The rhythmic clatter of the train was a constant metronome marking the pulse of his new life.
Seated by the window, Max ignored the landscape blurring past.
His attention was completely absorbed by the translucent blue panel floating before his eyes, invisible to the other passengers.
[SECOND CHANCE SYSTEM v1.0]
Host:Max
Level:1
Title:The Regressor
Available SP:1
He mentally navigated to the skill shop.
The options were tempting: stat boosts, interaction skills, subtle tricks.
But his mind, now sharpened by failure and experience, sought something more fundamental.
His greatest enemy in his past life hadn’t been a cunning rival or a manipulative woman.
It had been himself.
The panic that constricted his chest, the anxiety that clouded his judgment, the doubt that paralyzed his legs.
His mental finger hovered over a passive skill.
This one.
[Do you wish to spend 1 SP to acquire the passive skill: Player Mind?]
[Player Mind]:Grants immunity to mental pressure, fear, and intimidation effects.
Allows the host to maintain absolute calm in high-stress situations.
Confirm.
A sensation of lucid cold washed through his mind, as if a switch had been flipped.
The slight nervousness he hadn’t even realized he was carrying vanished, replaced by total serenity.
His first investment hadn’t been in strength or charisma, but in an unbreakable foundation.
Insurance against his old self.
Then, another system notification caught his eye.
[Main Quest: First Profits]
Objective:Generate your first real earnings.
Achieve a profit of $5,000 in less than 7 days.
Reward for success:
7 System Points (SP)
Active Skill unlocked: [Predictive Analysis]
When he stepped off the train and onto the campus of San Javier Private University, he understood the scale of the challenge.
It wasn’t a campus; it was a statement of power.
Classical architecture blended with modern glass structures, surrounded by impeccably manicured gardens.
The cars dropping students off at the entrance cost more than his family would earn in a lifetime.
His first stop was the administration office.
The polite woman behind the counter handed him a brochure.
The cold numbers hit him harder than the river water ever had.
Monthly Tuition:$1,200.
Dormitory (single room, cheapest option):$800.
A total of $2,000 a month just to exist here.
His $500, which had felt like a treasure an hour ago, now felt like a joke.
The system’s mission to earn $5,000 wasn’t a game.
It was a survival sentence.
With an empty stomach and a racing mind, he headed to the central dining hall.
The place looked more like a luxury country club than a university cafeteria.
The murmur of conversation was peppered with brand names, exotic vacation spots, and complaints about how slow their parents’ yacht service was.
Max, in his worn jeans and generic t-shirt, was an anomaly.
He felt the stares on him, heavy with disdain and morbid curiosity.
Thanks to [Player Gaze], he could see the small titles floating above their heads: “Heir to Roldan Vineyards,” “Congressman’s Daughter,” “Influencer in Training.” He felt like a commoner who had accidentally stumbled into the throne room.
And in the center of that room, at the largest table, sat the king and queen of the ball.
[Leonardo “Leo” Vargas]
Level 2: Charismatic Student
Title: Social Parasite (Hidden)
Status: Arrogant.
Enjoying the attention.
[Victoria Mont]
Level 3: Campus Queen
Title: Untouchable Heiress
Status: Bored.
Looking for entertainment.
Leo was gesturing wildly, telling a story that had his entire entourage laughing.
Victoria, beside him, smiled languidly, chin resting on her hand—beautiful and completely uninterested, as if the whole world were a play staged solely to relieve her boredom.
Max needed water.
As he passed their table, a designer boot blocked his path.
“Well, well, look what the wind blew in,” Leo said, his voice ringing with fake camaraderie.
“The scholarship kid from the boonies.
Are you lost looking for the service wing?”
The group’s laughter was instantaneous and cruel.
Thanks to [Player Mind], Max felt nothing.
No shame, no anger, no fear.
His pulse didn’t quicken.
He simply stopped and looked at Leo with a calm that caught the other boy off guard for a second.
“Did your parents have to sell a cow to pay for your train ticket?” one of Leo’s lackeys jeered.
Victoria was watching him now, one eyebrow perfectly arched.
She was sizing him up the way one evaluates a strange insect.
That’s when Max’s eyes drifted to one of the massive flat screens in the dining hall.
They were showing sports highlights.
The green and yellow of the Brazilian national team filled the screen, followed by the black and white of the German team.
Below, a flashing headline: “World Cup Semifinal 2014: Brazil vs.
Germany – TONIGHT.” The date in the corner: July 8, 2014.
A plan, as bold as it was insane, formed in his mind.
He cut through Leo’s next taunt with a quiet voice that sliced through the air.
“You talk a lot for someone who has nothing interesting to say.”
Silence fell over the table.
Leo, whose smile never usually wavered, frowned.
“What did you say, peasant?” He stood up, using his height to try and intimidate Max.
“I’m saying you’re all talk,” Max replied, without backing down an inch.
“You think you’re so smart, but I bet you don’t have the guts to put your money where your mouth is.” With a tilt of his chin, he pointed to the screen.
“Tonight’s game.
Brazil versus Germany.”
The challenge hung in the air, thick and absurd.
“I’ll bet my last 500 dollars,” Max said, raising his voice just enough for the nearby tables to hear.
People began to turn around.
“That Germany wins.
But not just that.” He paused for dramatic effect.
“I bet the exact score will be seven to one.”
If there was silence before, now there was a total vacuum, followed by a thunderous roar of laughter from Leo.
The rest of the group joined in, some nearly falling out of their chairs.
Victoria Mont was looking at him now as if he were a fascinating specimen, a genuine smile of amusement lighting up her face for the first time.
“You’re insane!” Leo exclaimed, wiping a tear of laughter.
“You’re on!
I absolutely accept.
If by some cosmic miracle you win, I’ll pay you 10 to 1.
You’ll take $5,000 dollars straight out of my pocket.
Plus, the loser has to be the winner’s assistant.” His smile turned sharp, predatory.
“When you lose—and believe me, you’re going to lose—those 500 dollars are mine, and you…” He leaned in, his breath smelling of expensive cologne.
“…you’ll be my errand boy.
My personal lackey.
For the entire academic year.
You’ll do whatever I say, whenever I say it.”
Max didn’t waver.
His gaze shifted to the others.
“Does anyone else want some easy money?
Or does Daddy’s allowance not let you make your own decisions?”
The provocation hit the mark.
Offended, several of Leo’s friends jumped in.
“I’ll put up 1,000 dollars too!” one said.
“Me too!” added another.
Max looked at Victoria.
She held his gaze with her bored eyes, but now there was a spark of genuine interest.
With an elegant gesture, she pulled a 1,000 dollar bill from her designer purse and dropped it on the table.
“Life is so tedious,” she said with a sigh.
“At least this will be entertaining.
I’m in.”
The pot had grown.
Five more bets of 1,000 dollars.
If he won, it wouldn’t be $5,000.
It would be $10,000 dollars.
“It’s a deal,” Max said.
He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving a murmur of disbelief and mockery in his wake.
That night, in his spartan, empty room, Max ignored the messages already flooding the university group chat, the memes about “the 7-1 scholarship kid,” and the looks he had received.
He sat on the mattress, turned on the game stream on his cheap phone, and leaned his head against the wall.
The virtual stadium roared through the tiny speakers.
The referee’s opening whistle echoed in the small room.
Max closed his eyes.
He didn’t need to watch the game.
He already knew how it ended.
Now, he just had to wait.