The Miami night buzzed with neon lights, distant music, and the constant sound of car engines. But Daniel wasn't thinking about the nightlife, or the flashy clubs, or even the thousand-dollar champagne bottles he saw in movies.
He was thinking about one thing: survival.
And maybe the million dollars sitting in his bank account.
But mostly survival.
"Okay, System," Daniel muttered, walking down Collins Avenue with his worn-out suitcase trailing behind him, "you gave me money… I ate… I tested the cash… but I'm not stupid. This could vanish tomorrow."
A soft digital ding echoed in his mind. The floating screen appeared again, hovering beside him like a persistent mosquito.
[Host User: Daniel, Status: Active]
[Your caution is… statistically Brazilian. Expected.]
Daniel froze mid-step. "Wait… did you just—" His eyes widened. "You talk now?"
[Correction: I have always been capable of interactive dialogue. I simply waited for cognitive processing to reach minimal functionality.]
Daniel blinked. "What?"
[You were too shocked earlier. Understandable. Limited processing during emotional overload.]
Daniel rubbed his face, groaning. "Great. A sarcastic System."
[Technically: Efficient. Sarcasm is optional. Would you prefer neutral tone? Or perhaps Brazilian Portuguese colloquialisms?]
Daniel smirked despite himself. "You speak Portuguese?"
[I speak all major human languages. But English is default for global capitalism.]
"Touché…" Daniel sighed, flagging down a cab.
He wasn't risking public transport tonight. Too exposed. And he definitely wasn't booking a five-star hotel yet.
Rule of being Brazilian: when life hands you a miracle, don't tempt fate by acting rich overnight.
The cab rolled up. The driver, a middle-aged Cuban with salsa music blasting, eyed Daniel's clothes skeptically.
"Where to?" he asked.
Daniel hesitated, then turned to the glowing screen only he could see. "Suggestions? Somewhere… safe. Cheap. But not rat-infested."
[Processing… Parameters set: temporary lodging, low risk, moderate price point, no vermin.]
A map popped up beside the screen, highlighting a small, decent-looking three-star hotel a few blocks away.
Daniel read the name: Ocean Breeze Inn.
"Let's go there," he told the driver, climbing in.
As the cab sped through the Miami streets, Daniel's mind raced.
"Alright, System… explain. Who made you? What's the catch? Why me?"
[Origin classified. Catch: none. You were selected based on… statistical misery and potential for comedic outcomes.]
Daniel snorted. "Misery? You mean being broke, lost, and eating noodles in a hostel?"
[Correct. High adversity levels. Ideal candidate profile.]
"And the 'comedic outcomes' part?"
[Empirical data suggests Brazilians in foreign environments generate high humor value.]
Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. "So I'm entertainment for the universe now?"
[Perspective-based. You gain wealth. Observers enjoy narrative value.]
The cab pulled up to the Ocean Breeze Inn. Small, old, but clean enough. Blue neon sign flickering slightly.
Daniel paid the driver with crisp bills from his recent ATM test. The money still worked. No police knocking, no sudden glitches.
The System hovered beside him as he approached the front desk.
The receptionist, a tired woman with a name tag reading Julia, barely looked up.
"One night? Two beds?" she asked, eyeing his suitcase.
"Just me," Daniel said, handing over cash. "And… uh… Wi-Fi password?"
She slid over a keycard and scribbled the code. "Room 312. Elevator's to your left."
Daniel grabbed the key, dragging his suitcase through the small lobby, heart pounding less now, but his brain still wired.
The elevator creaked its way up to the third floor. Faded carpet, peeling wallpaper — but no visible rats. Acceptable.
Inside the modest room, he locked the door, double-checked the windows, then collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The System hovered beside him, patiently.
"Alright," Daniel exhaled, "let's break this down."
[Proceeding to information dump mode.]
"Good… explain everything."
[Summary: Shenhao Login System. Purpose: incremental wealth, lifestyle upgrades, and skill acquisition limited to non-physical enhancements.]
Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Define non-physical."
[No super strength. No flying. No illegal biological alterations. Only practical skills: languages, knowledge, financial acumen, aesthetic grooming.]
"Aesthetic grooming?"
[Example: Improved physical appearance within realistic human parameters. Hair quality, skin health, dental perfection.]
Daniel snorted. "So no muscles overnight… but I can look like I actually sleep and use moisturizer?"
[Affirmative. External improvement boosts social capital.]
Daniel chuckled, the tension easing. "Alright… practical. I like practical."
He pulled out his phone again. Balance unchanged.
"So tomorrow… another million?"
[Correct. Daily login required. Consecutive days yield cumulative rewards.]
"And if I miss one?"
[Streak resets. Start over. First reward repeats.]
Daniel groaned. "Brutal… but fair."
He lay there, staring at the ceiling fan spinning slowly.
It was insane. Money falling from digital skies. A talkative, weirdly sassy System. His life turning upside down overnight.
But… this wasn't fantasy. No glowing muscles. No punching through walls. Just cold, hard cash… and his own brain.
The best weapon a Brazilian had.
And trust? That would take time.
"Okay, System," Daniel whispered, eyes heavy with exhaustion, "tomorrow we see if you keep your promises."
[System operational. Rest recommended. You appear… mildly pathetic from sleep deprivation.]
Daniel laughed softly. "Yeah, yeah… thanks for the honesty."
He closed his eyes, the hum of the city fading, the weight of uncertainty pressing down.
But for the first time in months… hope flickered.
And tomorrow?
Another million reasons to believe.