Infinite Cashback: My Wealth Rebate System

"...N...n..."

Jason’s entire body trembled.

"Ninetee—!"

The last syllable refused to leave his mouth.

His arms shook so violently they looked as though they had developed independent opinions, each one debating whether continuing to support his body was really worth the effort.

"Nineteee—!"

Every muscle from his shoulders down to his wrists burned with the sort of agony usually reserved for people who made catastrophically bad life decisions.

"Nineteen!!"

The word came out stretched, battered, and painfully hopeful.

His chest hovered only a few centimeters above the floor.

Just...One...Last...Push

Jason’s triceps screamed in protest and his shoulders were just about submitting their resignation letters.

His chest had long since declared bankruptcy.

Jason’s face twisted into an expression that looked less like determination and more like someone desperately trying to negotiate with gravity.

"C-Come on..."

He forced his elbows straighter.

A little more

Just a little more

His body actually rose higher than it had managed a second ago.

His eyes brightened.

"I’m—"

No.

His arms finally reached the conclusion before he did.

They had suffered enough.

Without the slightest warning, every bit of strength that he had mustered up for that last push had vanished.

Jason collapsed face first onto the floor with all the elegance of a sack of wet laundry.

Thud...then silence followed, the defeated kind.

For several long seconds, he genuinely couldn’t move.

Eventually, gathering what little dignity his exhausted body still possessed, Jason slowly rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling.

His gaze landed on the fan.

It wasn’t moving.

"Of course."

That explained why his shirt was practically glued to his skin.

Sweat clung to his forehead, slid down his temples, and soaked through the collar of his shirt. Every breath came greedily, his lungs dragging in air as though they had suddenly remembered oxygen was an optional subscription that hadn’t been renewed this time around

Each exhale sounded heavier than the last.

The kind of exhausted sigh that quietly questioned every decision that had led him to this exact point in life.

"What did I do to deserve this"

A tired groan escaped him.

"My muscles really decided that today is the day they kill me."

A laugh slipped out from his mouth, it was dry and humorless and immediately dissolved into a coughing fit.

"So..."

He inhaled sharply again.

"...this is what people voluntarily spend money on?"

Another breath.

"They actually pay gym memberships all to experience death in installments."

His head tilted toward his left arm which lay beside him, glistening with sweat.

Jason attempted to lift it.

The arm rose perhaps three centimeters and then paused before dropping right back onto the floor with an utterly unimpressive slap.

"Traitor"

The betrayal felt strangely personal because he had lived with those muscles for years, fed them and protected them from unnecessary hardship.

Never forced them through anything remotely resembling physical labor.

And the very first time he genuinely needed them they staged a full scale rebellion.

His chest continued rising and falling in uneven rhythms while warmth spread through every exhausted muscle. Not the satisfying warmth fitness enthusiasts loved talking about.

This one burned

It settled deep beneath his skin and stubbornly refused to leave.

"I can’t be doing this every day."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

"If I repeat this tomorrow..."

"...I’m literally going to die."

His body wanted only one thing.

Stop.

Forget the system.

Forget the quests.

Lie here for another hour and accept the floor as his new permanent residence.

Then—

Ding.

The familiar translucent panel unfolded before him.

---

Daily Quest Progress

Push-ups: 18 / 20

Sit-ups: 0 / 20

Squats: 0 / 20

Run: 0 / 2 km

---

Jason’s eyes widened.

"What?"

He sat up far quicker than his muscles appreciated.

"What do you mean eighteen?"

He pointed accusingly at the floating screen.

"I literally died doing that nineteenth one!"

The interface remained perfectly indifferent.

Another line quietly appeared beneath the quest.

---

Incomplete repetitions are not counted.

Proper form ensures proper growth.

---

Jason stared at it.

Then at his aching arms.

Then back at the screen.

"You’re kidding."

His eye twitched.

"You watched me suffer through all that."

He pointed at the notification again, thoroughly offended.

"The least you could’ve done was count it out of pity."

The system responded immediately.

---

The system observed.

---

Jason blinked once.

Then twice.

"Yeah."

He slowly nodded to himself.

"You’re definitely trying to kill me."

Honestly...

There was no better explanation anymore.

Another notification calmly slid into existence.

---

Quest failure results in no reward.

Consistency produces results. Excuses do not.

---

Jason read it once.

Then again.

His lips slowly curled into a defeated smile.

"I suddenly miss being rejected."

At least Amanda had the decency to crush his heart only once.

This thing intended to do it every single day.

Jason remained sprawled across the floor for what felt like an eternity.

In reality though it was twenty-eight minutes.

He knew because he’d checked

Seven times

His breathing had long since steadied, yet every attempt to convince his body to stand was immediately vetoed by every aching muscle he possessed.

It wasn’t entirely his fault.

His body hadn’t experienced this much physical activity in years.

To suddenly expect it to perform like some fitness influencer on the internet was optimistic at best

Still beneath every complaint, every excuse, every burning muscle...

There was something else.

He genuinely wanted this.

Not because of the push-ups.

Not because of the pain.

But because, for the first time in years, there was a version of himself worth chasing.

Jason stared at the ceiling for another few seconds.

"Come on."

He sighed.

"You’ve cried over a girl."

"You’ve embarrassed yourself in front of half the campus."

"And now you’re being defeated by the damn floor."

He rubbed both hands over his face.

"That’s a new low, Jason"

Silence.

"Actually"

He frowned thoughtfully.

"No."

"I’ve definitely had lower."

A dry laugh escaped him.

"Congratulations, Jason."

"You’ve reached the stage where lying down feels like a full-time career."

He let out another long breath before planting a hand against the floor.

"Alright."

Another hand followed.

A shaky knee.

With considerably less dignity than he’d have preferred, he somehow managed to stand.

Every muscle protested.

Jason ignored them.

His eyes drifted toward the floating quest window.

Push-ups weren’t happening anytime soon.

His arms had officially resigned from active duty.

"Fine"

He cracked his neck.

"We’ll negotiate with the lower half instead."

His gaze settled on the next objective.

Squats: 0 / 20

Jason folded his arms, studying the words as though he were preparing for an exam.

"Squats."

He nodded to himself.

"Those are easy."

"They’re basically just standing..."

"with extra steps."

He pointed accusingly at the system.

"And before you say anything, no."

"I refuse to believe people actually struggle with standing up."

The system, unsurprisingly, remained silent.

Jason smirked.

"See?"

"Even you agree."

He rolled his shoulders before taking a deep breath.

"Down."

He bent his knees.

"Up."

One.

"Okay."

"That wasn’t bad."

Two.

"I’ve definitely got this."

Three.

"Honestly, I don’t know why people complain about leg day."

Four.

"Maybe they’re just dramatic."

By the tenth squat, his thighs began sending strongly worded complaints.

Jason paused halfway through another repetition.

"Hold on."

He frowned.

"When did you people wake up?"

His legs answered by trembling.

"Ah."

"There you are."

Fifteen.

His confidence quietly packed its bags and left.

Seventeen.

"This is getting less funny."

Nineteen.

"I would like to formally apologize to everyone I’ve ever mentally judged for complaining about squats"

Twenty

Jason straightened with considerably more effort than he’d anticipated.

A second passed.

Then another.

Nothing exploded.

Nothing snapped.

He was still alive.

"I won."

He said with a sense of achievement rivaling that of a main character that defeated the final villain

"I actually won"

Ding.

---

Squats: 20 / 20

---

His smile widened.

It wasn’t much.

Twenty squats.

Objectively speaking, there were probably twelve-year-olds somewhere doing triple that before breakfast.

But to Jason, this felt like proof. It was tiny and almost laughably small.

But proof nonetheless.

He looked toward the floating screen with unmistakable pride.

"Well?"

He folded his arms.

"Anything to say?"

"I completed it"

He waited.

"Go on."

"Praise me."

The system responded immediately.

---

Correction.

The user completed one-quarter of today’s quest.

Celebration may commence after one hundred percent completion.

---

Jason’s smile froze.

"You’re unbelievable."

He pointed at the notification.

"You know, normal people usually say, ’Good job.’"

"Maybe throw in a ’Keep it up.’"

"Something motivational."

The screen remained emotionless.

"Not even a virtual sticker?"

Nothing.

Jason sighed dramatically.

"I miss the days when inanimate objects didn’t have attitudes."

His gaze slowly drifted toward the remaining objectives.

---

Sit-ups: 0 / 20

Run: 0 / 2 km

---

The tiny smile he’d fought so hard to earn quietly disappeared.

"Never mind."

He scratched the back of his head.

"So"

He looked at the list.

Then at the floor.

Then back at the list.

"You know"

"I was feeling pretty accomplished just now."

"You could’ve let me enjoy that for at least five minutes."

Silence.

"Heartless."

He lowered himself back onto the floor with all the enthusiasm of a man climbing into his own grave.

"Alright."

He clasped his hands behind his head.

"Let’s finish the sit-ups"

"And if I survive those"

He glanced toward the apartment door where the two-kilometer run still waited for him.

"Future Jason can deal with that problem."

A brief pause.

"Sorry, Future Jason."

"Present Jason really isn’t looking out for you."

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