POV: Max
Thursday morning. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and for the first time in what felt like years, I didn't wake up to the stress of survival.
First thing I did — before I even rolled out of bed — was grab my phone to check NovaFrame.
Two thousand downloads.
I blinked. Refreshed. Still two thousand.
My jaw dropped a little.
Sure, I wasn't making money off it — NovaFrame was listed for free — but that wasn't the point. I needed mass usage. KP was the prize. My prize. And even though 2,000 was still far from the 10,000 first-use mark that would get me just a single KP, it was a solid start.
I only had 6 KP left now, and after last night's head-splitting knowledge download, I wasn't in a rush to spend more. Not until I had a better strategy.
Before even leaving the bed, I checked my bank app. There it was: €30,000 already credited — the liquidity boost from my meeting with the bank. After subtracting the €7,000 I'd spent on hardware and maybe €50 on food and extras, there was still €22,934 left. Puhh. That number made me exhale like I hadn't in years.
Breakfast was lazy but solid. Coffee. Toast. Honey. No more rationing. No more anxiety about whether I could afford groceries next week.
Then it was time to test SecurityFix again. I opened the freshly installed new build — the heavy-duty version.
Time to target some real players: TeleCommNet and UnuCom, two of the biggest ISPs in Germany.
Scan initiated. Runtime estimate? Around 8 hours per target.
Expected.
The updated SecurityFix wasn't just poking around for shallow exploits anymore. It dove deep. Memory leakage checks. Protocol abuse. Misconfigurations, legacy code injections — the whole digital mess. It even used AI-inferred heuristics to suggest code-level fixes.
It was a beast.
Just as I was watching the live telemetry stream, my phone buzzed.
BitBox Electronics.
"Hi, Max Wintershade? Your delivery is en route. Will you be home within the hour?"
"Yup. I'm ready."
Forty-five minutes later, the doorbell rang. My gear — all of it — had arrived.
I signed, tipped the delivery crew, and got to work setting everything up.
This was my kind of therapy.
Cables coiled neatly, monitors mounted just right, peripherals arranged like I was about to launch a space mission. When it was done, I just stood there and looked at it.
This wasn't survival. This was building.
Time for Some Living
Next: groceries. Then something I hadn't done in years — wandering.
Window-shopping? Aimless walking through a city just because I could?
It felt surreal. Like pretending to be someone else.
I bought a bag of candied nuts, tried on sunglasses I didn't need, and sat in a little park with a bench that didn't judge my worn sneakers.
Then another call.
My bank.
"Miss Wintershade? Just wanted to inform you all payments have successfully cleared. Your university debt is fully settled. You are now, officially, one hundred thousand euros in the green."
I blinked. Again.
That little knot in my chest — the one I'd been carrying around since forever — finally loosened.
I'd done it.
I was solvent.
POV: Professor Armin Schmitt
The screen glared back at him.
University payment — confirmed.
Loan — cleared.
Balance — healthy.
Armin's grip tightened around his crystal scotch glass.
"How?" he whispered.
His contact from the disciplinary committee had casually dropped the update during a routine morning call. Max Wintershade had paid her debts. In full. No negotiations. No installments.
He double-checked.
No financial backers. No scholarships. No wealthy relatives.
It didn't make sense.
"She must have stolen it," he muttered. "Blackmail? Cybercrime?"
Nothing fit.
He called his committee friend back. "Make sure the university demands full late fees and interest penalties. No mercy. No loopholes."
"Will do," the friend said.
When the call ended, Armin set his glass down with a trembling hand.
"First Elena, now this," he muttered. "Are all women poison?"
He stared at the ceiling.
"You'll regret this, Wintershade. One way or another."
POV: Max
I was flat on a heated massage table with soft music playing and cucumber slices on my eyes.
Luxury.
Claudia from the club had always raved about Verano Spa & Wellness, but I'd never even let myself dream of affording it. Now? I had a standing appointment.
Hair — styled and shining.
Nails — flawless.
Feet — finally human again.
Massage? I actually teared up.
Skincare? I didn't even recognize myself.
When I got home, glowing like a pampered goddess, I flopped onto my bed with the dumbest smile I'd ever worn.
This was what freedom felt like.
And I wasn't giving it up.