"He's doing good, sir." Mark could hear Henry's voice from somewhere far away, talking to his father.
His eyes stayed closed. Opening them felt like it would shatter his skull. He was lying on what felt like a bed, probably in the nurse's office based on the smell of antiseptic and old band-aids.
"Henry, Henry," he called out without opening his eyes.
"Henry's not here." A female voice replied, but it sounded different from normal voices. Clear. Direct. Like it was speaking inside his skull instead of through his ears.
"Who are you?"
"Open your eyes, Mr. Lidorf."
"You're a nurse, right?" Mark asked, feeling fire behind his eyelids every time he tried to move them.
"I said open your eyes, Hugo." The voice came like a command, sharp and authoritative.
Fear shot through him. Nobody here knew that name. He forced his eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights.
The room was empty. Just him, the bed, and a small table with his broken glasses sitting there like a sad monument to his defeat.
Hallucination. Had to be. Getting beaten unconscious probably came with side effects. Concussions caused all kinds of weird symptoms.
He sat up slowly, every muscle screaming in protest. His ribs felt like someone had kicked them repeatedly. His face throbbed with each heartbeat. His broken glasses sat on the table, one lens completely shattered, the frame bent at an impossible angle.
He reached for them anyway and put them on. Everything blurred worse than before, like looking through frosted glass smeared with petroleum jelly. He took them off. Perfect vision. Crystal clear. Wait.
His heart started racing. He'd been basically blind without glasses since he woke up in this body. Now suddenly he could see every crack in the ceiling tiles, every scratch on the metal bed frame?
Then he remembered the game device. He'd had it in his pocket when Daniel was pounding his face into the cafeteria floor. Mark reached into his pocket and felt something sharp slice his finger.
"Damn it," he muttered, pulling out pieces of yellow plastic and shattered circuitry. The game was destroyed. Completely obliterated. And there was something else. A card. Black, sleek, completely unmarked except for his name embossed in silver.
This was the device he'd protected for decades. The source of every success, every advantage, every impossible victory. And now it was broken fragments in his bleeding hand.
But fighting Daniel had been required. The game had never steered him wrong before, even when its commands seemed insane. Even this destruction had to be part of the pattern.
"This is a new experience, Mr. Lidorf." That voice again, no longer pretending to be a nurse. "What you're holding is an untraceable card. Your rewards will be deposited directly whenever you complete a task. No banks. No paper trails. Completely invisible to any financial system."
Mark looked around the empty room. Then he noticed something floating in his vision. A translucent screen, like augmented reality, except he wasn't wearing any device. No glasses, no contacts, nothing. Just information hovering in mid-air that only he could see.
He reached out tentatively and touched it. The screen responded instantly, rippling under his fingertips like water.
[System Booting....] [THE ETERNAL WEALTH SYSTEM| END MODE ACTIVATED]
[TASK ONE: COMPLETED] [REWARD GRANTED: Reality Sync Upgrade + System Card]
[BALANCE: $0.00| player level : 1]
Understanding crashed over him like a wave. The game hadn't broken. It had evolved. Upgraded. Uploaded itself directly into his perception somehow, bypassing the need for any physical device.
"This is insane," Mark whispered to the empty room. No more carrying around a suspicious yellow toy. No more hiding it in his backpack like a secret. The sky was the limit now.
He double-tapped the floating screen experimentally and it disappeared, leaving his vision clear and normal. Just like closing an app on a phone.
"Hope you're enjoying the upgrade?" the system voice said inside his head, almost amused.
The door opened and Bethany walked in. The girl from the convenience store. Now he understood why she'd known him so well when they first met. She worked here as an assistant nurse. Mark Lidorf had probably been a regular patient here.
"Mark, you're awake?" she said, genuine relief flooding her voice.
"Yeah, I am. Hey, Bethany."
"How do you feel?" She came closer to where he sat on the edge of the bed, legs swinging.
"I can see her affection points are quite high," the system voice chimed in helpfully. "It seems there's someone who truly cares about you, Lidorf."
"Fuck off," Mark said automatically, then immediately realized his mistake. The voice was only in his head. Bethany was real and standing right in front of him.
"Excuse me?" Bethany's expression shifted from concern to hurt, like he'd slapped her.
"I'm so sorry, Bethany." Mark felt his face heating up despite the bruises. He'd have to get used to having conversations in his head without responding out loud like a crazy person. "That wasn't meant for you. I swear."
"You can't take your anger out on me, Mark." Her voice was firm but not unkind. The tone of someone who'd dealt with his moods before. "I heard you weren't even attacked this time. You started the fight. What were you thinking?"
"Bethany, I'm really sorry."
"You know how weak your body is." She pulled out a new pair of glasses from her pocket, practical and cheap-looking. "Here. You'll thank me later."
"Thank you, Bethany. Really. But I won't need them this time." He stood up, steadier than he expected, and on impulse kissed her on the cheek.
Her expression transformed. Surprise, then something warmer, softer. Like this was the first genuine affection Mark Lidorf had ever shown her in all the times she'd patched him up and covered for him.
"That was a wise move," the system voice interjected. "Building alliances early will serve you well."
Mark ignored it.
"Thank you for everything, Bethany," he said, meaning it. Thinking about all the times she must have helped this kid, cleaned his wounds, called his father, lied to administrators. "For all of it. More than you know."
"It's not much, Mark," she replied quietly. But her face said otherwise. Years of caring for someone who barely acknowledged her existence, and now suddenly being truly seen.
"We'll meet again," Mark said, heading for the door.
He caught his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall. Two stitches across his left cheek, already bruising purple and yellow like a sunset made of pain. His eye was swollen half-shut. His lip was split.
My God, that was brutal. I thought big guys were all muscle and no skill, but Danny absolutely destroyed me.
The system voice stayed mercifully quiet as Mark stepped out into the hallway, his new reality slowly sinking in. He had perfect vision now. A mysterious black card in his pocket. And apparently an AI assistant living in his brain that could see "affection points" like life was a video game. Which, he was starting to realize, it literally was.
As Mark walked toward the parking lot, he saw Sherry Braithwaite heading straight for him.