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The early morning was still quite dark, even the half moon was still visible. Yet, Reed had no choice but to go out at this specific time. If he was to wait until after school, the place would not only be likely crowded but he would have no time as he would be too busy doing work--e.i making money.

He walked through the midst of the front garden, watching as the sprinkles of the water fountain dance in low glimmers and passing amidst the growing sakura trees. That was something to be noted, King's Charter was an international private school and even its design was a ways off from normal American high schools.

Reed was dressed in his black tracksuit, passing through the entrance path of the school with the two four-story dorms encompassing his right and left. It was quiet, but he rather liked this silence.

He walked steadily and soon reached his destination with two branching paths.

On his right, the imposing image of the school building itself. It was five stories tall, the first floor being a cafe, a restaurant, and a cafeteria mixed into one; the second floor a full library with an area for undisturbed passage, and the other three floors were where the actual teaching took place. If one counted the windows alone, aside from the first two floors, the other floors held about 14 classrooms each.

Till this day, Reed was still beyond speechless at the grandiose of the school.

Shaking his head, he took the left path.

Ahead of him was a single square building that seemed to be made out of limestone, there were several sports fields behind it, including a track field. Soon, he was swiping his student keycard at the glass door, walking past the large gymnasiums at his right, the pool at his left, and entering the weight room in no time.

Yet, as soon as he swung the wide doors open, he was stopped in his track.

There she was, a girl in her tight-fitting black tracksuit--the school's gym uniform--sitting at one of the benches away from the machines. Her short, black, hair was drenched in sweat, sticking to her face. Even though she was merely sitting down, he could tell she would be taller than most girls--and even some guys--if she were to stand. He couldn't help but admire her features, she couldn't be described as breathtakingly beautiful, but she was definitely good looking.

Her glasses glimmered, staring at the hanging television just in front of the treadmills, as she took a swing of water.

Reed couldn't help but follow her pale-gray eyes as he too stared at the television.

It was currently tuned in to one of those daily-early morning news shows, the kind that usually only reported happy little things.

There was currently an interview that had just begun.

On the left was a young man, blonde with crimson eyes and with features that could only be described as 'handsome'. And in front of him, on the right, was the everyday brunette female interviewer.

"Here with us today--Thomas Anderson, the world's youngest Master Chef!" The interviewer introduced, her breathtaking voice booming into the microphone at her collar as she folded her slender legs.

The audience's applause soared momentarily before dying back down.

The young man merely waved the applause's off, "Glad to be here."

"It has been two years since your entry into the field of culinary arts. What do you have to say of this milestone you've achieved at the mere age of 19? And could you provide us with thoughts on your new, rumored, operation?" The reporter asked, showing her best smile. She truly looked captivating.

The young man smiled and replied modestly, "I don't have much to say, I can only say that I continue to try my best towards the path I've chosen. Two years ago, I worked hard and diligently, and I still do the same even now. As for my new operation, I'll merely be opening a sub-branch of the Rosemary in New York City in the near future, the main branch will still be operational in California. That's all I can say for now."

There was a wave of applause to that statement.

"Sad that we have such a short time with you today, but a final question if we may. What would you like to say to those who claim you have only reached where you are today due to being born with the golden spoon of the Anderson family?"

It seemed the interview was simply a small segment of today's show.

"I think jealousy is an important factor in those falsehoods. Belittling someone simply because you do not have the same talent or skill as they do is the work of trolls. I welcome any challenges towards my culinary skills, provided they book an hour with me beforehand. I would like to say that if you truly feel I've only reached this far due to a mere golden spoon, why don't you come and taste my skill for yourself and let your stomach speak for you for once instead of your clogged lips? Provided that you can afford even a single bite." Thomas shrugged, spreading his arm before him in challenge.

At that moment, Reed thought the man completely bold and daring. Not only did he not back down in the face of criticism, but he also criticized the criticisms, insulted the critics, and dared them to have a go at him if they were not satisfied. Heck, he even went so far as to basically call them poor if they were unwilling to take his challenge.

He thought this was the perfect image of a perfect rich tycoon. A wave of his hand and gold spewed, a wave of his mouth and dirt fell upon those against him. But, as his thoughts churned, his eyes widened and eventually squinted at the visage of the young man on the screen. He thought carefully over those words of his and the girls...

"Don't tell me…" His mouth stood agape as pieces of the puzzle seemed to click into place.

[Yes, he is an owner of a system. His seems to be directed solely towards the path of culinary, although, that should be taken with a grain of salt. Systems are never so simple]

'Motherfu*ker, a two-year lead can make a Master Chef!?!' He immediately cursed his heart out, phasing out most of what Maria had said as he narrowed in on what he considered important.

A new dread washed over him as he realized that he was also in New York. Was the man already coming over to collect his system when he had barely even used it or was he simply setting up a branch as he had stated? Reed didn't know, and he didn't like that feeling.

'If he is specifically seeking me out, there's a high likelihood that his current online and media presence is intentionally meant for me to notice or find out about him. If he isn't seeking me out, it doesn't matter, I should still continue with the minimal caution that he may be seeking me out. That is enough.'

[You have my cheer.] Maria stated, her voice unshaken.

Reed merely rolled his eyes.

"I like to watch the news when I run on the treadmill, but I'm surprised you're here this early." A soft voice suddenly drifted over.

He had suddenly been thrust back into reality.

Reed raised a brow, turning his head rightward and looking at the now standing girl, "You know me?"

"Who wouldn't know the person that kicked a teacher's face in?" She asked in return, glancing towards him from across the room.

He coughed lightly, catching himself from cursing, "And what should I call you?"

"Lizlian." She replied.

"Mhmm," He nodded, squinting his eyes, not quite sure of himself, "Don't mind me asking but that name...it doesn't seem to fit? You look…"

"Japanese? Yeah," She shrugged, "I get that a lot. My father's a half-blood with a side of British and my mother is a full-blood, I inherited most of her looks. They both went to this school when they were younger, got engaged later on, and here I am. Enough about me though, why are you here?"

She seemed quiet curious...those dull eyes stared at him below her glasses.

He smiled in return, "I used to exercise before, but I stopped after Junior year rolled around...too much work with too little time. What about you? Why are you here?"

She was in the midst of wiping her sweat with a white towel but still managed a reply.

"I'm part of the track team, I've always liked running, I come here to train and jog in the early mornings though this is my first time seeing someone else out and about this early."

He shrugged, finally walking forwards to hop onto one of the treadmills.

"Hey, Reed." Yet, once more, the voice called for him.

Once more, he was forced to stop in his track as he crooked his head to look back at the girl. 'The heck? Did I suddenly become more handsome or something? Can't I just get on with my day in peace and quiet?' He momentarily thought.

"What do you say to a race?" However, Lizlian shattered his delusions with a single sentence.

Reed raised a brow, "A race?"

Lizlian nodded, pointing behind her, "A race, in the track field out back, my keycard can open it."

[Ding! Emergency Mission!]

[Mission: As an individual running towards the very top, how could you refuse a challenge? A challenge itself, whether you lose or win, is worthwhile!

Winning Reward: +1 Major Rank to all physical stats. (Physique, Strength, Agility, and Endurance).

Losing Reward: +1 Major Rank to a single chosen physical stat.

Failure to Accept: Loss of System.]

"..."

'Motherf*cker.'

There wasn't even a choice in the matter, was he foolish enough to lose a system he had just obtained? Why was life so cruel to him, hadn't he come here just to finally get back the one thing time had originally stripped from him??

Wasn't this system of his basically just a quest system at this point?? Why the heck did this girl even want to race him of all people?