The vibration of his phone woke Ethan up again that morning. Groaning, he rolled over and grabbed it from the bedside table, squinting at the blaring screen. He had slept off,
Missed Calls: 27
Unread ssages: 53
He stared at the numbers in disbelief. The caller ID was filled with nas he hadn't seen in months — or in so cases, years.
People he'd thought had forgotten about him entirely. Old coworkers. College friends. Even a few neighbors from his previous apartnt complex.
And then there were the more personal ones.
His mother. His father. His sister.
Ethan let out a heavy sigh, tossing the phone back onto the table. It vibrated again, buzzing with another incoming text. But the notifications stopped as he had put it on airplane mode.
He didn't even bother looking at it. Instead, he grabbed the System phone sitting next to his personal one.
"Let's see if you've got sothing for today," he muttered to the device as he unlocked it.
The screen lit up, but for the first few monts, there was nothing. Just the usual interface, clean and straightforward, showing him a summary of his current investnts and progress.
No notifications.
He leaned back against the headboard, exhaling slowly.
The silence from the System was unusual; it always had sothing for him. Just as he was about to set it aside, a new notification popped up.
[New Notification: Apartnt Complex Offer]
[A potential buyer has expressed interest in purchasing your property. Pending further discussion.]
Ethan's eyes widened. He sat upright, rereading the ssage.
He had worked tirelessly on the renovation of that apartnt complex, turning it from a near-derelict structure into a livable space.
And while he had initially planned to keep it as a rental property, the System had guided him to list it with a real estate company.
He didn't expect interest to roll in so soon.
Excitent mixed with a hint of nerves as he considered the possibilities. If the buyer was serious and the offer was good, this could be his first big step into the real estate market.
But before he could focus on the opportunity, his personal phone buzzed again. Ethan groaned, grabbing it and flipping off Airplane Mode.
The screen imdiately lit up with a flood of notifications.
A call ca through instantly.
The number was unfamiliar, but sothing told him it was important. He hesitated for a mont before answering.
"Hello?" he said cautiously.
"Mr. Ethan Grey?" a polite, slightly impatient voice asked.
"That's ."
"This is Darren Lang, from Lang Real Estate. I've been trying to get through to you regarding your apartnt complex. I understand you're the owner?"
Ethan sat up straighter. "Yes, that's correct."
"Good," Darren said, relief evident in his tone. "I'm calling on behalf of a client who's very interested in the property. He's eager to et and discuss the details. Are you available today?"
Ethan glanced at the clock. It was just past 9 AM. He had no major plans for the day, and this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
"Yeah, I'm available," he said.
"Excellent. Let's et at Gardenia Bistro at 11 AM. It's not far from downtown. Does that work for you?"
"Sounds good."
"Perfect. I'll inform my client. See you then."
As the call ended, Ethan found himself staring at the phone, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. This was it — the kind of mont he'd been working toward. Yet there was also a lingering apprehension.
What if the offer wasn't as good as he hoped? What if this deal wasn't the stepping stone he thought it would be?
He shook his head, banishing the doubts.
'Focus on the positives, Ethan. You've got this.'
An hour and a half later, Ethan parked his bike outside Gardenia Bistro. The restaurant was a cozy yet upscale spot, known for its quiet ambiance and excellent coffee.
He adjusted the collar of his shirt, making sure he looked presentable before stepping inside.
The host greeted him with a polite smile. "Good morning, sir. Do you have a reservation?"
"I'm eting soone here — Darren Lang," Ethan replied.
The host nodded. "Right this way."
Ethan followed, his nerves settling slightly as they walked toward a table near the window. Waiting there was a sharply dressed man in his late thirties, his posture relaxed but professional.
"Mr. Grey," Darren said, standing to shake Ethan's hand. "Good to et you."
"Likewise," Ethan replied, his grip firm.
Darren gestured to the seat across from him. "Please, have a seat. My client will be joining us shortly."
Ethan nodded, sitting down. A waiter approached to take their drink orders, and soon enough, Darren began making small talk.
He was personable, clearly experienced in his field, and Ethan found himself easing into the conversation.
Minutes later, the client arrived — a man in his mid-forties, dressed in a tailored suit and exuding an air of quiet confidence.
He introduced himself as Michael Hart, a businessman looking to expand his portfolio.
The discussion quickly shifted to the apartnt complex.
"I've seen the property myself," Michael said. "It's clear you've put a lot of effort into the renovations. The layout, the location — it's all very promising."
Ethan felt a surge of pride at the complint. "Thank you. It's been a long process, but I'm glad it's finally coming together."
Michael nodded, pulling out a folder. "Here's what I'm proposing."
He laid out the details — a competitive offer that exceeded Ethan's initial expectations. As the numbers were discussed, Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of validation.
By the end of the eting, Michael pulled out the papers from his suitcases - the ones that would show that he was the new owner of the place, as long as Ethan signed.
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