The ground-floor elevator door chimed, releasing Arif into the skyscraper’s main lobby with a spirit soaring high. His steps felt weightless, as if the usually harsh and chaotic sidewalks of Jakarta had transformed into a red carpet rolled out exclusively to welcome his triumph.

Inside his trouser pocket, the cheap smartphone felt like precious metal. The three hundred million rupiah in his account was no longer just digital numbers, but a symbol of newfound power. Arif walked over to the largest ATM in the corner of the lobby, inserted his card, and punched in the maximum cash withdrawal button multiple times until his wallet bulged heavily with thick stacks of crisp, hundred-thousand-rupiah notes.

"I won," Arif whispered to his reflection in the ATM glass. A wide smirk carved across his face. "I am no longer a loser."

Today's experiment was all about celebration. Throughout his entire life in Jakarta, Arif had always been a spectator on the sidelines. He was the one walking under the blazing sun, watching luxury air-conditioned sedans glide smoothly past the traffic jams. Yet today, with the fantastic severance package he had extorted from Pak Malik, Arif decided to trade roles.

His first stop was a premium car rental agency in the downtown district. Without hesitation, Arif laid a thick stack of cash on the reception desk, demanding the keys to their finest vehicle available that day—a pristine, glossy metallic-black German sports sedan.

As his fingers gripped the luxurious leather steering wheel, the Frost Circle ring on his ring finger pulsed softly, sending a strange, cooling sensation through his hand. Arif ignored it. He stepped on the gas pedal, letting the roar of the high-powered engine echo down Sudirman's Protocol Avenue. He drove with the windows rolled halfway down, letting the city wind buffet his face, feeling like a king touring his dominion.

By afternoon, Arif parked the sports sedan right in front of the lobby of a grand five-star hotel. A valet in a crisp, immaculate uniform bowed respectfully to him—treatment Arif had never experienced once in his entire life. He stepped into the hotel's main restaurant, paved with marble and illuminated by opulent crystal chandeliers.

A waiter in a tailored suit greeted him with utmost politeness, escorting him to the best table near the large bay windows overlooking the sprawling city panorama.

"What is your finest menu this afternoon?" Arif asked, glancing casually at the menu book without caring about the price tags listed beside the dishes.

"We have the Wagyu Tomahawk Steak served with black truffle trimmings, sir," the waiter answered deferentially.

"Serve that. And bring the best vintage available," Arif ordered with an arrogant wave of his hand.

When the extravagant meal was served, Arif savored it slowly. Every bite of meat melting on his tongue felt like sweet vengeance for the years he spent eating instant noodles inside his stuffy boarding room. He looked out the window, gazing down at Jakarta's traffic jam below with a surging sense of superiority. The people down there were sweating, anxious over jobs and bills, while he sat upon a crystal throne, spending corporate money however he pleased.

This masquerade of luxury continued into the evening. Arif visited a high-end designer shopping district in the MH Thamrin area. He strolled into international designer boutiques that he had previously only dared to gaze at through exterior glass windows.

"I'll take that suit, this shirt, and the leather shoes in the front display," Arif told the boutique assistant, who immediately sprang into action to serve him with super-friendly smiles.

Arif paid for everything with stacks of cash. He swapped his faded blue work shirt for an expensive silk shirt and brand-new, polished shoes. He walked down the mall corridors carrying a dozen branded shopping bags, soaking in the looks of awe—or perhaps jealousy—from people passing by. He felt like he had truly conquered the day.

That night, Arif stopped his rental car at a hilltop overlook on the city's outskirts, a spot where he could gaze out at Jakarta's twinkling lights stretching endlessly like a bed of diamonds. He stood beside the hood of his sports sedan, dressed in his high-end attire, holding a bottle of top-shelf liquor.

He raised the bottle high toward the night sky as a fine drizzle began to fall.

"Here's to the most perfect Thursday!" Arif shouted aloud, his voice cutting through the quiet of the night. "I am the master of today! Pak Malik is kneeling, cash is in my hands, and not a single soul in this city can touch me anymore!"

Arif took a swig, feeling the burning warmth of the liquid scorch his throat. He felt on top of the world. Every boarding bill, warning letter, and fear of the future had been smashed to pieces with this three-hundred-million-rupiah fortune.

He laughed contentedly, leaning back against his luxury car, then slowly closed his eyes with a triumphant smile still etched firmly across his lips. He couldn't wait to welcome the next time loop, where he could repeat this feast of extravagance over and over again, becoming the eternal king inside the circle of the Frost Circle.