After leaving David's place, Tyler immediately made his way to the store where the trucker had purchased the lottery ticket in his past life.
As Tyler walked down the road, he couldn't help but look around, subtly observing everyone and everything around him.
For someone who had come from than a decade in the future, and one that is advanced in technology than this, the difference was staggering.
Just stepping onto the sidewalk felt like stepping into a time capsule.
The streets were quieter, not because they were empty, but because the world hadn't yet drowned in endless streams of content.
No one had their AirPods plugged in. Everyone still looked present, as they didn't have their heads buried into their phones.
The cars on the road were bulky and loud. Gas-powered engines that coughed smoke when starting up, not the sleek, near-silent EVs he was used to seeing on the road, in the future.
The average person here still manually rolled down windows, still got annoyed when the check engine light came on and they couldn't ask an AI what's wrong.
The fashion alone was jarring. Unlike in the future where anything was being called fashion, here it was just baggy jeans, graphic tees with loud fonts, livestrong bracelets, skate shoes.
The height of rebellion was a lip piercing and the scent of cheap body spray.
The phones? He nearly laughed. Most people were using chunky slide phones or flip phones—clacking them shut like they were cool.
A few privileged kids had iPhones, but even those looked like bricks compared to what he knew was coming.
In this time period, people actually talked to each other. Kids connected with each other, by playing basketball in the streets, or sat on porches drinking store-brand soda, trading Pokémon cards instead of having their faces buried in their laptops or PCs, trading crypto or streaming both useful and useless content.
As for the stores? It was just old brick stores, with dusty "Help Wanted" signs, and that same tired-looking man always sweeping outside his bodega—a man Tyler remembered had done that every day until he passed in 2017.
Everything was simpler now.
And that simplicity made it dangerous—because Tyler remembered exactly how much the world would change. And exactly how much it would hurt before it got there.
As for Tyler, he was actually unbothered about all these. To the current him, what he was more concerned about was getting to the corner store and buying that lottery ticket, while also getting grocery at the same time.
It's not his place to be concerned about what may or may not be. He has far more important things to worry about.
His younger brother is hungry and waiting for him at home. He needs the winning from the lottery, so that he can take care of the house and relieve his mother of the crippling burden on her shoulder.
And there's also the $10,000 he urgent needs to unlock a Core knowledge branch before the 72 hours time limit for the One-time 99.9% discount runs out.
After hearing the original cost for unlocking a Core knowledge branch, he understood that the $10,000 will revert to $10 million.
And he prefers he looks for the $10,000, as it's easier than looking for$10 million.
The truth is that Tyler wouldn't be too bothered with the system, if it wasn't for the fact that there's a high chance that in the near future, he could unlock a Primary knowledge branch, with Specialised Knowledges that could help him cure his mother.
Even without the system, he still has knowledge about the future, which he can use to make tons of money and build his empire.
Even if he wants to be passive, all he just needs to do is to throw money into stocks that become highly valuable in the future, also throw some money into BTC and other cryptocurrency, and dump money into real estate.
By just doing this, Tyler would set himself up for life and won't have to worry about anything at all, as he starts enjoying retirement from a very early age.
But Tyler doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to be passive. He wants to grab every single opportunity by the neck and milk it to the very last possible dollar. Nothing's ever going to go to waste with him.
....
Tyler finally arrived at the entrance of the corner store. It was a small, cramped shop wedged between a dry cleaner and a shuttered laundromat.
The hand-painted sign above the door read "Tony's Market", the red paint half-faded from years of sun and neglect.
He pushed the door open, and the chime above it let out a tired jingle.
Inside, the store looked exactly like he remembered—narrow aisles, low ceilings, dusty shelves, and that distinct mix of old mop water, overripe bananas, and motor oil from the fridge compressor humming behind the soda cooler.
A tiny TV mounted above the counter played some fuzzy local news, the volume too low to be heard over the hum of the fridge.
Behind the counter stood a heavyset man in a sleeveless undershirt and an unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear—Tony, the store's owner. He looked up from a lottery scratcher of his own.
"Afternoon, kid," he grunted. "What can I get ya?"
"Good afternoon, Tony," Tyler greeted, walking up to the counter. "I came to pick something up."
Tony raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly over the counter, scanning Tyler's hands.
"No backpack or list?"
Tyler offered a polite smile.
"Actually, I'd like a Gold Rush lottery ticket. One of the $50 ones."
Tony blinked. Then blinked again.
"You sure?" he asked, standing up straighter. "You know that's not a scratch-off, right? It's a draw ticket. Big money, long odds."
"I know."
Tony squinted at him, in both curiosity and suspicion.
"You even old enough to buy a ticket?"
"No," Tyler said flatly. "But it's for my mom."
Tony narrowed his eyes. He was trying to read the kid in front of him but there was something about the way Tyler looked—his expression blank, mature, eyes dead-serious—that seem out of the ordinary.
He glanced at the wall clock, sighed, and pulled open the plexiglass drawer beneath the lottery display.
He pressed a few buttons on the lottery terminal, then fed in the $50 and printed the ticket. It slid out with a mechanical click.
He handed it over, but didn't let go just yet.
"Hope your mom wins."
"She will," Tyler smiled.
The chances of him winning the $50,000 aren't 100% but they are more than 80%, because he has done everything in the right sequence, just like the trucker had narrated it in his past life.
Tony finally released the slip. Tyler folded it carefully and tucked it into his pocket like a sacred object.
With that done, he turned and made his way to the first aisle.
....
The store didn't have much, but it had enough. Tyler moved through the cramped aisles like a man on a mission.
He grabbed a loaf of white bread and a jar of peanut butter. It was a cheap one, but it was filling and filled with protein.
Then came the instant ramen, a half gallon of milk, and a pack of eggs. He also found a bundle of bananas, and a small bag of rice.
For something sweet, he tossed in a box of knockoff cookies and a chocolate bar for Devin. He added more to his list, making sure to get all the necessities that the $50 would cover.
At the counter, Tony raised an eyebrow again as Tyler carefully stacked each item.
"Stocking up, huh?"
"Trying," Tyler said, handing over the second $50.
The register beeped and flickered. Total: $49.82.
"Thanks, Tony," Tyler said, as he pocketed the 18 cents in change.
"Tell your mom I said hi. And… good luck." Tony waved him off.
Tyler nodded again and left the store, a plastic bag in each hand, and the lottery ticket safe in his pocket.