The morning sun filtered through the dusty blinds of Elias's small rented room. The mattress creaked as he rolled over, his hand instinctively reaching under the pillow where the silver watch lay hidden. It was still there—cold, heavy, silent, and yet, strangely alive. He could feel its presence like a heartbeat beside his own.
Task One: Find a way to be noticed. Time remaining: 48 hours.
The red digits flashed across his vision again, and then vanished. Elias sat up, running a hand through his tangled hair. The first step had already been taken—he had Scarlett's attention, or at least her curiosity. But that wasn't enough. Not for a girl like her. Not in a campus like this.
Brookside University was a city within a city. A place where elites mingled with influencers, where gala events and student politics danced with underground parties and business start-ups. Here, every student was either born into wealth or found a way to fake it well. The campus was split into layers—those who drove supercars and those who walked, those who drank champagne in the student lounges and those who stood outside watching.
Elias was from the bottom. The real bottom. And today, he had to climb—fast.
He skipped his morning class. Instead, he borrowed an old DSLR camera from the photography department, lying that he was working on a short film project. Then he spent the rest of the morning editing a small teaser video featuring Scarlett. It was fast-paced, flashy, stylish—clips from her social media, edited with transitions, color grading, music, and a fake "documentary" vibe. By noon, it was posted on his barely-used account under the title "The Reign of Scarlett Begins."
It blew up faster than he expected.
People shared it. Commented. Some mocked it, others praised the editing. But most importantly—Scarlett noticed.
She messaged him just before his shift at the auto shop.
> Scarlett:
What the hell, Elias? That edit is actually fire.
Where did you learn that?
> Elias:
Around. I do freelance stuff sometimes.
Like I said… I can make you a star.
> Scarlett:
Hmm. Be at the Crimson Hall party tonight. 8PM.
Don't embarrass me.
Elias stared at the message for a long moment, then looked at himself in the cracked mirror. He looked tired. Poor. Out of place. If he was going to walk into a party filled with campus royalty, influencers, heirs, and sugar babies, he needed more than confidence.
He needed help.
By five, he was standing outside a small thrift store in the lower east block. A girl was inside folding clothes—tall, slim, short pixie-cut hair, and a bored look on her face. Her name was June. She was 19, studying fashion, and working two jobs. She used to be his lab partner last semester, and the only person who ever talked to him like he mattered.
"I need you to make me look like I belong," Elias said without greeting.
She didn't even blink. "You have money?"
"No."
"Then why should I help you?"
Elias paused. "Because I'm going to change everything. And when I do, I won't forget you."
That made her look up.
"You're insane," she muttered. "But I like it. Fine. Get in."
An hour later, Elias stood in front of the mirror again—this time wearing black slacks, a crisp white shirt with a velvet jacket, and a silver chain around his neck. His hair was styled back, eyes clear, skin scrubbed clean. He didn't look rich, not quite—but he didn't look invisible anymore either.
When he arrived at Crimson Hall, he felt the eyes. The hall itself was glowing—lit with floating orbs of soft red light, with students draped in luxury and seduction. There were rooftop lounges, designer cocktails, music blasting from invisible speakers, and live streaming stations in every corner. This was where reputations were made and destroyed. And tonight, Elias had a mission.
He spotted Scarlett on the upper balcony. She looked like a goddess—tight black dress, stilettos, and a silver tiara that shimmered beneath the lights. She was surrounded by boys, laughing, posing for photos, sipping from a crystal glass.
Then she saw him.
And everything slowed.
She walked over, heels clicking against the marble tiles, parting the crowd like a queen. "Damn," she said, giving him a once-over. "Didn't think you had it in you."
Elias shrugged. "I'm full of surprises."
Before she could respond, a voice behind them chimed in. "Who's the new beggar-boy?"
It was Julian. Rich. Arrogant. Captain of the debate team. Son of a senator. And one of the many who took joy in humiliating Elias daily.
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Julian, don't start."
But Julian stepped closer, smirking. "You're polluting the air, Stone. What'd you do? Sneak in wearing someone else's clothes?"
The crowd laughed, and Elias felt that familiar sting—the burning heat in his chest, the echo of every insult, every broken moment of his past.
But then…
Task Progress: 68%.
The watch pulsed in his wrist.
Elias smiled.
"I came to see what real disappointment looks like," he replied calmly. "And here you are, Julian."
A hush fell. Someone gasped. Julian's smirk faltered.
Scarlett burst into laughter. "Okay, I take it back. You're good."
The night went on. More eyes followed Elias now. He was still nobody, still broke—but he had walked into the lion's den and hadn't flinched. Scarlett danced with him. Photos were taken. A few livestreamers caught their moment on camera. Rumors sparked instantly.
By midnight, Elias left the party and walked through the empty campus road back to his place. The stars were above. The air was cool. His jacket smelled like perfume and sweat and victory.
The watch glowed softly.
Task One Complete.
Reward: Enhanced Charisma (Level 1).
Next Task: Sleep with someone out of your league within 72 hours.
Reward: Locked.
Elias froze.
The game had just begun.
And now, the stakes were higher.