Aiden returned home with Emma fast asleep on his back, her face tucked against his shoulder, her warm breath brushing against his collar. Every step he took felt heavier—not because of her weight, but because of the responsibility settling deeper and deeper into his bones.
He placed her gently on the bed and pulled the thin blanket over her. She curled toward the warmth instinctively. For a long moment, Aiden simply stood there, staring at her small form.
A child shouldn't faint from hunger.
A child shouldn't worry about lying to fit in.
A child shouldn't have to survive like this.
"I'll fix everything," he whispered.
He meant it.
And for the first time in his life, he had the ability to do so.
But abilities alone weren't enough.
He needed direction.
He needed a plan.
He needed control.
He stepped into the living room, closed the door behind him, and opened the notebook he'd filled with calculations earlier. His mind—enhanced by Emma's accidental claim of him being "smarter than a genius"—worked ten steps ahead of his pencil.
Jobs, businesses, investments, opportunities.
He analyzed all of them.
And eliminated all of them.
They were too slow. Too risky. Too easily noticed.
What he truly needed…
was something low-profile, fast, and scalable.
Something he could do quietly.
Something that wouldn't draw attention to their sudden improvements.
Because if anyone noticed—
if anyone suspected something strange—
He wouldn't be the target.
Emma would.
Aiden clenched the pencil tighter until it snapped in half.
No one touches her.
Ever.
⸻
The System Stirs Again
A faint shimmer pulsed in the air.
[System Notice: Mental Resonance Detected]
Aiden stiffened.
[Source: Aiden Cross — internal determination, emotional spike]
[Manifestation: Ability Evolution Triggered]
His heart pounded.
[New Ability Acquired: Tactical Insight]
Tactical Insight…
A strategic ability that sharpened decision-making, predicting outcomes, identifying patterns in social, financial, and survival situations.
Perfect.
Aiden closed his eyes as the new information poured into his mind—quiet, subtle, like learning a skill he had forgotten he already knew.
Suddenly, his notebook no longer felt like chaos.
It felt like a blueprint.
His brain began connecting every financial idea he had scribbled:
Online freelance work → too slow.
Delivery job → requires transportation.
Manual labor → inconsistent pay.
Gambling → too dangerous.
Selling items → need inventory.
But one line shined brighter than the rest:
Digital services.
He could use his new mind.
His new skills.
His new abilities.
He wouldn't need a car.
He wouldn't need upfront costs.
He wouldn't need a team.
He just needed time.
And he could do it all from home—next to Emma.
Aiden immediately sat down at the old laptop, the one that froze every ten minutes and had duct tape holding the hinge together.
He turned it on.
It took two minutes to load the home screen.
Aiden exhaled slowly.
"We'll start small," he murmured. "But this… this might work."
⸻
Two Hours Later
By evening, Aiden had set up three freelance accounts under different names. His profile descriptions were professional, the portfolios clean and believable. His newly enhanced mind allowed him to craft precise examples of writing, graphic editing, problem-solving, and data organization—even ones he had never tried before.
When his first job notification came in, Aiden felt something spark inside him.
A simple task.
A short summary request.
Ten minutes of work.
Seven dollars earned.
Not much.
But it was a beginning.
He submitted the work instantly.
The client responded two minutes later with a five-star review.
Then another job came.
Then another.
Aiden's fingers flew across the keyboard, his mind running as smoothly as a machine.
For the first time in years—
he felt capable.
He felt in control.
He felt like he could build something real.
But just as he began drafting the next task—
The system pulsed again.
[Passive Ability Activated: Performance Optimization]
[Efficiency boosted during skill execution]
[Error minimization enabled]
[Creative output enhanced]
Aiden blinked.
"…So Emma's belief didn't just give me raw intelligence," he whispered. "It gave me… mastery."
He almost laughed at the absurdity.
A ten-year-old's attempt to impress her classmates had turned him into the type of worker companies would kill to recruit.
But he didn't want companies.
He wanted freedom.
He wanted safety.
He wanted Emma's future.
And so, he continued typing.
⸻
Emma Wakes Up
It was sunset when Emma finally opened the bedroom door, rubbing her eyes.
"Aiden…?"
He turned from the laptop and smiled gently. "Hey. How do you feel?"
"A little dizzy… but better." She walked slowly and sat beside him. "What are you doing?"
"Working," he said simply.
Emma looked at the screen, her eyes widening. "You're so fast…"
Aiden closed the laptop and shifted his focus completely to her.
"Em," he said softly. "You fainted today. That scared me."
Emma lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry…"
"You don't have to be sorry. Just tell me if you feel hungry. Or tired. Or anything, okay?"
She nodded.
He hesitated before asking:
"And… at school… did you say anything else about me today?"
Emma thought for a moment. "I said you always pick me up after school. And that you work really hard. But that's true!"
Aiden smiled faintly. "Yeah. That one is true."
She brightened a little. "I didn't lie. Not that time."
Aiden gently patted her head. "Good."
They ate dinner—simple rice and eggs, the last of their groceries. Something had to change. Soon.
Emma suddenly looked up from her plate.
"Aiden?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think… one day… we can move to a better apartment?"
Aiden froze.
"We will," he said firmly. "I promise."
Emma smiled, believing him completely.
But the system didn't activate.
Aiden understood why.
Emma wasn't lying—she was hoping.
That made the system's mechanics clearer.
Her words only changed reality when she confidently stated something untrue…
or when she exaggerated something she emotionally wished were true.
She had to believe her own lie.
That meant Aiden couldn't teach her to lie deliberately.
It would break her innocence.
And break the system.
He couldn't risk that.
So he kept his thoughts quiet.
Emma leaned on his arm. "I know you can do anything."
Those words…
were the heaviest gift he had ever received.
⸻
Night Falls — And Trouble Comes
Emma fell asleep early, curled under the blanket. Aiden continued working on the laptop, taking breaks to check on her.
Around midnight—
A knock echoed through the apartment.
Aiden froze.
No one knocked on their door at this hour.
He slowly stood, the system subtly heightening his awareness.
Knock.
Knock.
He approached the door, heart alert, and peered through the peephole.
His blood went cold.
Two men in black suits stood outside.
The same type of suit the "inheritance messenger" had worn in Chapter 7.
Aiden's mind sharpened instantly.
He spoke quietly through the door. "Who is it?"
A calm voice answered:
"Mr. Cross. We're here to discuss your late grandfather's estate."
Aiden's pulse pounded.
The fake grandfather.
The inheritance that never existed.
The system-created reality—
It was catching up to him.
And he wasn't ready.
Not yet.
Not when Emma was sleeping in the next room.