Sport Bike

Ethan tugged his jacket tighter against the evening chill as he stepped off the bus near the apartment building.

The neighborhood was quieter than usual, the sounds of distant traffic and a barking dog filling the air. With a steady pace, he made his way down the cracked sidewalk toward the property he'd come to think of as his second chance.

The food truck business was thriving.

His decision to hire an additional person for each truck had proven wise, even though it meant paying out more.

The streamlined operations and their combined efforts were pulling in daily profits he could hardly believe.

Ethan's phone buzzed occasionally with updates from his team, but for the most part, he trusted them to handle the work.

It was liberating, in a way — this idea that he didn't have to do everything himself anymore.

The apartment building loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the how it had been. It was still a work in progress, but Ethan could see the improvements already taking shape.

The graffiti that had once defaced its walls was gone, and fresh coats of paint were gradually bringing it back to life.

He spotted Marty near the front entrance, talking with one of the workers. The contractor waved when he saw Ethan approaching.

"Hey! Just in time," Marty called, his voice echoing slightly in the empty street.

Ethan shook his hand, glancing around. "How's it looking?"

"Come inside and see for yourself."

The interior smelled faintly of paint and sawdust. The hallway walls, which had been crumbling when Ethan first saw them, now stood smooth and clean.

A few workers were measuring planks for flooring near the far end of the hall, their voices low as they discussed the next steps.

"We got the walls done ahead of schedule," Marty said, gesturing proudly. "And the windows? Most of them are in already. You won't recognize this place once we're finished."

Ethan nodded, running a hand along one of the walls. The surface was cool and even, the rough patches and exposed brick gone. "You guys are doing amazing work."

"We aim to please," Marty said with a grin. "Flooring's next, and then we'll tackle the fixtures. You've got yourself a solid property here, Boss."

Ethan stayed for a while, walking through the building as Marty pointed out areas that still needed attention. It wasn't perfect — not yet — but it was getting there.

As the crew wrapped up for the evening, Ethan thanked Marty and the team before stepping back outside. The air was colder now, the sun completely set and the streetlights buzzing faintly above him. He glanced at his phone.

A notification from the system blinked at him, reminding him of his earnings for the day from the food trucks.

By the time Ethan reached the bus stop, he was tired but satisfied. He grouped up with them under the shade of the oak tree and took the money before paying them each their halves.

Even after paying his staff and covering other costs, he'd pocketed enough to make his former corporate salary seem laughable.

The bus pulled up, and Ethan climbed aboard, finding a seat near the back.

As the vehicle rumbled toward his neighborhood, he couldn't help but think about how far he'd come.

When he finally stepped through the door of his small apartment, the exhaustion hit him all at once.

He dropped the bag of cash on the kitchen counter and sank onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. His phone buzzed again, and this time, it wasn't about the food trucks.

The system had a message for him:

[Congratulations. You have reached 200% RP for your first investment.]

[You Have Been Rewarded with $150, 000]

Ethan sat up straight, staring at the screen as the message continued:

[Reminder: The system ensures the success of all physical investments made under its guidance. Online or speculative investments remain unsupported. Your next investment opportunity will be presented soon.]

Ethan laughed, the sound echoing softly in the empty apartment.

He was debt-free, his business was thriving, and now he had more money sitting in his account. It wasn't just a victory — it was redemption. He fell asleep shortly after, he did have a busy day ahead of him tomorrow.

#####

Ethan stood in the middle of the shop, surrounded by rows of sleek, gleaming sport bikes.

The smell of rubber and engine oil filled the air, along with the faint hum of the store's background music.

He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. He hadn't splurged on anything for himself in months now — his salary hadn't been enough to delve into expensive things and he was mostly working.

A young salesman in a polo shirt approached him, a friendly smile on his face. "Welcome! Looking for a bike today?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah, something... fast but reliable."

"You've come to the right place," the salesman said, gesturing to the rows of bikes. "We've got some incredible options, all top-of-the-line. Any particular budget you're working with?"

Ethan chuckled lightly, more to himself than anyone else. "Not really. Show me what you've got."

The salesman's eyes lit up. "Alright, let's start over here."

He led Ethan to a deep red bike that seemed to glisten under the store's lights. "This is the Ducati Panigale V2 — 955cc engine, sharp design, and one of the best in its class. It's $25,000, but every penny is worth it."

Ethan leaned closer, running his hand along the smooth surface. "Looks like it could outrun a jet."

The salesman laughed. "It might feel like it too when you're on it."

They moved down the row.

"Now, this one here is the Yamaha YZF-R1, $22,000. It's got a more aggressive feel and is packed with tech, like its crossplane engine and advanced electronic aids. Perfect if you want something sporty and futuristic."

Ethan nodded, appreciating the sharp edges and bold blue paint job.

"And lastly," the salesman said, patting a sleek black bike with a subtle green trim, "the Kawasaki Ninja H2. It's $30,000, but this beast is supercharged. You'll feel like you're flying every time you hit the throttle."

Ethan stepped back, taking in all three bikes. He hadn't planned on spending this much time deciding, but each option was tempting in its own way.

After a moment, he pointed at the Ducati.

"This one feels... right," he said.

"Excellent choice," the salesman said, already pulling out a tablet to finalize the sale.

The paperwork didn't take long.

As Ethan handed over the payment, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.