Ding! All in good time my human slave, err friend.
Stupid system.
While I was getting the hang of my new job, and the air in my truck was noticeably better. I really didn’t want to stay at this job.
Since it was Friday, just 4 days before school officially started for Alex on Tuesday, my boss decided to ride along with me. He had to check up on how well I did my work afterall, and Friday’ were his ride along days.
While making our first delivery, my boss took a deep breath. “I don’t feel my asthma acting up. Why is that?” I pointed out the fan that I already showed him earlier this week. Bert is not the brightest, how did he become the manager?
He looked at the fan, then at me, then the fan again. “You said you made this, right? It looks so high tech.” Thank you system for the magic touch. “Yeah, my family made it last weekend.” The way Bert was looking at this fan made me think it was his long lost daughter. I think he really wanted to play with the machine.
“Do you think you could make me one? I have always suffered from asthma, but I think this is the first time in 20 years that I could breathe deeply.” I gave him a sideways look that he noticed. I remembered he took a deep breath on Monday when I showed it to him as well. “I can pay! I am not asking for it for free!”
Ding! New quest received: Spread the Clean Air Initiative.
- Details: Sell at least 10 advanced air purifying fans within the next month.
- Rewards: Kung Fu skill.
WHAT! KUNG FU! I stared at the notification, flabbergasted. Why hadn’t I thought of selling these fans? I felt kind of dumb. And also, KUNG FU!!!
Ding! That's because you ARE dumb…
Stupid system.
The last quest had been physically challenging but straightforward. This one was entirely different—it required me to step into the world of sales, something I hadn’t done before.
Meanwhile, Bert was looking at me with a pleading look. “Sure, these are for sale. The price is a bit high though, $100.” I looked at him nervously. Since we hadn’t thought of selling them, I didn’t know what price would work. When I got off work we would have to discuss the price as a family.
“If this can help my asthma, $100 is a great price.” Bert had a big smile on his face. Then he got out his wallet and gave me five $20 bills. Ka-ching first sale made! I had just gotten this quest and was already 10% done.
The rest of the day was somewhat of a blurr. Bert was impressed with how well I did since I hadn’t been working at the company for very long. Of course he didn’t know about my previous experience from 20 years ago. With my last delivery made I returned to the warehouse, parked the truck, and jumped in my car to haul ass home. Bert took the fan with him.
I shared the new quest with Amy and Alex over dinner that night. “So, it looks like we need to sell these fans to complete the quest,” I said, trying to sound optimistic.
Amy looked thoughtful as she twirled her fork in her pasta. “It’s a good product. It works really well in your truck. I’m sure other people would want one if they knew about it.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Alex, ever the pragmatist, asked, “How much do we charge? And who do we sell to? By the way, you do realize we have the system too and can see the quests?”
“Let your father have his moment.”
“Good questions,” I said, considering our options while ignoring everything else. “We’ve built five fans so far—one is in each bedroom, one in the living room, one saved for Alex’s classroom, and the last one is already sold. I think we could sell these for at least $100 each, maybe more if we market them as eco-friendly and good for health. After all they take $50 in materials, plus our labor and the system to produce.”
Amy nodded. “We can start by reaching out to people we know. Maybe some of your coworkers would be interested in buying one for their trucks. The warehouse workers would also probably like one, I bet it’s pretty dirty in the warehouse.”
“That’s a good idea,” I agreed. “And you can talk to some of the parents at Alex’s school. They might be interested in something like this for their homes, especially if their kids have asthma or allergies. It might help to wait for a while though, for them to see the effects in the classroom.”
We spent the weekend making plans. We decided to start small, focusing on building a few more fans so we’d have enough inventory to sell. I went back to Ace Hardware to pick up the parts, and we set up a mini assembly line in the living room. Alex was thrilled to be part of the process, handing us tools and double-checking the blueprints as we worked. He probably was just dreading going through elementary school for the second time and focusing instead on the system tasks.
By the end of Sunday, we had built four more fans, bringing our total to eight(nine minus the one already sold). Which we promptly stored in our system space. It was time to start selling.
Monday morning, I got up early due to nervous energy, and put one fan from the system space into the trunk of my car. I figured it would be easier to demonstrate the product in person rather than trying to sell it sight unseen.
During loading, I casually mentioned the fan to a few of my colleagues on the docks. “You know, I’ve got this new air purifying fan in my truck. It’s made a huge difference in the air quality—when the boss rode with me last week his asthma symptoms went away.”
Most people ignored me, but two seemed interested. One of the other drivers, Mr. Anderson, we usually called him Neo, looked particularly interested. “Really? My daughter has asthma, and it’s always worse during the school year. I’d love to see how it works.”
“I’ve got one in my car right now if you want to check it out after work,” I offered.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
After the final delivery, I walked with Mr. Anderson out to my car and pulled the fan from the trunk. I plugged it into a portable power bank I’d brought along, and the fan whirred to life.
“This is it?” he asked, leaning in closer to feel the air. “It doesn’t look like much. There aren’t even any fan blades.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I admitted. “But it’s the technology inside that makes the difference. It filters out pollutants as it runs, trapping dust, allergens, and other particles that can trigger asthma or allergies. I’ve noticed a real improvement in my home and truck.”
He hesitated, then asked, “How much?”
“Normally, these would go for around $150, but since you’re the second buyer, I can do $100. Also it comes with a one week, money back guarantee.”
He didn’t even blink. “I’ll take it. Anything that might help my daughter breathe easier is worth the investment.”
I handed him the fan, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. That was our second sale—two down, eight to go.
Over the next week, word started to spread. Mr. Anderson must have talked to other drivers, because soon enough, I had a few more colleagues asking about the fan. By the end of the week, I had sold two more, all to drivers in the company. Yes! 4 out of 10 sold. Each sale felt like a small victory, bringing us closer to completing the quest.
Every night we were busy making more, we made 5 every night that week, 20 more than needed to finish the quest if we kept 4. Storing them all in the system space, man this space is great. Yes I know we went a bit overboard, but still the product was awesome and I couldn’t see it not selling.
At home, Amy was having similar success. She’d mentioned the fan to a few moms during school drop-off, and two of them placed orders right away. Alex, ever the entrepreneur, even convinced one of his new friends’ parents, the Korean chubby, to buy a fan after showing off how clean the air in his room was. His mom was happy to see her son make a friend so she bought 4. Completing our quest.