Chapter 3: Two Packets
1022 Words
To reach Level 2, the system required a spending threshold of $10,000.
If he waited solely for the system’s rewards to accumulate, it would take twelve whole days—far too sluggish for his liking. Aaron rubbed his chin, contemplating whether he should devise a way to expedite the process.
He picked up his phone, logged into the JPMorgan Chase & Co. app, and checked his account balance: **$10,420.05**.
Every cent accounted for—this was the sum he had painstakingly saved over the past year of work.
And this was only possible because he had lived frugally.
These days, few fresh graduates can boast such savings.
Yet, as his eyes lingered on the balance, a sudden recollection struck him. He hastily retrieved a slip of paper from his wallet.
Scrawled on it was the Whats'Y'App number of the girl from the bus—the one he still needed to repay.
The digits appeared to be a phone number. With practiced ease, Aaron tapped *"Add Contact,"* searched for the number, and found her Whats'Y'App profile.
A cute puppy avatar greeted him, accompanied by the username *"Little Lucky."*
After verifying the number against the slip, ensuring no mistake, he clicked *"Add to Contacts."*
Pausing briefly, he typed a note in the verification field:
*"Hello! Thank you for covering my bus fare earlier. I’d like to repay you."*
Given that she was undoubtedly attractive, he figured she likely received countless unsolicited friend requests. Without a proper explanation, she might have assumed he was just another stranger with dubious intentions—leading to an awkward rejection.
---
*"Alexis, you’re back so late! We heard you’ve started streaming—is it true? What exactly do streamers do? Just sit there yelling ‘Bro, 666!’ while people throw thousands at you?"*
*"Are you going to come home this late every day? That sounds exhausting!"*
*"Seriously, how much do streamers even make? Is it worth the grind?"*
The moment Alexis stepped into the dorm, her roommates swarmed her with questions.
A junior at NYU, Alexis had been scouted by a local MCN agency for her striking looks and melodic voice, leading to her debut as an online streamer that very evening.
The agency offered a base salary, along with fixed working hours—today marked her first shift.
Initially, Alexis had been hesitant. Despite the booming popularity of live-streaming, the industry still carries a stigma, often dismissed as vulgar.
But after touring the agency’s facilities and learning about the typical streamer’s routine, she found herself swayed.
Of course, the generous pay didn’t hurt.
Four hours each evening, from 6:30 to 10:30, for a guaranteed $4,000 a month?
On top of that, viewer donations would be split between her, the platform, and the agency.
With a bit of luck, earning tens of thousands monthly wasn’t out of reach.
For a college student, the offer was undeniably tempting.
Moreover, Alexis had signed on as a *talent streamer*—her role centered on singing and casual interaction, steering clear of unsavory content.
Thus, she became a musical streamer on t****k, embarking on her first day.
---
Hearing her roommates’ barrage of questions, Alexis smiled.
*"It’s actually really nice. I just sit in a private studio, sing, chat, and before I know it, hours fly by. Super relaxed! Though, since it’s my first day, aside from the agency’s team tipping a few hundred, viewers only donated a couple of dollars."*
*"Tch. And you’re making thousands a month for that? "Pretty privilege is real,"* one roommate remarked enviously.
*"No kidding. "Even we girls adore Alexis—imagine the simps out there,"* another chimed in.
Alexis sighed. *"Oh, come on. The streaming world is packed with stunning women—I’m average at best. My edge is my singing, not my face. Anyway, I need a shower—I’m boiling!"*
With that, she gathered her toiletries and fresh clothes, disappearing into the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, she emerged, humming as she towel-dried her hair.
*"Ding—"*
Her phone, resting on the desk, chimed with a Whats'Y'App notification.
Alexis picked it up and tapped the screen.
A friend request.
Reading the accompanying note, her lips curled into a smile as she recalled the evening’s encounter on the bus.
*So the handsome guy actually kept his word—must’ve added me the moment he got home.*
Then again…
*Maybe it’s just because I’m pretty.*
Who knew what people truly think these days?
Shrugging, she accepted Aaron’s request without further ado.
---
Meanwhile, Aaron remained in his rented apartment, torn over whether to deplete his $10,000 savings for the system’s upgrade.
His gaze kept flickering to his phone, awaiting the approval of his Whats'Y'App request.
By now, he fully believed in the system’s legitimacy.
But…
Without tangible proof of rewards—without seeing a single cent deposited into his account—emptying his life’s savings still felt like a reckless gamble.
*"Ding—"*
The Whats'Y'App tone rang.
Aaron snatched up his phone. *Little Lucky* had accepted his request.
After a brief hesitation, he sent two packets: one for $2, the other for $200.
Then, he typed:
*"Thanks again for your help earlier. The second packet is a small token—consider it dinner for me."*
Originally, he’d planned to send $20 for coffee.
But then it hit him—he was a man with a *tycoon system* now. Stinginess was beneath him.
*Go big or go home.*
$200 it was.
---
Back in the dorm, Alexis had just set her phone down after accepting *Aaron’s* request, ready to blow-dry her hair, when—
*"Ding. Ding. Ding."*
A rapid succession of chimes.
Sighing, she grabbed her phone again.
*Huh. Two packets?*
But upon reading the message, her brows furrowed slightly. She claimed the first packet but left the second untouched, replying instead:
*"I’ll take the first one, but you can keep the second. If you really mean it, treat me to dinner sometime."*
She wasn’t actually angling for a meal—it was merely a graceful way to decline.
Flat-out refusing a kind gesture would’ve been impolite.
Such was Alexis’s nature: considerate, always mindful of others’ feelings.
- Writer
