I was sprawled on the sofa, lazily sipping water, when Kyle suddenly emerged from the kitchen like a confused golden retriever discovering taxes for the first time.
"Alice… did you buy all these items?"
He pointed at the mountain of supplies piled near the counter.
"Yes," I answered casually, like I hadn't just committed economic warfare.
His eyes widened. "Why? This is too much. It looks like you bought the whole shop."
"I did."
One sip. Zero guilt.
Kyle blinked. "You're joking, right? We can't buy a shop."
"But I can." I tilted my head, watching his confusion multiply like bacteria.
"H-how? Why would you buy a shop?"
"I stopped the store function," I said, shrugging, "then bought the entire building. Simple."
Kyle stared at me like I'd just rewritten the laws of physics. "You really bought a shop…? That's not even supposed to be possible. You're… you're a genius."
"I know."
Of course I know. Compliments accepted.
"I want to see which shop you bought."
"Then come."
---
After we got ready, we stepped outside. Kyle followed behind me, still muttering things like "How did she—?" and "What even is the rules anymore—?"
When we reached the shop, I noticed something immediately:
No blue glow.
Perfect.
"This is the one I bought," I told him. "And tell me—can you see the blue glow on the items?"
Kyle nodded. "Yes. Why are you asking?"
"So only I can't see it," I said, feeling a satisfied little spark in my chest. "Which means I don't have to buy items anymore. I can take anything for free. Everyone else still has to pay."
Kyle breathed out. "That's… really nice."
Nice?
It was game-breaking.
Deliciously unfair.
Exactly how I like it.
We stepped out of the shop. Kyle glanced around, scanning the street like a self-appointed security camera.
"I'm going scouting," he said. "Stay safe."
He turned to leave—
—but the universe clearly had drama scheduled for us today.
A group of men stepped out of the shade and blocked my path.
Kyle immediately returned to my side, jaw tightening.
Hmm. Reaction time: less than two seconds. Good. His situational awareness is improving.
The leader—tall, arrogant, the type who believed confidence compensated for lack of intelligence—smirked.
"So you're Alice… the girl with brain and beauty. I want to recruit you to my team."
"Join your team?" I laughed softly.
"No thanks. I don't work with people who think they're powerful just because no one's bothered to correct them also I don't follow others. Others follow me. Now if you got your answer I'm leaving I have important things to do and wasting my time on you isn't on my schedule."
I turned—
His hand snapped around my wrist.
"I didn't say you could go."
Touching me was his second mistake. Approaching me was the first.
Statistically, people with this attitude don't live long in this world.
Before I could even turn back, Kyle moved.
In one swift motion, he grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it, and slammed him onto the ground.
The leader let out a very satisfying, very high-pitched yelp.
Kyle's voice cut through the air.
"Don't touch her without her permission."
Efficient. Minimal words, maximum effect.
I knew keeping him around was a good investment.
The group froze. The leader, wheezing on the dirt, barked:
"You idiots! Attack him!"
They didn't move.
"I'll give you money! Attack him already!"
Predictable. Incentive-based loyalty—cheap, unstable, easy to dismantle.
No wonder he wants me; he can't control his own men.
Kyle didn't wait.
He stepped forward, movements sharp and calculated, like he'd been waiting all morning for someone stupid enough to try this.
A kick—one down.
A punch—second down.
A throw—third.
The last two dropped just by witnessing the first three.
In seconds, everyone but Kyle was on the ground, groaning.
Kyle stepped back behind me, calm again.
Yes. Definitely useful.
A reliable shield with good instincts and decent strength.
Having him around increases my survival probability by at least 23%—
and decreases annoying interruptions by 100%.
I stepped toward the leader, watching him struggle on the ground like a broken robot trying to reboot.
"You call yourself a leader," I said, my voice calm, almost gentle. "But you can't control your men, you can't protect yourself, and you certainly can't challenge me. If you're the strongest in your group… then your whole team is already dead. They just don't know it yet."
His face twitched—anger mixed with embarrassment.
I turned to leave, Kyle quietly matching my pace like a shadow.
But behind us, the leader spat bitterly,
"You'll regret this!"
I stopped.
Tilted my head slightly.
And looked back at him with the kind of smile that makes smarter people run.
"Regret?" I echoed. "If I ever feel regret in this world, trust me… it won't be over someone as forgettable as you."
I let the words sink in.
Then added,
"Next time you want to threaten someone, try picking a target you can survive."
And with that, I walked away—
leaving him and his crushed ego on the dirt.
The street was quieter than usual, the morning sun still stretching across the cracked pavement. I walked with my hands behind my back, when I heard footsteps hurry to match mine.
Kyle appeared at my side, breath slightly uneven.
"You know these people will cause trouble again," he said, voice low.
I didn't look at him. I didn't need to.
"I already planned how I'm going to handle them," I replied.
He blinked, a mix of surprise and resignation flickering across his face.
"Already? It's like you—" He stopped mid-sentence. "Here. Take this."
He held out a tiny metallic cube, barely the size of a dice. Before I could question it, he pressed it against my bracelet. The cube hummed softly, then fused with the metal like it had always belonged there.
"What is this?" I asked.
"It's a communication device," Kyle said, suddenly proud—like a child presenting a crayon masterpiece. "Its name is Infomi. We can talk through it. I also have one attached to mine. I bought them yesterday when I went scouting so… you can reach me anytime."
I tilted my wrist, examining the tiny glowing line now running along the bracelet. The design was simple but efficient.
"How much did these cost? You had only 100 coins, right?"
Kyle scratched his cheek sheepishly.
"Yeah… one costs 50 coins. So I bought two."
Then, quickly—"But it's useful, right?"
I nodded, allowing the faintest smile to touch my lips.
"Yes. It's useful. Good job."
Kyle straightened like someone had inflated him with pride.
"Oh—okay then! I'm going scouting now." His voice softened, serious for once.
"Inform me anytime you need me."
And then he jogged off down the street, turning back twice as if making sure I was still there… or maybe hoping for another compliment.
I watched him disappear behind a row of crumbling buildings, my fingers brushing the cube embedded in my bracelet.
Useful indeed.
And now… the real game could begin.
My bracelet buzzed—sharp and sudden.
A faint notification shimmered across the metal.
[ +10 Coins ]
I stopped walking.
"…Huh?"
I hadn't done anything. I hadn't even intimidated someone today.
How did I gain coins?
My mind spun through possibilities in a second:
• accidental reward?
• random system error?
• passive income?
• or—
My eyes widened a fraction as the most logical answer clicked.
"Maybe… because of the shop."
I changed direction instantly, heading straight for the place I had bought earlier. The wooden door creaked open as I pushed it, and—
There he was.
A thin man holding a bread from my shelf, blinking at me like I'd walked in on him stealing.
He wasn't.
He had actually bought it.
I glanced at the shelf, at the faint fading blue shimmer where the item had been.
The system had registered the sale.
Meaning—
If people buy from my shop, I earn the coins.
A slow smile pulled at my lips.
"It's good," I murmured to myself.
Very good.
When I stepped outside, a small crowd lingered along the wall—faces I recognized from this morning. Their clothes were worn, their eyes hungry,
People who couldn't buy food earlier.
Because they had spent everything on houses.
I watched them silently.
Not with sympathy—no. That emotion never came naturally to me.
But with calculation.
They needed food.
I needed influence.
A perfect transaction waiting to happen.
Some of them stared at me with that pleading, fragile look humans get when they're cornered. Others avoided my eyes, ashamed of their own poor planning.
Their hunger wasn't my responsibility.
But it was an opportunity.