The world had a strange smell at 6 a.m.—
Stale concrete. Burnt coffee. Distant ambition.
Ethan jogged through the skeletal remains of a forgotten city block, where cracked sidewalks whispered of old failures and flickering neon signs buzzed like dying insects. His breath fogged in front of him, rhythmic and controlled. Every step was deliberate. His shoes were cheap, the soles half-eaten by use—but they hit the ground like they belonged there.
He passed a closed pawn shop. The barred windows. A collapsed bike rack. A teenager sleeping under cardboard.
None of it mattered.
(This isn't my end. It's my opening scene.)
Every shiver from the morning air carved clarity into his bloodstream. He wasn't just back in time. He was back armed. Markets. Movements. Weak points. Explosions. He knew which apps to bet on, which side hustles to ignore, when the crypto crash would wipe out half the population's savings, and how to rebuild from the ashes.
This time, he wouldn't survive the timeline.
He'd dominate it.
---
Back at his apartment—more like a hollow cube made of regret and plywood—Ethan didn't shower, didn't lie down.
He cracked open the battered laptop like it was a vault.
Let's build the first seed.
He logged into QuickByte, the obscure freelance platform that would triple in valuation in three years and become the go-to remote marketplace. Last time, he mocked the hustle. This time?
You don't build a pyramid from the peak. You start in the dirt.
He created his profile:
> ETHAN V.
"High-speed content writer | 5+ years experience"
Fast. Strategic. Results-focused.
It was a lie. But also... not.
The version of him that wrote billion-dollar pitch decks and war-room speeches had five years of blood behind him. Just not yet.
He uploaded three service offers:
"SEO Blog Posts That Actually Convert"
"Business Strategy Content From Someone Who's Lived It"
"Viral Threads for Twitter Growth (Ghostwritten + Guaranteed)"
Then he switched tabs. Not to waste time. To weaponize it.
A blank Notion doc. Ten micro-thread titles:
"How to Manipulate Perception Without Saying a Word."
"Why 95% of Men Stay Broke (And How to Exit the Loop)."
"The $0-to-$10k Rulebook No One Taught You."
His fingers flew. No breaks. No distractions. No edits.
This world rewards illusion. But I bring clarity.
Let's make noise.
---
Later That Day — College Campus
The lecture hall smelled like carpet glue, unwashed ambition, and Axe body spray.
Rows of students sat slouched like defeated soldiers. The professor, half-alive, read slides on microeconomics with a voice that could sterilize passion.
Ethan sat dead-center, one leg crossed, notebook open—but he wasn't writing formulas.
He was scanning.
There she was. Liora.
Two rows ahead. Same vanilla perfume. Same laugh he once chased like an idiot.
And beside her: Jason. The guy who'd step in when Ethan broke down. When rent was late, when the job hunt stalled, when life screamed you're average.
Jason was the human version of a placeholder: a man with biceps, no bite, and aspirations that went no further than entry-level management.
This time, Ethan didn't feel jealousy.
He felt precision.
(Become the man she regrets. The one too far ahead to ever look back.)
---
After class, Jason approached.
"Yo, Ethan. Still working nights at K&G?"
Ethan smiled, calm and polite. "For now. But I'm working on something else."
Jason chuckled. "Same, man. Just grinding 'til we make it, right?"
Plastic words. Fake spark. No real burn.
"Sure," Ethan said aloud.
(You won't even register on the radar, brother.)
---
Evening
No Netflix. No gaming. No scrolling. That was the old Ethan.
This Ethan trained.
45 minutes of pushups, squats, dips between dining chairs. Failure wasn't the enemy—it was the plan.
Then: cold shower.
Then: laptop.
By 10 p.m., three messages hit his QuickByte inbox:
Two accepted blog offers.
One wanted a business strategy post in 24 hours.
His first income in this timeline.
Small money.
Big momentum.
He opened his notebook and wrote, with military precision:
---
DAY 2 SUMMARY
Calories: 1200 (chicken, rice, water)
Training: Full body (intensity 6/10)
Reading: The Psychology of Money — 30 pages
Work: 3 gigs landed. 2 active.
Action Taken: Built Twitter auto-post script. Scheduled 3-day rollout.
Mood: Sharper. No mercy for distractions.
---
He paused, pen still, eyes locked on the reflection in the cracked mirror.
A face younger than he remembered, but eyes older than this world deserved.
> "Outliers aren't born," he whispered. "They're made in silence.
Then they take everything."
He snapped the notebook shut.
Tomorrow, he'd begin the real hunt.
He remembered a name—a low-key entrepreneur who, in five years, would quietly go from mid-tier coding bootcamps to founding one of the most powerful backend AI tools in Europe. Most overlooked him back then.
Ethan wouldn't.
This time, I won't ask for help.
I'll bring value.
Then make him mine before the world even knows his name.
And if not?
I'll become him.
Then bury him.