Seeing his stats he felt exhilarated. He intelligence was almost 13x compared to his previous stat. He could feel everything in his surrounding . His eyes were exceptionally clear. He could see tiniest details in the room that others usually ignore. He felt his brain was in overdrive.
But he knew all of this was temporary and if he takes tablets regularly it could lead to serious side effect in his body. His body is not capable of handling brain with this much power.
'I have to increase my stats fast otherwise my body will collapse and have to earn money and buy Eiben Chemcorp before Carl Von Dan to reduce and eliminate the side effects NZT-48 make the effects permanent.', he thought
He quickly calmed himself down and sat on the chair.
"First, I need a plan."
His fingers tapped lightly on the table as thoughts rushed through his mind at incredible speed.
"Money first."
With his current intelligence, making money was not difficult. He took his laptop and opened it. Stock market… forex… online betting… business… countless options appeared in his mind.
"No… stock market is the safest and fastest," he muttered, staring at the laptop for a few seconds before leaning back.
"No… not yet. I need proper understanding… not assumptions."
With that, he closed it.
He changed into simple clothes he bought yesterday and left the hotel, walking at a normal pace and blending in with the crowd. After asking around casually, he found a public library and entered quietly. The place was calm and silent, filled with people minding their own business. No one paid attention to him, which was exactly what he wanted.
Moving along the shelves, his eyes scanned titles until he found what he needed.
"Finance… investing… trading…"
He picked a few books and settled into a quiet corner.
The moment he opened the first book, something clicked.
Concepts that once felt complicated now felt simple—almost obvious. His eyes sharpened as ideas connected effortlessly in his mind. Market structure, price movement, risk management—everything flowed together naturally.
Without realizing it, he leaned forward, turning pages faster—not out of impatience, but interest. A faint smile appeared on his face.
It felt… fun.
Like a kid who had just found something he truly enjoyed.
One book turned into another. Then another.
He wasn't just reading—he was understanding, absorbing, connecting.
Time passed.
He didn't notice people leaving or new ones arriving. The light outside shifted, but his focus never broke.
At some point, he paused and looked up, a faint sense of disconnect settling in.
He checked the clock.
He froze.
"…7 hours?"
He blinked, looking at the books in his hands, then back at the clock.
"I've been reading… for 7 hours?"
There was no fatigue. No strain.
Only a quiet sense of satisfaction.
He exhaled slowly.
"This is… dangerous."
Not because it hurt—
But because it felt too easy.
He closed the book carefully, returned everything, and walked out of the library without drawing any attention.
Back in his hotel room, he locked the door, drew the curtains, and sat down.
He opened his laptop again, but this time he didn't rush.
Instead, multiple tabs filled the screen—financial news, market reports, economic data.
"Dow Jones… NASDAQ… S&P 500…"
The numbers no longer looked random.
They made sense.
He opened a trading platform. The interface was outdated and cluttered, filled with raw data and rigid charts. It wasn't smooth or modern—but it didn't matter.
He adapted.
Carefully, he began analyzing stocks one by one. Earnings, trends, volatility—everything connected effortlessly, yet he remained cautious.
"I'll test first."
His first trade was small and deliberate.
Investment: $1000
The price moved as expected.
He exited calmly.
Profit: +$85
Second trade.
A different stock.
Investment: $1200
A brief fluctuation, then a steady rise.
He exited.
Profit: +$140
Third trade.
He increased slightly.
Investment: $1500
This time, the market dipped.
He didn't hesitate.
He cut early.
Loss: -$60
He leaned back slightly.
"Good… risk confirmed."
He continued trading, keeping his approach controlled. Small entries, clean exits.
Profit
Loss
Profit
Small loss
Time passed quietly as he maintained the same discipline, never rushing, never overcommitting.
Eventually, he stopped and checked the result.
Around $2300 profit.
He closed the platform immediately.
"This is enough."
Even though he knew he could make more—
He didn't continue.
"Fast money attracts attention."
He stood up, walked to the window, and slightly moved the curtain.
The world outside remained normal. Unaware.
He closed it again and returned to the table. Taking out a notebook, he began writing.
Day 1:
Small trades only
No repeated patterns
Spread activity
Avoid attention
He paused briefly, then added one last line.
Never get greedy
He closed the notebook and leaned back.
His gaze shifted toward the NZT pouch.
"No side effects… yet."
He picked it up, observing the transparent pill for a moment. A faint smile appeared on his face.
"It really is something else…"
He placed it back carefully.
He knew he couldn't rely on it forever. He had already seen how things could go wrong in the movie.
But for now—
Things were under control.
He stretched lightly, his body relaxed, his mind still sharp and clear. There was no fatigue, no discomfort—only a quiet sense of satisfaction.
"Not bad for a first day."
He walked to the window and slightly pulled the curtain aside. The city outside moved as usual—busy, unaware, ordinary.
A small sense of calm settled in him.
"Let's take it step by step."
He turned back, glancing at the laptop and the notebook on the table. Everything was falling into place—slowly, but steadily.
"Tomorrow… we go a little further."
He turned off the lights and lay down on the bed, his mind calm.
For now—
He was in control.