extra Confidence point felt hollow today. What use was a clear face if you were sleeping on a park bench?
When he pushed open the glass door, the chime felt like a funeral bell.
"Good morning, sunshine! Or... good morning, thundercloud?"
Maya was behind the counter, her hair tied in a messy, energetic bun. She was vibrant, her eyes sparkling as she wiped down the coffee machine. But as she looked at Ethan, her smile faltered. She didn't just see him; she noticed him.
"Ethan? You look like you've been fighting ghosts all night," she said, her voice dropping its playful tone. She stepped out from behind the counter, her hand hesitating in the air before she gently touched his arm. "What's wrong? Did something happen after you left yesterday?"
Ethan tried to offer a dismissive shrug, but his resolve was paper-thin. He leaned against a rack of chips, the plastic crinkling under his weight. "It's nothing, Maya. Just... reality catching up. The landlord met me at the door. I have three days to find $850 or I'm out."
Maya's eyes widened. "Eight hundred and fifty? In three days? That's insane! Nobody can find that kind of money that fast."
"I know," Ethan whispered, staring at his scuffed shoes. "I thought the... I thought I could find a way. But I'm short. A lot short."
Suddenly, a loud, static-filled crackle erupted from the ceiling.
"THORNE! MY OFFICE. NOW."
The megaphone's voice was like a physical blow. It was Mr. Vance, his voice booming through the store's intercom system. Maya jumped, clutching her chest.
"Oh god, he's been watching the cameras again," she muttered, looking up at the black dome in the corner. "Go, Ethan. He's grumpier than usual today, but... just listen."
Ethan felt a new wave of dread. Was he being fired on his second day? Was his "misery" bad for business? He walked to the back, his heart hammering against his ribs. He knocked on the heavy wooden door of the office.
"Enter," Vance's voice grunted.
Ethan stepped inside. The office was thick with the smell of old paper and strong espresso. Mr. Vance was sitting back in his chair, staring at a monitor that showed a grid of security angles. He didn't look up for a long time.
"I don't like beggars, Ethan," Vance said finally, his voice low and gravelly. "And I don't like employees who bring their domestic tragedies to my front counter."
Ethan opened his mouth to apologize, but Vance held up a calloused hand.
"However," Vance continued, turning his chair to face him. "I wasn't always a man with a desk and a daughter. Forty years ago, I didn't have a 'Golden Corner'. I had a cardboard box behind a warehouse in the docks. I spent two winters listening to the rats and wondering if the frost would take my toes."
He leaned forward, his eyes sharp and surprisingly human. "I know that look in your eyes. It's the look of a man who's waiting for the floor to vanish. And I know your landlord. Henderson is a miserable old vulture, but he's an honest one. He and I... we used to drink at the same pub back when we both had nothing."
Ethan blinked, stunned. "You know Mr. Henderson?"
"Know him? I saved his skin in a bar fight in '92," Vance grunted, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. He reached for the desk phone, his thick fingers dialing a number from memory.
The conversation was short and blunt. "Artie? It's Vance. Yeah. Look, that kid in 4B, Thorne... he's working for me now. He's a good kid. Quiet. Reliable. Give him two weeks. I'll vouch for the arrears. If he doesn't pay by the 20th, I'll personally help you throw his bed out the window. Yeah. Fine. Give my best to the wife."
Vance slammed the phone down and looked at Ethan. "You have fourteen days. Not three. Don't make me a liar, Thorne. I don't like being a liar."
Ethan felt the air rush back into his lungs. The suffocating knot in his chest loosened, replaced by a surge of gratitude so strong it made his eyes sting. "Mr. Vance... I don't know what to say. Thank you. I'll work every shift. I won't let you down."
"Get back to the floor," Vance growled, though his tone was less sharp. "And tell my daughter to stop hovering outside the door like a ghost."
Ethan walked out, his legs feeling lighter than they had in years. Maya was indeed standing right outside, her hands clenched. When she saw Ethan's face, she let out a breath she'd been holding.
"He called him, didn't he?" she asked, a wide, triumphant smile spreading across her face.
"He gave me two weeks," Ethan said, still barely believing it.
Maya let out a small squeal of joy and, in a sudden burst of emotion, grabbed Ethan's hands and jumped slightly. "I knew it! He acts like a stone, but he's a marshmallow for a good story. We're going to get you that money, Ethan. Between the shifts and... we'll figure it out!"
They stood there in the middle of the aisle, their hands joined for a second too long, laughing quietly under the watchful eye of the security camera.
[ System Notification ]
Affinity with Maya Vance: +3
Affinity with Mr. Vance (Hidden): +5
Status Change: From 'Desperate' to 'Indebted'.
New Quest: The Honest Laborer
Objective: Earn the $850 through work and bonuses.
Reward: Unlock 'Financial Management' Skill.
Ethan looked at Maya, her face glowing with genuine happiness for him. He realized then that the "Romantic System" wasn't just giving him points; it was giving him a family. He wasn't alone in the dark anymore.
The two weeks ahead were still a mountain to climb, but for the first time, Ethan Thorne felt like he had the boots to do it.