The soft chime of the elevator faded behind him as Liam stepped off the penthouse elevator onto the lobby.
Sunlight filtered in through the glass façade, painting the marble floor in golden streaks.
He ignored Stacy, as he adjusted the grocery list in his hand and made his way toward the entrance—only to hear her voice behind him.
"Hey, umm... I'm sorry about yesterday."
She stood a few steps away, her posture hesitant. Her eyes darted briefly to the floor, then back up to him, and she gave a soft, apologetic smile.
"I didn't mean the things I said yesterday in a bad way," she continued. "I was just trying to help. I thought you were... you know, someone who got lost or—well, I didn't mean to sound rude."
Liam blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He had expected her to throw out a sarcastic comment or maybe continue acting entitled like she had the day before. But an apology? That was unexpected.
Still, he didn't feel any lingering irritation.
"It's fine," he said with a slight smile and resumed walking toward the exit.
But before he could take more than a few steps, he heard her hurried footsteps catching up behind him.
Liam turned, raising a brow.
Stacy stood there, phone in hand, trying her best to maintain a polite and casual expression—but he could see the curiosity bubbling behind her eyes.
"My name's Stacy," she said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I live on the seventh floor. If you don't mind, I'd like to have your number. Just in case I ever need help or... we bump into each other again. Maybe we can get to know each other better?"
She extended her phone toward him.
Liam didn't answer right away. He held her gaze for a second long and it made her shift slightly under the weight of his silence—then took the phone from her hand.
"Sure," he said simply.
He tapped his number into her contacts and handed the device back.
"Anything else?" he asked, tone still even.
Stacy blinked. "No. Thanks."
She gave him a small smile—less confident this time—and walked back toward the elevator, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.
He knew exactly why she wanted his number. She wasn't being flirty, not really. She was intrigued. Curious. The penthouse had been empty for a long time—until now. And now, some guy in beat-up clothes suddenly had exclusive elevator access and drove a luxury Maserati?
She was curious about the identity of the person that's living in the penthouse.. And he intends to humour her.
Liam smiled faintly to himself as he walked out of the complex.
The drive to the nearest high-end grocery store took only ten minutes. Liam parked the car, grabbed a cart, and stepped inside.
The interior was spotless, with soft music playing in the background and the scent of fresh bread and roasted coffee lingering in the air. It was nothing like the budget stores he used to shop in. There were no long lines, no stale air, no harsh fluorescent lighting.
He walked through the aisles, casually selecting items. Everything from fruits, vegetables, dairy, and spices, to imported oils, meats, and a bottle of vintage wine he picked just because he could.
He paid for everything without blinking, even though the bill crossed the $2,000 mark. The cashier gave a professional smile, but he could tell she was surprised. Liam, dressed casually, didn't look like someone who'd drop that much on groceries.
He loaded the bags into his trunk, drove home, and returned to his penthouse with multiple bags of food and ingredients.
Not long ago, he couldn't even afford ramen noodles.
Now, he had a luxury kitchen, marble countertops, and enough ingredients to cook like a private chef.
He put everything away and prepped a simple breakfast—eggs, toast, grilled mushrooms, and fruit juice. Nothing fancy. Just real food. Food he didn't have to stretch or ration. Food he could enjoy.
He plated it carefully and sat by the wide window in the living room, the city skyline stretching before him.
Each bite tasted better than the last.
For the first time in years, Liam wasn't eating to survive.
He was eating because he wanted to.
The rest of the day drifted by like a breeze.
He watched movies. Took a nap. Browsed online for furniture additions—maybe a sound system, maybe a massage chair. He even tried to read a book but dozed off halfway through.
There was no pressure, no boss to yell at him, no bills to fear.
It was the kind of lazy day rich people took for granted.
So this is what it's like to live, Liam thought, reclining on the sofa.
The sky darkened, and the city lights below twinkled like a sea of stars. He poured himself a glass of cold juice and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
There was just one thing bugging him.
He hadn't seen the option pop up all day.
He was about to start panicking as the thought that system was just a one-off thing, and he might go back to the way the things were before.
Or maybe the sign-in option won't appear tonight and when he goes to bed, and wakes up tomorrow, he will find out that everything was all a dream.
That would really hurt. Just the thought alone was already causing his chest to tighten.
He was just about to call out to the system and ask about the sign-in option when the highly anticipated notification finally chimed in his head.
[Would you like to sign in, Host?]
Liam sat up with a grin. "Yes."
[Congratulations, Host. You have received $300,000, +5 attribute points]
[Host can now view status info screen. Say "status" to view.]
His phone buzzed almost immediately.
Liam grabbed it, opened the bank app, and laughed softly when he saw the balance:
A new influx of cash—and stat points now too?
His smile widened. So the system gave more than money.
And now there was a new feature.
"Status," Liam said aloud.