The Web Spins

The morning light seeped through Neo-Shanghai's haze, painting the city in muted gold. Jun Xi stood by his shattered window, the cool air brushing his face, his dark eyes glinting with focus. 76,091 Union Coins. That's where he'd landed after last night's NovaBit win and the system's 5% interest—3,623 UN stacked on his 72,468 profit. Day two of the new mission—turn 36,752 UN into 100,000 in seven days—and he was already three-quarters there. His lips curved into a faint, calculative smirk. The cash was flowing, but today wasn't about trading coins—it was about building the machine to do it for him.

He stepped to the counter, pouring instant coffee into his chipped mug, the steam rising as he sipped. 76,091 UN at 5% was 3,804 UN daily—serious now, enough to live on if he stopped. But stopping wasn't in his blood. The Advanced Coding Skill burned in his skull, a gift from the last mission, turning his mind into a forge for algorithms and logic. Last night, Lina had laid out the bot's specs—low-latency, market-scanning, auto-trading. Today, he'd breathe life into it. "System," he said, his voice steady, "progress check."

"Mission: Turn 36,752 UN into 100,000 UN in 7 days. Current funds: 76,091 UN. Time remaining: 5 days, 11 hours. Progress: 76.09%."

"Close," he murmured, tapping the phone against his palm. "Let's finish it early." He liked the rhythm—each win a thread in a web he was spinning, the system his loom. He grabbed his jacket and the new PC's box—still unopened from TechFix—and headed out. The street hummed: vendors flipped skewers, a kid darted by with a drone toy, hovercars whined above. Jun Xi aimed for TechFix, his pace deliberate, Lina's sharp smirk from last night replaying in his head. She'd committed—fully in now—and today they'd test the net.

The shop's sign buzzed as he stepped in, the air thick with solder and coffee. Lina was at the counter, tweaking a drone's wiring, her dark hair tied back, her jumpsuit smudged. She glanced up, her sharp eyes flicking to the box under his arm. "Morning, spider," she said, setting her tools down. "Brought the beast?"

Jun Xi grinned, setting the PC on the counter. "Yeah. Time to spin the web. You got the hardware ready?"

She nodded, sliding the box open and pulling out the sleek tower—matte black, blue vents glowing faintly. "Tuned it last night—low latency, high throughput, crypto-ready. You said you'd code the brains. Got it?"

"Working on it," he said, his tone smooth but firm. "Advanced skills kicked in—I can see the logic already. Market scanner, spike predictor, auto-trader. Give me a few hours, and it's live. You sync it?"

She crossed her arms, her gaze piercing. "Three hours—wiring's set, just need your code. What's the play—test it today?"

"Test and deploy," he said, leaning closer, his grin flirty. "I've got 76,000 burning a hole. Bot runs, we double it by tonight. 10% yours, like we said."

Her lips twitched, almost a smile. "You're a machine. Alright—code it here, I'll watch. Dinner's off—let's work late instead. Jade Noodle can wait."

"Deal," he said, holding her gaze. "Let's weave something tight." He cracked open the PC, plugging it into her workbench, and got to work. The screen flared to life—fast, clean, quantum-grade—and his fingers flew across the keys. The Advanced Coding Skill kicked in hard: algorithms snapped into place, loops optimized, prediction models sharpened. He built the bot in layers—scanning live exchanges, flagging spikes, executing trades—all in under two hours.

Lina watched, leaning over his shoulder, her breath warm on his neck. "That's insane," she muttered, pointing at a line. "You weighted the volatility index—how'd you know that?"

"Knack," he said, grinning without looking up. "And a little extra I won't bore you with. Ready to sync?"

She nodded, plugging in cables and tweaking settings. "Live in ten. Funds?"

He pulled up his phone: 76,091 UN. "76,000 in. Let's see what it catches."

The bot hummed online at 2 PM, its interface blinking as it scanned. NovaBit: 1.20 UN, up 15%. PulseToken: 0.14 UN, flat. StarFlux: 0.80 UN, up 50%. It locked on StarFlux, buying 95,000 coins with 76,000 UN. By 4 PM, StarFlux hit 1.20 UN—a 50% jump. The bot sold: 114,000 UN. Fees shaved it to 112,860 UN. Jun Xi laughed, low and sharp. "First catch," he said, leaning back.

Lina stared at the screen, her cool cracking. "112,000? In two hours? You're a freak."

"Your 10%'s 11,286," he said, his tone flirty. "Not bad for a day's work. Keep the net tight, Lina."

She smirked, nudging his shoulder. "You're trouble. Let's run it again tomorrow—tweak the weights."

"Always," he said, his eyes glinting. "To the web spinning."

She clinked a coffee mug against his. "To not getting snared."

Midnight chimed as he walked home, the system pinging: "Funds: 118,503 UN." Interest had added 5,643 UN to the bot's haul. He smirked into the night. The web was spinning—Lina, the bot, the cash. The next thread was already forming.