Chapter 15: Elbow grease and Unanswered Debt

The quiet days after the tournament weren't slow—they were full.

Full of machines. Full of tools. Full of sweat.

For the past week, Ethan had barely left the arcade. He lived between cabinets, crawling through coin slots, removing cracked control panels, soldering stubborn joints with careful precision. Each day was a rhythm of repairs, upgrades, and the occasional crash course in technical wizardry.

It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't loud. But it was progress.

__________________________________________________________________________________

The aftermath of the tournament had revealed just how much strain the machines had endured.

Ethan had made it through the event without a single major breakdown, but several of the restored cabinets were running on borrowed time.

So, he'd gotten to work.

Soul Calibur II's dying CRT was replaced with a modern LCD conversion, saving power and freeing up the last usable tube for another cabinet.House of the Dead 2 got a full recalibration and sensor alignment. The right light gun still sputtered sometimes, but it was playable again.Rampage had a new back panel installed—cut and painted by hand—and a reflowed board to fix input lag.And Tekken 3, long deemed barely salvageable, had been brought back from the edge with a refurbished game board ordered from a collector Ethan found on a retro gaming forum.

Each fix had been a learning experience—sometimes frustrating, sometimes revelatory. But with every successful repair, his skill sharpened.

[Repair Skill Progress: 79% to Level 8]

He didn't rely on the system as much anymore. The knowledge that once came through trickled hints now felt like his own. The system hadn't made him capable—it had helped him uncover that he always had been.

And that feeling?

That was better than any progress bar.

Small Wins, Bigger Vision

The arcade felt more alive than ever.

Not just because of the machines, but the little changes Ethan had made:

Cabinets were now grouped by genre, with hand-made signs to help new players navigate.A few framed posters had been hung on the walls—replicas, not the rare prize ones—giving the space more character.He'd added folding chairs near the DDR machine and co-op games for people who wanted to watch.And behind the counter, he'd built a tiny parts wall: neatly labeled bins, basic tools within reach, a true repair station.

Each improvement was small, but they added up—like leveling up a base in an RPG. Every upgrade made the arcade feel more like a home, not just a project.

The regulars noticed.

People came in just to say hi. Some dropped off old games or flyers they thought Ethan could use. One kid brought him a stack of Pokémon cards and said, "Trade you for free tokens."

Ethan gave him the tokens anyway and framed the Pikachu.

But no matter how far he advanced, one thing kept pulsing in the back of his mind.

The rent.

The bank.

The silence.

Until now.

The Call

It was late afternoon. The arcade was mostly empty—just one guy playing Donkey Kong near the window, the rhythmic doot-doot of pixelated barrels in the background.

Ethan was elbow-deep in the back of the Asteroids cabinet, replacing a cracked monitor bracket with a makeshift brace, when his phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket.

He almost ignored it—until he saw the screen.

Unknown Number – Crestview Bank & Trust

His stomach dropped. His fingers went cold.

He wiped them off, took a breath, and answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Ethan Reeves?" A clipped but polite voice. Female. Mid-40s, maybe.

"Yeah. That's me."

"This is Carol Jennings with Crestview Bank & Trust. I'm reaching out regarding the outstanding balance and account status connected to the property at 908 Maple Avenue—also known as 'Level Up Arcade.'"

The air suddenly felt heavier.

"Right. I've been expecting someone to reach out."

"We apologize for the delay. There were some internal reviews on account transfers and estate matters after your grandfather's passing. But we're ready to move forward."

Ethan swallowed. "Okay."

"We'd like to set up a meeting to discuss the financial status of the property, including any debt rollover, active obligations, and potential payment plans moving forward. Are you available later this week?"

"Uh—yeah," Ethan said. "I can do Thursday morning."

"Thursday at 10:30. I'll put you on the calendar. Please bring any records or business reports you have, especially regarding income, expenses, and operational plans."

"I… yeah, I can do that."

"Thank you, Mr. Reeves. We look forward to speaking with you."

Click.

The call ended.

Ethan stood in silence for a few seconds, staring at the screen.

Then, slowly, he sat back against the wall of the back room and let the weight settle on his chest.

It wasn't panic.

It wasn't doom.

But it was real.

The meeting was coming.

The moment when all the progress, all the games, all the repairs—would be tested.

No more avoiding it. No more guesswork.

He'd need to show them that this wasn't just a hobby or sentimental inheritance.

He had turned Level Up Arcade into a functioning business—and if he could prove it, maybe he could keep it.

Maybe he could keep everything.

Preparing for Reality

Later that night, Ethan sat behind the counter with his laptop open and notebook beside it. For the first time, he started building a real financial report.

Revenue from tokens and tournamentsExpenses for parts and repairsMarketing outreach from the Business Basics systemSocial media growth metricsFoot traffic trends before and after the tournament

It wasn't pretty. He was barely breaking even. But he wasn't losing money.

And now that the tournament buzz was bringing in new customers, he had a path forward.

He just had to convince the bank.

As he worked, the system chimed softly:

[New Quest: The Financial Frontier]

Objective: Prepare for meeting with the bank representative. Build a case for arcade sustainability.

Reward: Unlock Business Basics Level 3 | New Perk: "Investor Insight"

Ethan smirked.

"Alright," he muttered, "let's level up the business side."