As his vision cleared, his gaze automatically drifted to the top-right corner of his sight. And there it was. The small, steady dot of blue light.

  He stared at it, really focused this time.

  As if answering his unspoken question, the blue dot flickered. Adam held his breath. It expanded rapidly, just like before, transforming into that familiar rectangular window of light blue energy, hovering right in front of his face. It was bright but didn't hurt his eyes, and words started appearing again, typed out neatly in simple white letters. Adam squinted slightly, reading carefully.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Congratulations, host! You have successfully copied your first item.

  If you wish to retrieve the copied item, simply say "Paste" or think of the paste keyword.

  Note – The pasted item will be automatically stored in your inventory; if you want that item, you can retrieve it from the inventory.

  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  His heart gave a little jump. Successfully copied your first item.

  So, saying "Copy" at the water bottle had actually worked! It wasn't just his tired mind playing tricks. The message was clear. To get the copied item back, he just had to say or even think the word "Paste". And it mentioned an "inventory" – a place where copied things were stored. Like in a video game? It sounded completely crazy, but the blue window floating in front of him felt undeniably real.

  He didn't need to think twice. He wanted to see if this worked, right now. He quickly focused his mind, shutting out everything else, and thought the word as clearly as he could: Paste.

  He waited, his eyes wide, scanning the room. Would another water bottle just pop into existence on the desk? Would it appear in his hand? For a second, nothing happened. Then, he noticed it – another tiny blue dot, identical to the first one, started shimmering faintly right next to the original one in the top-right corner of his vision. It pulsed gently. It wasn't a water bottle appearing out of thin air, but it was something. A sign. The system had registered his command.

  Okay, so maybe 'Paste' didn't just make the item appear anywhere. The message said it would be stored in his inventory first. He had to get it from there. How did he do that? The message didn't say how to open the inventory. He tried guessing. What was the most obvious command?

  He took a quiet breath and focused again, thinking clearly: Inventory.

  It worked! Instantly, the message window vanished, replaced by a larger blue rectangle. This one wasn't filled with text. Instead, it was divided into a grid of perfect, empty square boxes, maybe ten across and five down. They glowed faintly, waiting. It looked exactly like an inventory screen from a game. And in the very first box, the top-left one, something was happening. An image was slowly fading into view.

  Adam leaned closer, fascinated. It was a small, simple drawing, an icon, of a water bottle. The exact same kind he had copied. And just above the little picture, hovering slightly, was the number "1".

  It was real. He had copied the water bottle, and it was now stored here, in this strange blue inventory screen that only he could see. A giddy feeling bubbled up inside him, a mix of disbelief and pure excitement. This wasn't just a dream or wishful thinking. He had a power.

  He had to try retrieving it. Could he actually pull the item out of this screen and into the real world? His hand trembled slightly as he reached out. His fingers passed through the blue light of the inventory screen itself – it wasn't solid. But when his fingertip touched the glowing icon of the water bottle within that first square… something happened.

  A weird, tingling sensation shot up his finger and spread through his whole hand, like static electricity but stronger, warmer. It wasn't painful, just… strange. The icon flashed brightly for a split second. And then, in the blink of an eye, he felt weight settle into his palm.

  He pulled his hand back instinctively. There, sitting solidly in his grasp, was the water bottle. Cool plastic, slightly dented side, half-full of water, exactly like the one on the desk. It felt completely real because it was real. At the same moment the bottle appeared in his hand, the blue inventory window winked out of existence, leaving only the original blue dot in the corner of his vision.

  "Whoa," Adam breathed out, staring at the bottle. He turned it over in his hands. It was identical to the one he'd copied. He hadn't just made a copy; he had seemingly pulled that copy out of nowhere.

  A huge grin spread across his face. He couldn't help it. He jumped up from the bed, clutching the bottle, wanting to whoop with joy. "Yes! It works! It really works!" he whispered excitedly, doing a little shuffle on the spot. For a few amazing seconds, all the fear, the confusion, the pain of his past life, the threat of John Walker – it all vanished. There was only this incredible, impossible magic in his hand. A secret weapon. A game-changer.

  But the thrill faded almost as quickly as it arrived. He suddenly remembered where he was. Not in his own place, not safe and secure. He was a guest in Eric’s house. He was here because he had nowhere else to go, because his life had been ruined, because John Walker and his father had taken everything.

  The memory hit him like a splash of cold water, grounding him instantly. The bottle in his hand suddenly felt heavier.

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  He stopped his excited movements, glancing towards the closed door. He needed to be careful. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself. He slowly walked back to the bed and sat down, placing the newly materialized bottle next to the original one on the desk.

  Two identical water bottles sat side-by-side. Proof. His pulse was still racing, but the wild joy was replaced by a deeper, quieter intensity.

  He looked at the bottles, then back at the empty space where the inventory had been. A fierce determination settled in his eyes. "With this help..." he murmured softly, his voice tight with emotion, "...with this power... I can do anything." It wasn't just a hopeful wish; it felt like a statement of fact. A promise to himself. He could fix things. He could get back what he lost.

  And as he thought about what he’d lost, their faces flashed in his mind, sharp and clear. John Walker, smug and cruel. His father, the mayor, powerful and corrupt, hiding his evil behind a mask of respectability. The architects of his family's downfall. The source of so much pain. The memory of their betrayals, the lies, the helplessness he’d felt as his world crumbled around him – it all came rushing back, hot and angry.

  The thought of them, walking around free and powerful while his own life was in pieces, ignited a fire deep inside him. It wasn't just about survival anymore. It wasn't just about getting his old life back. It was about justice. It was about payback.

  A small, cold smile touched Adam's lips. It wasn't a happy smile; it was sharp, filled with newfound resolve. "John Walker," he whispered the name, tasting it like poison. "Mayor Walker." He clenched his fists. "I will take my revenge on both of you. Father and son. You destroyed my life. This time… things will be different."

  Just as that dark promise echoed in the quiet room, the door handle turned. The door creaked open slowly, and Eric poked his head in. Adam’s heart leaped into his throat, startled. He quickly tried to smooth the hard expression from his face.

  Eric stepped fully into the room, looking concerned. His eyes immediately found Adam sitting stiffly on the bed. "Adam? You okay?" Eric asked, his voice gentle. He must have heard Adam whispering or moving around. "I thought I heard something. Everything alright?"

  Adam hesitated for a fraction of a second. He looked at his oldest friend, the worried look on Eric's face genuine. A part of him, the part that was lonely and scared, desperately wanted to tell Eric everything. To show him the blue window, the inventory, the water bottle trick. To share this incredible, terrifying secret. Maybe Eric would understand? Maybe he could help?

  But another part of him, the part forged by years of hardship and betrayal, screamed caution. Secrets like this were dangerous. Revealing this power, even to Eric, could put them both in danger.

  What if someone else found out? What if John Walker somehow learned about it? No. He remembered vividly how his previous stay here had brought trouble to Eric's family just because of his association with them. He couldn't risk that again, especially not with something this huge. He wasn't strong enough yet. He didn't even fully understand this skill himself. It had to stay his secret.

  He forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Eric," he said, trying to sound casual. "Just… thinking. Didn't sleep that great, I guess."

  Eric didn't look fully convinced. He tilted his head slightly. "You sure? You seem a bit… off this time. Kind of intense."

  Adam quickly waved a hand dismissively. "No, really. It's just been a long night, you know? Still processing everything that happened today. I'll be okay." He hoped his friend would drop it.

  Eric watched him for another moment, his concern still visible, but he seemed to decide not to push. He gave a small nod. "Alright, man."

  "Okay, thanks Eric." Adam replied, relieved.

  Eric gave him one last look, then pulled the door closed, leaving Adam alone with his thoughts and his secret once more.

  Adam let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding. That was close. He needed to be more careful. He settled back onto the bed, staring at the spot where the inventory window had hovered just minutes ago. His mind was buzzing.

  How exactly did this skill work? Could he copy anything? People? Skills? Money? What were the limits? Could he only copy small objects? Did they have to be non-living? How many things could he store in the inventory? The questions tumbled through his mind, one after another.

  He spent the next few minutes just thinking, planning. He pictured himself copying useful things – maybe food if he was hungry, tools if he needed them, maybe even money, though he wasn't sure if that would work or be traceable.

  He imagined having a hidden stash of items ready in his inventory, able to pull them out whenever he needed them. The possibilities seemed endless, exciting, but also a little scary. Power like this could easily attract the wrong kind of attention if he wasn't careful.

  Slowly, the adrenaline from discovering and testing the skill began to fade, replaced by the lingering exhaustion from the previous day. His eyelids felt heavy.

  Despite the million thoughts racing through his head, his body craved rest. He carefully placed the second water bottle back on the desk beside the first one. He lay back down on the comfortable bed, the image of the blue inventory grid still clear in his mind.

  He drifted off to sleep again, but this time, his dreams weren't filled with fear, but with flickering blue lights and the feeling of holding impossible power in his hands. He dreamed of a future where he wasn't running anymore, but fighting back.

  The gentle morning sun streamed through the window, painting stripes of light across the floor and finally reaching Adam’s face, waking him. He blinked, feeling surprisingly rested. The first thought in his head was the skill. He quickly checked – yes, the faint blue dot was still there in the corner of his vision.

  It wasn't a dream. It was real. A quiet sense of determination filled him as he sat up. Today felt different. Yesterday was about survival and confusion. Today was about purpose.

  He got dressed quickly and headed out to the kitchen, drawn by the smell of cooking food. Eric and his parents were already there, sitting around the small kitchen table. The atmosphere was warm and friendly, filled with easy chatter. It felt so normal, so safe, a world away from the danger and uncertainty that defined his life.

  "Morning, Adam! Sleep okay?" Mrs. Henderson asked kindly, placing a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him.

  "Much better, thank you, Mrs. Henderson. This looks great," Adam replied, giving her a genuine smile.

  Breakfast was simple but delicious. They talked about everyday things – the weather, Mr. Henderson’s work, Eric’s plans for the day. Adam joined in, trying to act normal, laughing at Mr. Henderson’s jokes, asking Eric about his studies. For a little while, sitting there in the warmth of their kitchen, he almost forgot about the blue dot, the inventory, the looming threat of John Walker. He allowed himself to just enjoy the feeling of belonging, even if it was temporary.

  But beneath the surface, his mind was working. With every bite of toast, every sip of tea, he was thinking about the skill. Copy & Paste. How could he use it? What should he try to copy next? He needed to be strategic. He couldn't just go around copying everything he saw.

  He needed things that would be useful, things that could help him survive, maybe even things that could give him an advantage. The contrast between the cozy family breakfast and his secret, potentially world-changing power was stark.

  Around 10:00 AM, breakfast was over. Adam knew he couldn't impose on their kindness forever. He had to leave. He thanked the Hendersons profusely for their hospitality.

  "Thank you so much for everything, Mr. and Mrs. Henderson. For letting me stay, for breakfast... I really appreciate it," he said sincerely.

  "Anytime, Adam. You know you're always welcome here," Mrs. Henderson said warmly, while Mr. Henderson gave him a reassuring nod.

  Eric walked him to the door. "You sure you're gonna be okay, man?" he asked again, his earlier concern returning.

  "Yeah, I'll be fine, Eric. Don't worry," Adam said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Thanks again for everything."

  He gathered his few bags, the weight feeling familiar but somehow different now, charged with a secret potential. With a final wave, he stepped out of the cozy house and into the bright morning sunlight.

  The city was alive now. Cars drove past, people walked along the sidewalks, birds sang in the trees. The ordinary sounds of life felt louder, clearer today. As Adam started walking down the street, away from the temporary safety of Eric's home, his mind was crystal clear. This new skill, this 'Copy & Paste', wasn't just a tool. It was a key. A key to survival, a key to changing his future, a key to getting revenge.

  He thought about the inventory, the ability to store things unseen. He could copy food, water, maybe even clothes or shelter materials if needed. He could build up a hidden reserve, ready for any emergency. The thought gave him a sense of security he hadn't felt in years..