Chapter Eight: "The Game’s First Challenge"

Liam Anderson was shook—capital-S shook. As a Westfield local with a silver spoon practically welded to his mouth, he knew SkyHigh Estates like the back of his hand. Those villas started at $3 million, and the primo ones—like #8—hit $5 million. Most rich folks in town couldn't even sniff that price tag without fainting. And Ethan Black, some freshman nobody, had just waltzed in and bought one? Liam's brain blue-screened.

"No way," Abigail "Abby" Carter gasped, hand over her mouth. "Ethan, you're serious?"

"Dead serious," Ethan said, handing her the freshly signed contract like it was a grocery receipt.

Abby flipped it open, and Liam craned his neck to peek. One glance at "SkyHigh Estates, Villa #8" and he looked like he'd been hit by a truck. Real?! This kid had dropped millions like it was pocket lint? Liam's $7.8 million duplex—his big flex—suddenly felt like a starter condo next to Ethan's palace. His smug vibes evaporated faster than a puddle in a desert.

"Seven mil's chump change," he'd sneered at Ethan minutes ago, "Take a loan, peasant." Now? Ethan's casual villa drop was a slap so hard Liam's ego needed an ice pack. Clown? Me? he thought, spiraling. This wasn't flexing—this was volcanic wealth. Compared to Ethan, Liam was playing in the kiddie pool while the big dog swam with sharks.

He sighed, shoulders slumping, and shuffled off like a deflated balloon. Abby and Sophia Winters didn't stop him—his vibe was already mid-tier at best. The mood soured, so Sophia dipped too, but not before Abby strong-armed them into swapping numbers. "You're welcome," Abby winked at Ethan.

Once Sophia was gone, Abby rounded on her cousin. "Okay, spill. How'd you pull this off? I know our family—we're not exactly rolling in gold bars!"

Ethan shrugged, spinning his rehearsed tale. "Ever hear of crypto? I snagged some coins way back, forgot about 'em, and boom—recently checked, and they're worth a fortune."

It was smoother than "I won the lotto"—half-believable, at least. Abby squinted but bought it, relieved he wasn't robbing banks. "You're a millionaire now?" she muttered, dazed. "This is some Cinderella glow-up." She hugged him and bounced, still processing.

Back in his dorm, Ethan stashed the contract. He was dying to scope out Villa #8—maybe cannonball into that infinity pool—but time was tight. He rang his parents instead, dropping the crypto story again: "Hey, Mom, Dad—your boy's rich now. Villa, supercar, the works. Don't freak out!" Prevention better than panic, right?

Afternoon training wrapped, and Abby texted: "Sophia hauled water for you in the heat—least you can do is buy her dinner tonight. Thank her properly!" Still playing Cupid, relentless as ever. Ethan paused, mulling it over, when his phone buzzed—Monthly Pay $3,000, I'm the World's Richest had a notification.

He opened it, and bam—a task:

[Game Challenge: Agree to Abby's Plan and Take Sophia to Dinner]

[Rewards: 100% Ownership of PrimeBite Restaurant, 5 XP, 2 Points]

[Decline: -3 XP, -1 Point]

Ethan's eyes lit up. PrimeBite? Westfield's swankiest spot—think $50 steaks and lines out the door. Worth millions, easy. And 5 XP plus 2 points? That was frosting on the cake. Decline? Hell no—his XP was at zero; a minus would tank him below Lv1, locking the store. "No-brainer," he grinned, texting Abby: "Deal. Dinner's on."

"Atta boy!" Abby shot back. "I'll handle Sophia—leave the Ice Queen to me." Ethan smirked—Abby was clutch, always had his back. He'd been broke before, but now? Time to repay her. That x1000 Cashback Card from the newbie pack was begging to be used—$5,000 in, $5 million out. A slick gift for Abby was incoming.

Tonight's training was just campfire sing-alongs and bonding—lame. Ethan bailed, asking Jake to cover roll call. Dinner with Sophia—or, fine, snagging PrimeBite—beat karaoke with sweaty freshmen any day. "Just gratitude," he told himself. "Not about the restaurant. Nope."

Meanwhile, in the girls' dorm, Abby slid next to Sophia with a sly grin. "Game on," she whispered, plotting her next move.

Abby plopped beside Sophia, all casual. "Hey, Soph—Ethan's wiped from training. I was gonna treat him to a big dinner, but something came up. Can you sub in? Take him out, just you two. I'll catch up after I deal."

"Huh?" Sophia blinked, caught off guard. Alone with Ethan? She hesitated, but before she could nope out, their roommate Tara bounced over.

"You guys eating out tonight?" Tara asked, nosy as ever. "Me and some pals are hitting up a spot—join us!"

Sophia wavered, but Tara's puppy-dog energy won. "Fine," she sighed. Abby didn't mind—solo dinner might've been too much, too fast. She checked with Ethan: "Group dinner cool?"

"No sweat," he replied. Task just said "dinner with Sophia"—extras didn't void the prize. PrimeBite was the goal; romance could wait.

They set a meet-up spot, and Ethan ducked back to the dorm. He showered off the training grime, swapped camo for jeans, and grabbed the Ferrari keys. Time to roll.

He hit the spot just as Sophia arrived—perfect timing. Tara rocked up next with her crew: two guys, two girls. One dude, Bryce Tanner—pale, cocky, and loaded—spotted Ethan with Sophia and bristled. Another Sophia stan, he'd seen the water-delivery posts and seethed. Now, dinner together? His blood boiled. Gotta crush this punk, he schemed, striding over.

Sophia's face twitched when she saw Bryce. She'd dodged his vibes before—pushy rich kid syndrome. If Tara hadn't begged, she'd be gone. They did quick intros, and Bryce seized control. "I know this dope spot—PrimeBite. I'm a gold member there. Let's hit it!"

"Sounds good," Tara chirped. The group nodded—free food was free food.

Bryce clapped his hands. "Cool, I'll grab my car." Then he froze, fake-gasping. "Oh, shoot—six of us, but my ride only fits five. Ethan, buddy, you're outta luck. Take an Uber—I'll Venmo you ten bucks for it." He smirked, oozing smug.

Tara's crew shrugged—fair enough. But Sophia frowned. She was here to look out for Ethan, not ditch him. She opened her mouth to say she'd ride with him, but Ethan beat her to it. "Nah, I've got my own wheels. We're good."

Record scratch. Tara's gang blinked. "You've got a car?" a guy asked. Bryce was a trust-fund flexer—him having a ride made sense. But Ethan, a freshman, with wheels? "Big deal," Ethan shrugged, but inside he grinned—game perks ruled.

Most juniors didn't even have cars, let alone newbies. Bryce faltered—his "strand Ethan" play flopped. "Uh, sweet," he recovered, forcing a grin. "Go grab it then." Perfect, he thought. His $120,000 BMW 7 Series would roll up, Ethan'd pull some $20,000 junker, and boom—Sophia'd see who's boss.

They split—different lots. Bryce's spot was closer, and he peeled back in minutes, his sleek black BMW purring. He lowered the window, basking. "Fangirl time, peasants."

"Holy crap, a 7 Series?!" Tara's guy pal gushed. "Bryce, you're a legend!"

"How much?" a girl asked, starry-eyed.

"Eh, $120,000," Bryce drawled. "Pocket change."

Tara's crew lost it. A sophomore with a six-figure ride? Insane. Only Sophia stayed stone-faced—money didn't faze her. "Hop in," Bryce waved. They piled in, leaving the passenger seat open—prime real estate.

"Sophia, c'mon," Bryce cooed. She didn't budge. "I'll ride with Ethan, thanks."

Bryce's face fell. "What? Ethan's car can't be worth squat—probably a rusty Civic. My Beemer's way comfier!"

"Yeah, Soph," a girl chimed. "Bryce saved shotgun for you!"

"Ethan's ride's gotta be, like, $20K max," Bryce pressed. "Not fit for the Ice Queen!"

Before Sophia could argue, a low growl echoed. A cherry-red Ferrari SF90 cruised up, sleek as a panther, and parked dead ahead of Bryce's BMW. The door swung open, and Ethan stepped out, keys twirling like a movie star.

"Holy—Ferrari?!" Tara screeched. "A freakin' supercar on campus?!"

"I'm dreaming," her guy pal wheezed. "That's a $600,000 beast!"

Bryce's jaw dropped. His $120,000 BMW? A toy car now. Even he drooled—Ferrari vibes hit different. "Wish that was mine," he muttered, then caught himself. Tara's crew gaped, hypnotized.

Ethan leaned on the hood, casual as hell. "Ready, Sophia?"

She nodded, sliding into the passenger seat without a word. Bryce's crew stared, mute, as the SF90 roared off, leaving his BMW in the dust—literally and figuratively.

Ethan's phone buzzed mid-drive:

[Challenge Complete: Dinner With Sophia]

[Rewards: PrimeBite Ownership, 5 XP, 2 Points Deposited]

[Next Auto-Purchase: Tech Startup, $5.00 – Processing]

[Warning: Reality's Buzzing. Watch Out.]

A black SUV trailed them, headlights glinting. Ethan glanced in the rearview. "Security team?" he muttered. Or something worse?