Ryan sat in front of the computer with his notebook open beside him.
His left hand still bothered him a little, especially when he spent too much time typing, but it no longer limited him as much as before.
He could move his fingers.
He could use the keyboard.
And, most importantly, he could work.
Ryan opened Nexum's administration panel and took a deep breath.
He had spent the last few days improving small things on the platform.
But now he wanted to take another step.
—Today, it's time to really move forward.
He started with the portfolio system for freelancers.
Until then, users could briefly describe themselves, but they didn't have many tools to prove what they could do.
Ryan wanted to change that.
Now every freelancer could upload examples of previous work, write a more detailed description of their skills, and add links related to their work.
Ryan checked the interface several times.
He didn't want it to be complicated.
It had to be simple.
A client should be able to enter a profile and quickly understand who that person was, what they could do, and what kind of work they had completed before.
—If they can't prove what they can do, nobody is going to trust them.
He ran one final test.
He opened a test profile.
Uploaded a few files.
Added a description.
Then checked how everything looked from a client's perspective.
Everything worked.
Ryan nodded in satisfaction.
—Much better.
He saved the changes.
Then he moved on to the feature he was most interested in.
The ranking.
Ryan opened the corresponding file and began working.
The idea was relatively simple.
A company or an individual with a project could pay a small fee to have their job appear in a featured section.
Projects could move up through the ranking.
More visibility.
More chances of receiving offers.
More users seeing the project.
Ryan checked the system several times.
He didn't want it to look like simple manipulation.
It had to feel like a professional tool.
The ranking needed to clearly show that certain projects received greater exposure because their owners had paid for it.
Ryan ran several tests using fictional accounts.
He placed a project near the bottom.
Then he paid to move it up.
Its position changed.
He modified the parameters again.
Everything responded correctly.
Ryan leaned back in his chair.
He stared at the screen for several seconds.
A smile slowly appeared on his face.
—This… could work.
It wasn't a huge source of income yet.
But it could become one.
And, more importantly, Nexum wouldn't depend solely on charging users for access to the platform.
There were other ways to make money.
Ryan saved the changes.
—First step.
---
Later, Ryan decided to examine the competition.
He opened several freelancer platforms that existed at the time.
He studied them one by one.
He looked at their designs.
The way they organized projects.
The profiles.
The categories.
The methods they used to connect clients and workers.
Some had more users.
Others had more attractive designs.
Some had been operating for longer.
But all of them had problems.
Ryan took notes.
Complicated navigation.
Slow systems.
Few tools for freelancers.
Problems finding certain types of work.
Complaints about communication between clients and workers.
Ryan stared at the screen.
They weren't that far ahead.
There was still room.
A lot of room.
—There's still room for another player.
He opened another page.
More users.
More projects.
More activity.
Ryan compared the numbers.
Then he looked at Nexum's.
The difference was obvious.
But it didn't worry him.
Not yet.
—I don't need to win today.
He closed the page.
—I need to keep growing.
That was the real goal.
Not destroying the competition immediately.
Not becoming the biggest platform overnight.
Simply growing.
Every week.
Every month.
Until the difference no longer seemed impossible.
---
Then he returned to Nexum.
This time, he opened the comments from the users themselves.
There were several new messages in the internal forums he had created.
Ryan began reading them.
> "At least they respond quickly here."
Another comment:
> "The rating system is better than on other sites."
Another one:
> "It still needs things, but you can tell someone is actually taking care of it."
Ryan continued reading.
> "I hope they add more well-paying jobs."
That last comment made Ryan stop.
He read it again.
Then he opened the projects section.
The user was right.
There were small jobs.
Too many small jobs.
Nexum still needed to attract clients with larger projects.
Ryan grabbed his notebook.
He wrote down a new note.
Get clients with larger projects.
He thought about it for a moment.
It wasn't something he could fix with a simple button.
He needed to convince companies.
He needed to prove that Nexum was reliable.
And for that, he needed time.
Ryan closed the notebook.
The comments weren't perfect.
Some users were satisfied.
Others had complaints.
Some wanted more features.
But they were real.
That was what mattered.
He would rather have a hundred users who actually used Nexum than thousands of abandoned accounts.
—If they stay, it'll grow.
---
Before shutting down the computer, Ryan opened the notebook again.
He wrote down several ideas for the future.
More reliable payment system.
Internal chat between clients and freelancers.
Advanced search filters.
Profile verification.
Automatic weekly ranking.
Ryan looked at the list.
There were so many things he wanted to do.
Too many.
But he knew that trying to implement everything at once would be a mistake.
He picked up the pen.
He underlined two.
Internal chat.
Profile verification.
—These can wait.
Then he looked at the rest.
—And these can wait too.
He closed the notebook.
There was no rush.
At least not for now.
Ryan looked at the screen one last time.
Nexum was still small.
But it no longer looked like an experiment.
There were users.
There were projects.
There was money coming in.
And now it was beginning to have a much more serious structure.
Ryan smiled.
—It's growing.
---
Meanwhile…
In her room, Vivian sat on her bed with the notebook resting on her legs.
She had gone back to reviewing the timeline.
The same pages.
The same names.
The same cases.
The warehouse.
The forest fire.
The attack on Ana.
Her own kidnapping.
The appearance of the Clown.
And finally, that laughter they had heard from far away.
Vivian slowly turned a page.
She had written down dates.
Locations.
Details.
Everything she had managed to find.
But something was still missing.
A clear connection.
Something that explained why the Clown appeared in all those places.
Vivian closed her eyes.
—It doesn't make sense.
She opened the notebook again.
The more she investigated, the more questions she found.
She didn't know who he was.
She didn't know where he came from.
She didn't know what he wanted.
And she didn't even know if he was actually protecting people… or simply playing with them.
Vivian carefully closed the notebook.
She set it aside.
Then she stared at the wall.
For several seconds, she thought about nothing.
Then a name came to her mind.
Brittany.
Vivian took a deep breath.
They had been through too much together.
Brittany had heard that same laughter.
She had seen the balloons.
She knew the Clown existed.
And, above all, Vivian trusted her.
Vivian picked up the notebook again.
She opened it.
She looked at all the notes.
—Maybe she remembers something I forgot.
She thought about it.
Then slowly shook her head.
Not yet.
She didn't want to involve the others without knowing exactly what she was doing.
But she couldn't keep going like this either.
Vivian closed the notebook one last time.
—I need to talk to her.
She said it quietly.
Almost as if she needed to hear herself say it.
She still didn't know when.
Or how to start the conversation.
But the decision was beginning to take shape.
Sooner or later, she would have to ask Brittany for help.
And when she did…
things might finally start to change.