Doubling Down

The morning sun cut through the haze over Neo-Shanghai, painting the city in streaks of gold and gray. From Jun Xi's wrecked apartment, the view was less poetic—shattered glass caught the light, the damp mattress stank of mildew, and the burned-out PC loomed like a silent accusation. He stood by the counter, sipping instant coffee from his chipped mug, his dark eyes locked on his phone. 3,742 Union Coins. That's where he'd landed after last night's PulseToken win and the system's 5% interest—178 UN stacked on his 3,564 profit. Day three of five, and he was closing in on 10,000 UN, but his mind was already past the mission. He wasn't here to scrape by—he was here to dominate.

He set the mug down, the bitter burn lingering, and ran the numbers. 3,742 UN at 5% was 187 UN daily—steady, but slow. Trading was the rocket fuel: 1,500 UN had become 2,250 in a day, then 2,400 had jumped to 3,564. If he doubled down today, pushed 3,700 into the right coin, he could hit 7,000 by nightfall. With interest, he'd be at 7,400 by midnight—over the mission goal with two days to spare. His lips curved into a faint smirk. "System," he said, his tone calm but laced with intent, "what's my progress?"

"Mission: Reach 10,000 UN in 5 days. Current funds: 3,742 UN. Time remaining: 3 days, 11 hours. Progress: 37.42%."

"Halfway there," he murmured, tapping the phone against his palm. "Let's blow past it." He liked the system's precision—clean, no fluff. It was his creation, after all, even if the lightning had juiced it into something more. He pulled up the crypto exchange, scrolling with purpose. PulseToken was still climbing—0.13 UN now—but the hype felt shaky, ready to crash. He needed fresh blood. His eyes landed on VortexCoin: 0.15 UN per coin, up 30% in six hours, forums buzzing with rumors of a big pump. Volatile as hell, but that's where he thrived.

He leaned against the wall, the damp chill biting through his hoodie, and crunched the math. 3,700 UN would buy 24,666 VortexCoins. A 50% spike—doable, given the momentum—would net 5,550 UN by afternoon. A 100% jump, if he timed it right, would push 7,400 UN. "High stakes," he muttered, his smirk widening. "My kind of game." He tapped in the order—3,700 UN, leaving 42 UN as a buffer—and watched the transaction clear. 24,666 coins, his now. "Ride or die," he said, pocketing the phone.

He couldn't sit on it—not with this much in play—so he grabbed a dry jacket and headed out. The street was alive: vendors flipped dumplings on griddles, a kid zipped by on a hoverboard, drones whirred overhead. Jun Xi kept his hood up, his pace steady, aiming for TechFix. Lina's voice echoed in his head from last night—sharp, skeptical, but hooked. She'd agreed to start small, fix his tech, but he'd seen the spark in her eyes. She wanted in. He just had to reel her closer.

The shop's sign buzzed as he stepped inside, the air thick with solder and coffee. Lina was at the counter, hunched over a circuit board, her dark hair tied back. She glanced up, her sharp eyes flicking over him. "Back already?" she said, setting her tools down. "Thought you'd be counting your crypto millions by now."

Jun Xi grinned, leaning on the counter. "Working on it. VortexCoin's my horse today—3,700 UN in. Should double by tonight if I'm right."

Her eyebrows shot up, but she kept her cool. "3,700? You were at 3,500 last night. What, did you sleep in a money printer?"

"Something like that," he said, his tone smooth. "Call it a knack. You got that PC sourced yet?"

She nodded, stepping to a shelf and pulling down a sleek black tower—matte finish, glowing blue vents. "Quantum-ready, 5,000 UN. Fast as hell—won't choke on your 'high-risk projects.' Delivery's tomorrow unless you've got cash now."

"Tomorrow's fine," he said, eyeing the rig. "I'll have 7,000 by tonight—5,000 for this, 2,000 to play with. You sure you don't want in on the action, Lina?"

She crossed her arms, studying him. "You're either a genius or a gambler. What's the real pitch? You said tech and money—give me more."

He straightened, his grin fading to something sharper, more deliberate. "I'm building a machine—tech, finance, whatever I can grab. Started with nothing three days ago, made 3,700 already. I've got… tools you don't need to know about yet. I need someone who can handle the hardware, maybe the systems later. You fix this PC, you're in. Profits split—10% of what you help me make. Scale's coming fast."

She tilted her head, her gaze piercing. "Tools, huh? Mysterious and cocky. Alright, I'll bite—PC's yours tomorrow, and I'll keep your tech running. But I want numbers, not promises. Show me 7,000 tonight, and I'm sold."

"Done," he said, holding her gaze. "Dinner again—8 PM, same place. I'll bring the proof."

She smirked, leaning closer. "You're pushing your luck, Jun Xi. Don't crash before you fly."

"Never," he shot back, his grin returning. "See you at 8." He left with a nod, her eyes on his back, and stepped into the street with a quiet thrill building.

By 2 PM, VortexCoin hit 0.22 UN—a 46% jump. His 24,666 coins were worth 5,426 UN. He let it ride, checking again at 5 PM: 0.31 UN. A 106% spike. 7,646 UN. He sold, the funds landing at 7,569 UN after fees. A low laugh slipped out, his pulse steady despite the rush. "Doubled and then some," he murmured, pocketing the phone. Midnight would add 378 UN, pushing him to 7,947—nearly 8,000 in three days.

He cleaned up at home—black shirt, fresh jeans—and hit Jade Noodle by 7:50 PM. Lina walked in at 8 sharp, jacket swapped for a dark sweater, her hair loose. She slid into the seat, her eyes locking on his. "Well?" she said, pouring tea. "Show me."

He slid his phone across, the bank app open: 7,569 UN. "Told you. Doubled it. PC's paid—rest is fuel."

She stared, her cool cracking for a split second. "You're insane," she said, handing it back. "And maybe brilliant. Alright, I'm in—tech's mine. What's next?"

He leaned back, sipping tea, his grin flirty but sharp. "Next, we scale. You keep the gears turning—I'll handle the money. Deal?"

"Deal," she said, clinking her cup against his. "Don't make me regret this, Jun Xi."

"Never," he replied, his eyes glinting. The system hummed in his mind, and the night felt electric. He was doubling down—and winning.