Liam Torres had never considered himself a gambling man. In his previous life, he'd placed the occasional weekend accumulator, but nothing serious. In this life, he'd analyzed too many matches, seen too many statistical anomalies to believe in gambling as anything but a tax on hope.
Now, three days after the system activation, he sat in a small café near Plaza Mayor, laptop open before him, multiple browser tabs displaying various betting exchanges. On his screen, the live in-play odds for a Wimbledon quarterfinal match flickered and changed with every point.
Djokovic versus Tsonga. Third set. Djokovic leading by two sets to love, but Tsonga had just broken serve to lead 4-3 in the third.
Perfect conditions for a test.
"Window Five," Liam thought, focusing on the match streaming on a small window in the corner of his screen.
Reality shifted subtly. He watched as Tsonga consolidated his break, holding serve to lead 5-3. Then Djokovic, serving to stay in the set, double-faulted at 30-40. Tsonga took the third set 6-3.
Reality snapped back. The score read 4-3, with Tsonga about to serve.
Liam's fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard. He placed €500 on Tsonga to win the third set at odds of 2.1. Then he waited, sipping his espresso as if he didn't have half a month's rent riding on a tennis match.
Five minutes later, as Djokovic's double fault sailed long on set point, Liam closed his eyes briefly. €550 profit. Just as he'd seen.
He'd spent the past seventy-two hours testing the limits of his ability. The rules were consistent: he could see exactly five minutes ahead, the vision was always accurate unless he intervened to change events, and he could use it as often as he wanted. No cooldown period, no apparent side effects beyond a slight headache after extended use.
It was the perfect edge for in-play betting.
Liam opened Excel and added the latest result to his spreadsheet. This made seventeen successful bets over three days, with a total profit of €8,640. Not life-changing money, but a validation of his approach.
His phone buzzed with a text from Miguel: *Any news on the Gijón application?*
Liam hesitated before responding: *Not pursuing it. Other opportunities have emerged.*
He felt a twinge of guilt at the vagueness, but what could he say? *Sorry, Miguel, I've discovered I can see the future, so coaching can wait while I make millions betting on sports?*
The tennis match ended with Djokovic rallying to win in four sets, exactly as Liam had foreseen when he checked the full match outcome. He closed that tab and opened another for an Argentine Primera División match about to kick off.
A waitress approached his table. "Another espresso, señor?"
"Yes, please. And the Wi-Fi password has changed?"
"*Madrileño2011*," she replied with a smile. "You're becoming a regular."
Liam nodded politely. He'd been rotating between three different cafés, using different devices and betting accounts. Patterns were dangerous. Winning consistently attracted attention.
As he waited for the football match to begin, he reviewed his notes. After three days of systematic testing, he'd identified the optimal scenarios for his ability:
1. Tennis during service games (where breaks caused dramatic odds shifts)
2. Football during final fifteen minutes (goals worth more)
3. Basketball in the fourth quarter (momentum swings)
4. Horse racing in the final furlong (impossible to predict conventionally)
He'd been methodical, scientific—treating his supernatural ability as just another analytical tool. The tactical analyst in him couldn't help categorizing, optimizing, finding the edge.
The new espresso arrived as the Argentine match kicked off. Liam toggled to that browser tab, analyzed the opening exchanges, then activated Window Five.
A goalless five minutes. Not worth betting on.
He tried again at the fifteen-minute mark. Still nothing significant.
Then, at the twenty-minute mark: a red card for the home team's defender following a reckless tackle.
Back in real-time, Liam quickly placed €1,000 on the red card occurring at odds of 15.0. Three minutes later, as the defender lunged in desperately, cleats showing, Liam's betting account balance increased by €15,000.
His largest win yet.
A notification popped up on his screen: "Withdrawal Limit Reached - Please verify identity for further withdrawals."
Liam frowned. This was the third account to hit such a limit. He was winning too consistently, too methodically. Even spreading bets across different platforms, the pattern would eventually become clear.
He needed to diversify his approach.
Opening a new browser tab, he navigated to a cryptocurrency exchange. Bitcoin had been on his radar in his previous life, though he'd never invested. In this life, with his current knowledge, it represented another opportunity—one with fewer restrictions and greater anonymity.
"Sir? Excuse me, sir."
Liam looked up to see the café manager standing beside his table.
"Is there a problem?" Liam asked.
"The other customers have complained about you monopolizing the Wi-Fi. We have a one-hour limit during peak times."
A polite fiction. Liam had seen the manager watching him suspiciously for the past hour. Too many screens, too intense a focus. He looked like what he was—a professional gambler.
"Of course. My apologies." Liam closed his laptop and placed €20 on the table, far more than his espressos cost. "Thank you for your hospitality."
Outside, the July heat hit him like a physical force. Liam walked briskly toward his apartment, mind racing. He needed a better system, a more sustainable approach. Betting exchanges were too visible, too regulated.
His phone buzzed again. This time, an email from his bank: "Unusual Account Activity Detected."
Perfect.
Back in his apartment, Liam paced the small living room, thinking through his options. The ability was everything he could have hoped for, but the execution needed refinement.
He opened his laptop again and created a new document titled "The Algorithm" at the top.
For the next four hours, Liam worked without interruption, mapping out a comprehensive plan that would leverage his ability while minimizing detection. By midnight, he had outlined a multi-layered approach:
1. Create three separate financial identities with different banks
2. Establish cryptocurrency accounts for quick fund movement
3. Focus on high-volatility markets where predictions seemed plausible
4. Never withdraw large sums simultaneously
5. Develop a legitimate-appearing income source as cover
It wasn't just about winning anymore. It was about winning intelligently.
As he reviewed the document, another thought struck him. Why limit himself to sports betting? His ability would work just as well with financial markets—stocks, options, forex. Five minutes was an eternity in day trading.
He added another section to the document:
*FINANCIAL APPLICATIONS:*
*- Day trading during earnings reports*
*- Cryptocurrency flash movements*
*- Options trading during Federal Reserve announcements*
*- Forex during economic data releases*
The possibilities expanded with every line he wrote. With careful management, he could turn his €18,000 into millions within weeks, not months.
Liam closed the laptop and walked to the window, looking out at Madrid's glittering skyline. In one of those buildings, a football match played on television. In another, a stock trader prepared for tomorrow's market opening. In a third, perhaps, someone placed a bet on tomorrow's horse race.
None of them knew what was coming.
He did.
The realization brought both exhilaration and a strange loneliness. This power, this "Window Five," separated him from everyone else. He existed in a different relationship with time itself.
His phone buzzed. Another text from Miguel: *You okay, amigo? Not like you to dismiss a coaching opportunity.*
Liam stared at the message for a long moment before responding: *Never been better. Trust me, Miguel. Everything's about to change.*
He set down the phone and returned to his laptop, opening a trading platform registration page. Tomorrow, he would start implementing The Algorithm. Within weeks, he would have the resources to pursue his true goal.
Because seeing five minutes into the future was impressive. But using that knowledge to revolutionize football—to become the greatest manager the game had ever seen—that was worth far more than money.
The countdown had begun.