"Whaaaat?! You must be joking—one million?!"
Paul stared at Dayo in disbelief with a tint of anger in his voice.
"Nope," Dayo said calmly, leaning back with a faint smirk. "I'm not joking. You should be happy I'm not asking for more. If this gets released, the amount you'll spend on PR—and the lawsuits from my lawyers—will be far worse. No media allies can save you from that storm."
His tone sharpened. "And let's say I hand this to BL Label, your biggest competitor… We both know they'd love the leverage, especially after all the beef between your companies."
Paul's jaw tightened. He could already see the damage, but was shocked by how Dayo read the situation.
"So," Dayo continued, "call your boss. Tell him my price. And be fast about it."
Vivian's heart pounded as she stared at him. The man she had dated was nothing like this. He had been soft, naive, and unversed in the industry. But now, he spoke like he had been doing this here for years. Which technical wasn't a lie.
Paul hesitated but finally pulled out his phone. He knew Dayo was right. If BL Label got that footage, UC Label's reputation would take a massive hit. Still, one thing was certain: his boss would never agree to a million.
He dialed. "Hello, boss… This is what he said—"
"What?! This boy must be joking! Give him the phone."
Uric's voice was already heavy with different emotions. He was having a headache just thinking about the situation. If this dragged on, the media would sniff it out.
Paul handed the phone over.
"Hello, Mr. Uric," Dayo said, his voice calm and unshaken.
On the other line, Uric paused. Normally, people spoke to him with caution, almost fear. But this voice… this boy sounded like he didn't fear him at all. That alone told him this would not be easy.
"Yes, Dayo. Concerning the price—" his voice turned stern, with intent to intimidate. "I'll give you $300,000. Take it or leave it."
Dayo's lips curled in a faint smirk. "Mr. Uric, there's no need for tricks. My price is one million. Or nothing."
There was a long pause.
"…Alright. $500,000," Uric said slowly, trying to meet him halfway.
"Mr. Uric—"
Before he could finish, Uric snapped, "Dayo, don't be greedy. Let's settle this once and for all."
Dayo inhaled slowly, controlling his urge to reject outright. He was thinking. He was new in this world, without connections. If he wanted a long-term career, starting with an open war against a major label might not be a smart move to make.
Then Uric added an extra offer. "Fine. $500,000, plus I'll sign you as a songwriter with a basic salary of $35,000 and 4% copyright shares."
Paul gasped quietly. Contracts like that were given to established writers with industry influence. But considering the quality of the songs Dayo had written for Vivian, he couldn't deny the boy was worth it.
Dayo thought carefully. The offer was tempting. But working under someone didn't suit him—he valued freedom above all, as he knew how the industry operates.
"Hmmm… I have to refuse your contract," Dayo said finally.
"What?!" Uric barked.
"Calm down, Mr. Uric," Dayo replied calmly. He thought for a moment and then said, "I'll take $650,000. And you owe me one favor in the future. How about that?"
The reduction was calculated. He didn't need unnecessary enemies. The industry was a small circle, and UC Label was a major player in it. Burning this bridge would be foolish. Leaving a sliver of goodwill, however, could pay off later.
On the other end, Uric chuckled. "Smart… very smart. Alright. Deal. But how do we handle the media?"
"Simple," Dayo said. "I'll accept the accusation publicly. Vivian will act like she forgives me, and the drama will be downplayed. Your media allies will bury the story. The public will move on."
He had his reasons. Playing the long game would make Uric owe him another favor. Besides, he was planning to leave the U.K. for the U.S. soon. If he stayed, some reporters might continue to stir trouble. On the surface, it might look careless—but he knew every step he took would come in handy later; it was calculated.
"Alright," Uric said. "Handle it your way. And, young man… if you change your mind, call this number."
Dayo smirked. "Noted. Have a nice day, Mr. Uric."
After rehearsing the plan, Dayo stood and glanced at Vivian and Paul. The air of authority around him was undeniable. Vivian stared at him, still shaken. It was like the man she had once dated was gone, replaced by someone sharper, colder—someone unreadable.
At that moment, Dayo took something that he kept hidden in the room inside his pocket with a smile on his face.
Downstairs, they played out the drama as planned. Vivian acted the part of the forgiving girlfriend, reporters captured their "reconciliation," and UC Label's paid media smoothed over the scandal.
Dayo knew some independent reporters might still talk—but it didn't matter. He'd be out of the country soon.
Vivian tried to speak to him afterward, but he gave her nothing but a cold shoulder. He might have settled with Paul and Uric, but he would never forgive her. Betrayal was something he could never overlook. If nothing else, he owed that to the original owner of the body he now inhabited.
To him, she was nothing more than a chameleon—changing colors whenever it suited her.
***
Back in his small apartment—a cozy one-room space with a kitchen and bathroom—Dayo finally gave a sigh of relief that he could start living in peace.
He summoned the system and took out the golden potion.
[HEALING POTION]
Grants full recovery and cures all illnesses.
The potion is gold in color. He drank it in one gulp. A chilling sensation spread through his body, followed by a sudden heat. His vision blurred. Dizziness hit him like a wave, and then—darkness.
When Dayo woke, a faint headache lingered—but his body felt… new. Pure. Light. His throat no longer carried the heavy, strained pain he had known for years. He hummed a few notes experimentally—smooth, clear, and pain-free.
Tears pricked his eyes as joy swelled in his chest.
He rushed to the mirror. His once skinny frame was more defined, his caramel-brown skin glowing, every scar on his body gone. He looked at the familiar yet strange polished version of himself, reborn.
"Status,"
DING!
[STATS]
Name: Jason Dayo
Age: 20
Status: A Nobody
Singing Level: D+ (Unlocked)
Writing Level: B+
Acting Skill: C-
Visual: B+ (upgraded)
Instrument Mastery:
• Guitar – SS+
• Flute – A+
• Piano – S-
• Violin – A
Music Production: SSS+
Video Editing: B+
Potential: SSS+
System Level: 1
[Hidden Mission Unlocked] – Path to Global Stage
Requirement: Release a viral song that breaks into the Top 50 chart of the world within 90 days.
Reward: System Level 2 + Signature Skill Unlock.
Penalty: One random skill will be locked for 30 days.
Dayo exhaled slowly. "Another mission seems I have to arrange myself and start working."
A tear rolled down his cheek, and he whispered to himself, "Finally… I can sing again."
He wiped his face and took a deep breath, already thinking about the path ahead. He wouldn't rush to release music yet. No—first, he would study this world, understand its rules, and plan his rise carefully.
Dayo had been given a second chance. And this time, he wouldn't waste it.