The restaurant had finally gone quiet.
The last customer had left several minutes ago.
Six wooden tables stood beneath the dim lights, most of them already cleaned. The smell of noodles and fried chicken still lingered in the air, mixed with the faint warmth of the kitchen.
Vash sat near the counter with his new phone beside him.
It still felt strange.
A smartphone.
His own smartphone.
Just a few days ago, he hadn't even had a device capable of joining the class WhatsApp group.
Now he had one sitting right beside him.
But tonight, Grandpa wasn't looking at the phone.
He was looking at an old notebook.
The cover was worn, and several pages had been folded at the corners. Grandpa placed it on the counter and opened it to a page filled with numbers.
Vash leaned closer.
Seven rows were written across the page.
Monday — $720
Tuesday — $685
Wednesday — $790
Thursday — $745
Friday — $810
Saturday — $760
Sunday — $735
Vash stared at them.
His mind immediately began adding.
$720 + $685 = $1,405.
Another $790 made $2,195.
Then $745.
$2,940.
Friday pushed it to $3,750.
Saturday made $4,510.
And finally—
$5,245.
Vash looked at the total again.
$5,245.
That was the restaurant's revenue for the week.
But something bothered him.
That's not the money we actually made.
He had learned enough Business Sense to know that.
Revenue was only the money coming in.
There were still ingredients to buy.
Gas and electricity had to be paid.
There was transportation.
Cleaning supplies.
Other small expenses that were easy to ignore individually but added up when combined.
He looked at the next section.
Ingredient Costs — $2,650
Vash mentally subtracted it.
$5,245 − $2,650 = $2,595.
Then came:
Gas & Electricity — $180
$2,595 − $180 = $2,415.
Transportation & Delivery — $90
$2,415 − $90 = $2,325.
Then:
Cleaning & Other Expenses — $125
$2,325 − $125.
$2,200.
Vash slowly leaned back.
So that was the number.
Not $5,245.
The restaurant had brought in $5,245.
But after the operating expenses—
The weekly profit was $2,200.
His eyes remained on the notebook.
That's a lot more complicated than I thought.
Before his accident, he had never cared about numbers like these.
Money had simply been money.
Customers came in. Food was sold. Cash went into the register.
That was it.
Now he understood there was a difference between sales, expenses, profit, savings, and money kept inside the business.
Grandpa turned another page.
The $2,200 wasn't going straight into their pockets.
It had already been divided.
Restaurant Reinvestment — $700
More ingredients.
Better equipment when necessary.
Maintenance.
Things that could help the restaurant continue growing.
Emergency Reserve — $500
Money that wasn't supposed to be touched unless something unexpected happened.
Household Expenses — $300
Daily needs.
And finally—
Savings — $700
Vash looked at that number.
Seven hundred dollars.
If the restaurant could maintain something close to this level of profit, the savings could slowly become meaningful.
But he knew better than to get excited too quickly.
A busy week didn't guarantee the next week would be the same.
Customers could decrease.
Ingredient prices could rise.
Equipment could break.
Unexpected expenses could appear.
Business isn't just about making money.
It's about keeping enough of it.
His eyes moved lower on the page.
There was another number.
Previous Savings — $2,000
Then:
Additional Savings — $1,500
And beneath it:
Savings Before Phone Purchase — $4,299
Vash paused.
He already knew where the difference had gone.
His phone.
$799.
He mentally checked the calculation.
$4,299 − $799 = $3,500.
That was the amount they had left.
Current Savings — $3,500.
Vash stared at the number for several seconds.
Three thousand five hundred dollars.
Compared with what his grandparents had once had, it wasn't an enormous amount.
But compared with the situation after his accident—
It meant something.
He remembered the small room behind the restaurant.
The faded sign outside.
The old tables.
The things his grandparents had sold.
The sacrifices they had made so he could receive treatment.
They weren't rich.
They hadn't suddenly become wealthy.
They were simply rebuilding.
Slowly.
One customer at a time.
One week at a time.
One dollar at a time.
Vash's fingers rested against the edge of the notebook.
We're moving forward.
That thought felt strangely comforting.
The System appeared.
---
[BUSINESS ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
Business: Grandpa's Noodles
Weekly Revenue: $5,245
Operating Expenses: $3,045
Estimated Weekly Profit: $2,200
Customer Demand: Increased
Ingredient Consumption: Increased
Operating Costs: Increased
Profitability: Improved
Business Management Proficiency:
Beginner — 31%
Financial Stability:
Improving
Long-Term Sustainability:
Requires Continued Monitoring
---
Vash read the final line twice.
Requires Continued Monitoring.
He almost smiled.
Even the System wasn't promising that everything would remain perfect.
That made sense.
Business was something that had to be managed every day.
The System disappeared.
Vash looked at his phone.
For the first time, he didn't see it simply as the expensive device his grandparents had bought him.
It was connected to school.
Homework.
Research.
Communication.
And now, apparently, even the restaurant's future could involve technology.
He picked it up.
The screen lit his face.
There were several notifications.
One of them was from Rohan.
Vash stared at the name for a moment.
Then he remembered something.
He had never actually called Rohan using his new phone.
A small smile appeared.
He pressed the call button.
---
"Vash?"
Rohan sounded surprised.
Vash leaned back in his chair.
"Yeah."
There was a short pause.
"You finally got a phone?"
"Yeah."
"About time."
Vash laughed quietly.
The conversation didn't last long.
They talked about school, homework, and the strange fact that Vash now had access to the class materials without needing to borrow someone else's device.
Then Rohan suddenly changed the subject.
"Do you play Mobile Legends?"
Vash looked at the screen.
"No."
"You have a new phone. That's practically a requirement."
Vash couldn't help laughing.
A few minutes later, the game was installed.
---
The first match was a disaster.
Vash didn't understand the mechanics properly.
There were too many buttons.
Too many abilities.
Too many things happening at once.
He chose Natalia almost immediately.
The invisibility ability caught his attention.
If I can't be seen, I can attack whenever I want.
At least, that was his theory.
Reality disagreed.
He moved into the wrong area.
An enemy appeared.
Vash reacted too late.
His character fell.
A few minutes later, it happened again.
And again.
And again.
By the end of the match, Vash had died eleven times.
They lost badly.
Rohan was silent for a moment.
Then—
"Vash."
"What?"
"Please stop running toward five enemies."
"I thought I could surprise them."
"You surprised me too."
Vash laughed.
The second match went slightly better.
He started noticing patterns.
Certain enemies moved together.
Some attacks had predictable timing.
There were safe areas and dangerous areas.
Natalia's invisibility wasn't something he could use whenever he wanted.
It required timing.
The second match was still a loss.
But Vash died fewer times.
The third match was closer.
He began watching before acting.
Instead of immediately attacking, he observed.
Instead of chasing an enemy, he waited.
Instead of repeating the same mistake, he changed his approach.
His deaths dropped again.
By the fourth match, something had changed.
Vash wasn't suddenly an expert.
He still made mistakes.
But he understood what he was doing.
He moved more carefully.
He recognized when an enemy was trying to lure him.
He waited for the right moment before attacking.
And when Rohan moved in, Vash followed instead of charging ahead alone.
The match ended.
Victory.
Vash looked at the screen.
Then at the statistics.
He had died only three times.
His first game had been eleven deaths.
Now it was three.
Rohan sounded genuinely surprised.
"You learn fast."
Vash looked at Natalia standing on the screen.
Maybe I was just terrible at the beginning.
Then he thought about what had happened.
He hadn't memorized everything.
He had watched.
He had made mistakes.
He had noticed patterns.
And he had adjusted.
Before he could think about it any further, Grandma's voice came from the other side of the room.
"Vash."
He looked up.
"It's late. Time to sleep."
Vash glanced at the clock.
He hadn't noticed how much time had passed.
"Okay, Grandma."
The call with Rohan ended.
Vash put the phone down and stood.
He took a few steps toward his room before stopping.
His new phone was still in his hand.
I should at least check tomorrow's homework.
He opened the mathematics material.
One problem.
Then another.
He solved both.
He hesitated.
One more.
The third problem took longer.
By the time he finished, his eyes were getting heavy.
Vash finally locked the phone.
As he placed it beside his bed, the System appeared one last time.
---
[NEW EXPERIENCE DETECTED]
Activity: Mobile Gaming
Adaptation Rate: Rapid
Pattern Recognition:
Applied
Practical Experience Acquired.
New Proficiency:
Game Sense — +1
Description:
Basic understanding of positioning,
timing, enemy movement, and
decision-making has improved
through practical experience.
---
Vash stared at the window.
Game Sense?
He hadn't thought playing a game could count as experience.
The System apparently disagreed.
He smiled slightly.
Then he turned off the light.
The phone rested beside him.
Four matches.
Three deaths in the last one.
Two math problems completed.
One more ordinary day.
Vash closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, school would begin again.
And there would be more work waiting for him.
He didn't mind.
For the first time in a long while, his life seemed to be moving forward in more than one direction.
Not quickly.
Not perfectly.
But forward.