Saturday afternoon found Damian standing outside the university stadium with Ethan, holding two bottles of water and wondering why he had agreed to come.
The sun was bright enough to make the concrete bleachers look like they had been left inside an oven.
Ethan, meanwhile, looked completely comfortable.
"Bro, you said you wanted to watch the match."
"I said I’d think about watching the match."
"That sounds like a yes."
"That sounds like you interpreting things however you want."
Ethan grinned.
"Same thing."
Damian shook his head and followed him through the entrance.
The stadium wasn’t completely packed, but there were enough students scattered across the stands to create a steady buzz. People were shouting at players, arguing over calls, taking pictures, and pretending they understood every tactical decision happening on the field.
Damian found himself relaxing almost immediately.
There was something nice about being surrounded by people without actually having to talk to most of them.
He could just sit there.
Watch the game.
Listen to Ethan complain.
Perfect.
The whistle blew.
The crowd erupted.
Ethan jumped to his feet.
"COME ON!"
Damian stared at him.
"You know that’s not your team, right?"
"I support whoever scores."
"That’s not how football works."
"It’s how my football works."
Damian laughed.
For the next twenty minutes, money barely crossed his mind.
Neither did Westbridge.
Neither did the system.
It was just football.
Then Ethan leaned toward him.
"You finished that assignment?"
Damian groaned.
"Which one?"
"The economics one."
"I thought it was due next week."
"Monday."
Damian slowly turned toward him.
"Why would you tell me this now?"
"Because we’re friends."
"You’re a terrible friend."
"You’re welcome."
Damian sighed.
"I’m doing it tonight."
"You said that about the last assignment."
"And I did it."
"At 3 a.m."
"Still counts."
Ethan laughed.
The conversation moved on to their professor, then the upcoming exams, then an argument about whether one of their classmates was actually going to pass the semester.
Normal stuff.
It was almost strange.
A few weeks ago, Damian’s biggest concern had been whether he could afford a replacement laptop.
Now he had enough money sitting in his account to completely change his life.
Yet here he was arguing about an assignment.
And honestly?
He preferred it this way.
During halftime, Ethan disappeared toward the food stalls.
Damian stayed behind.
He pulled out his phone and checked his messages.
There was one from Sarah.
Sarah Mitchell:
Hi Damian. Daniel approved the student pilot idea. We’re hoping to start planning next week.
Damian smiled.
That was good news.
He typed a quick response.
Damian:
Sounds good. Let me know what you need from me.
He put his phone away.
Then he noticed a small group of students gathered near one of the stadium entrances.
A table had been set up beneath a canopy.
A handwritten sign read:
WESTBRIDGE UNIVERSITY ENTREPRENEURSHIP CLUB
Damian hadn’t even known the club was involved in the event.
A student standing beside the table was arguing with another guy.
"No, the numbers don’t work."
"They absolutely work."
"You’re calculating revenue without accounting for customer acquisition."
The guy frowned.
"We can deal with that later."
"That is literally the problem."
Damian slowed down.
He hadn’t intended to listen.
But the conversation caught his attention.
The girl holding the clipboard noticed him.
"You agree?"
Damian blinked.
"Sorry?"
"You were listening."
"Kind of."
"So?"
Damian glanced at the sheet in her hand.
There were several numbers written across it.
He looked at them for a few seconds.
"Your projected revenue isn’t the problem."
The guy crossed his arms.
"Then what is?"
"Your assumptions."
The girl raised an eyebrow.
Damian pointed at the paper.
"You’re assuming the same percentage of people who try the service will become paying customers."
"That’s the conversion rate."
"Based on what?"
Silence.
Damian continued.
"You don’t have enough data to assume that yet. Especially if you’re targeting students."
The girl looked down at the paper.
Then back at him.
"You’ve done this before?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
Damian shrugged.
"Because the numbers looked too optimistic."
The other student scoffed.
"So we’re supposed to listen to some random guy standing here eating stadium snacks?"
"I wasn’t eating anything."
Ethan suddenly appeared beside Damian holding two meat pies.
"You are now."
He handed one over.
Damian stared at it.
"You just volunteered me for something."
"You looked hungry."
The girl looked between them.
"Are you two part of the entrepreneurship club?"
Ethan immediately shook his head.
"No."
Damian sighed.
"No."
"Then why were you commenting?"
"Because you asked."
She smiled slightly.
"Fair."
She looked back at the spreadsheet.
"What would you change?"
Damian hesitated.
He wasn’t an expert.
He didn’t want to pretend he was.
"I’d test the idea first."
"With what?"
"A small group."
"How small?"
"Maybe fifty people."
The girl’s expression changed.
"That number sounds familiar."
Damian paused.
Then it clicked.
"Westbridge?"
She looked at him.
"You know about the pilot?"
"I’m involved."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Involved how?"
"I’m part of the student advisory group."
"Already?"
Damian nodded.
She looked genuinely surprised.
"I didn’t know they had one."
"They’re starting one."
She studied him for another moment.
Then extended her hand.
"Claire Bennett."
"Damian Cross."
They shook hands.
No dramatic moment.
No strange tension.
Just two students meeting for the first time.
Claire glanced at the Westbridge logo printed on one of the papers.
"So you’re the student they’re working with?"
"Apparently."
"That explains the questions."
"What questions?"
"You’ve been asking people about their software all week."
Damian frowned.
"I haven’t."
She laughed.
"Not you. Sarah Mitchell."
"Oh."
Claire nodded toward the table.
"We’re helping organize the pilot."
Damian looked at the spreadsheet again.
"Then you should probably change the customer assumptions."
Claire smiled.
"You really don’t know how to leave things alone, do you?"
"Apparently not."
Ethan leaned toward him.
"She got you."
"I heard that."
"Good."
Claire laughed.
Then someone called her from across the field.
"I have to go."
She collected the papers.
"See you around, Damian."
"Yeah."
She walked away.
Ethan waited exactly three seconds.
"So..."
Damian looked at him.
"So what?"
"Nothing."
"Ethan."
"I’m saying nothing."
"You’re making a face."
"I always make this face."
"No, you don’t."
Ethan grinned.
"Interesting."
Damian rolled his eyes.
"Eat your meat pie. Moron."
Later that evening, Damian sat at his desk with his laptop open.
The economics assignment stared back at him.
Three questions.
A presentation section.
A conclusion.
Nothing particularly difficult.
He finished the first page.
Then the second.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Claire.
He stared at the name for a moment.
Claire:
Hey. Quick question about the student pilot.
Damian replied.
Damian:
Sure.
A few seconds passed.
Claire:
Do you think fifty students is enough to get useful data?
Damian leaned back.
He thought about it.
Damian:
Enough for an initial test. Not enough to prove everything.
Claire:
I see.
Damian:
You could split them into groups. Different onboarding approaches, different pricing options.
Three dots appeared.
Claire:
You really were paying attention.
Damian smiled.
Damian:
Unfortunately.
Claire:
😂 I’ll remember that.
The conversation ended there.
Damian put his phone down.
Nothing dramatic.
Just another connection.
Another person he’d met.
Another part of his life beginning to overlap with something bigger.
He returned to his assignment.
About ten minutes later, the room suddenly brightened.
Damian froze.
A large golden interface appeared in the air above his desk.
No sound.
No warning.
Just the familiar translucent screen.
«[SYSTEM STATUS]
[LEVEL: 1]
[PROGRESS: 78%]»
Damian stared.
"Seventy-eight?"
The screen remained still.
He remembered the message from yesterday.
Cashback Boost.
He hadn’t thought much about it during the day.
Now curiosity returned.
"What exactly am I supposed to spend?"
Nothing happened.
Damian frowned.
"Of course."
The interface changed.
«[SYSTEM LEVEL 2 REQUIREMENT]
[CONTINUE ACCUMULATING VALID FINANCIAL PROGRESS.]»
Damian stared at it.
"That doesn’t help."
The screen disappeared.
He leaned back.
For a moment, he considered deliberately buying something expensive just to push the level higher.
Then he stopped himself.
No.
That was exactly the kind of thinking he had promised himself to avoid.
He had written the rule himself.
Don’t let the system make me stupid.
If Level 2 required spending, he’d reach it naturally.
He wasn’t going to throw money away simply because a mysterious golden screen told him there might be something waiting on the other side.
Damian closed the laptop.
Then opened it again.
The assignment was still there.
"Right."
He sighed.
"First, economics."
His phone buzzed again.
Ethan.
Ethan:
You alive?
Damian smiled.
Damian:
You gotta quit asking. I’m not dying anytime soon 😂.
Ethan:
Alright alright 😂. Assignment due Monday.
Damian stared at the message.
Then at the unfinished assignment.
Then back at the message.
"You’re actually evil."
Another message arrived.
Ethan:
😂
Damian shook his head and got back to work.
Outside, the campus was quieting down.
But somewhere beneath the ordinary rhythm of lectures, assignments, football matches, friendships, and student clubs, something had begun to change.
Westbridge was growing.
Damian’s circle was growing.
And the system was quietly waiting for him to reach Level 2.
He just didn’t know what would happen when he did.