Before the farewell unfolded…

The golden light that swallowed Raga within the grand hall of Eudor's palace did not transport him directly back to the construction site in his home world. There was a brief interlude—a tranquil pocket dimension where time seemed to freeze entirely. In that quiet space, Raga was not alone.

Two figures materialized from behind the veil of light: Naria and Grom.

"I knew you would leave, Raga," Naria’s voice rang soft and clear, devoid of any royal authority, leaving only a dear friend bidding farewell. She stepped closer and pressed a small pendant into his palm, shaped like a tiny smithing hammer forged from pure mana crystal. "This is a memento from Eudor. If you ever miss us, hold this close. It is more than mere jewelry; it is a compass designed to guide you true whenever you feel lost in life."

Raga accepted the pendant with a trembling hand. "Thank you, Naria. I... I will never forget this adventure."

Grom stepped forward next, his fierce face softened by a deep, melancholic warmth. He handed Raga an ancient parchment scroll bound with a leather cord. "This is an archaic blueprint from the dwarf mines. No one else in Eudor could decipher it, but I knew you were the only 'laborer' with the wits to grasp it. If you ever grow bored of your mundane world, study it. Perhaps, one day, you will build something that bridges dimensions."

Raga smiled, pulling the two individuals who had completely transformed his life into a tight embrace. "You two are the best coworkers I've ever had."

Yet right in the middle of this emotional moment, a translucent blue interface materialized directly between them. S.I.N.I., the system that had driven him nuts all this time, blinked onto the screen with text that felt entirely out of character.

[Final System Message: Raga, your employment contract in the Eudor Dimension has concluded. Before you depart, allow me to conduct a performance review.]

"Oh, go ahead," Raga scoffed. "Must be a score of absolute zero because I spent half my time griping, right?"

[System: On the contrary. Your Score: 100/100. The primary objective of the System was never merely to rescue a princess, but to engineer structural challenges that forced you to unlock your absolute highest potential. You were a man who had surrendered to life long before we met. You were a man who forgot how to smile beneath the crushing weight of cement and poverty.]

Raga froze.

[System: By compelling you to become a 'hero,' I forced you to believe that your hands could manifest miracles, not just carry burdens. You are wealthy now, Raga. But that is merely a bonus. The true reward is the self-assurance you possess this very moment. Do not become a lazy laborer in your home world. Build something worthy, and smile every single time you hold a tool.]

Raga fell silent. All this time he had assumed the system was just a scam artist chasing metrics, only to realize it was the most honest "foreman" he had ever known.

"So, all this time you were tricking me for my own good?" Raga asked quietly.

[System: I did not trick you. I merely provided aggressive 'project management' for your life. Until our next project, foreman.]

The system interface dimmed, leaving behind a fading trail of sparkling light. Naria and Grom offered one final smile as their forms gradually dissolved into warm particles of stardust.

"Farewell, Raga!" Grom shouted.

"See you again, wherever that may be!" Naria called out.

The radiance consumed everything.

Raga opened his eyes. He stood in the midst of Jakarta’s deafening hustle and bustle. The dust of the construction site and the blare of heavy machinery greeted him once more. He stood precisely where he had left off—right in front of his real-world site supervisor, Foreman Grom, whose jaw was still hanging wide open in utter shock at Raga’s sudden, inexplicable reappearance.

Raga looked down, spotting the crystal hammer pendant resting against his chest and the parchment scroll tucked securely inside his pocket. He took a deep breath. The scent of cement dust, which had once felt utterly repulsive, now carried an entirely different note. It smelled like the genesis of creation.

He locked eyes with the real Foreman Grom. The boss looked furious, ready to unleash a tirade of curses, but Raga simply smiled—a genuine smile, the smile of a man holding the universe's biggest secret.

"Hey, Raga! You lazy slacker! You just disappeared during work hours again?!"

Raga stared blankly at his supervisor for a few silent seconds. Then, he reached into the pocket of his faded trousers. There, glowing on his battered smartphone, flashed a bank notification:

[Account Balance: Rp 10,000,000,000,000. Activity: International Wire Transfer Completed.]

Raga flashed a brilliant grin. He straightened up, brushed the dust off his shoulders, and regarded his boss with a calm serenity never before witnessed on the site.

"You're right, sir," Raga said smoothly. "I don't think I'm cut out for this job anymore."

Raga took off his hard hat and placed it gently atop a stack of cement bags. "I resign. And oh, Foreman Grom... you might want to reinforce that wall's foundation, or this building's going to collapse in two years. That's my professional advice."

Raga turned and strolled out of the job site with a light, unbothered step, leaving his supervisor staring slack-jawed under the blazing afternoon sun.

He walked past the project gates with absolute conviction. On his phone, his bank balance displayed a staggering sum, yet deep within his chest, the drive to "build" outweighed all those numbers combined.

He knew that every single day starting tomorrow, he would grip his tools with a completely different feeling. He would work not as a day-laborer, but as a creator. And every time he laid eyes on cement dust, his mind would drift back to Eudor, to Naria, to Grom, and to the sarcastic system that completely rewired his existence.

He smiled. Not a smile born of wealth, but the smile of a man who knew he could become anything he set his mind to. The next project was already waiting, and Raga was more than ready to act as the foreman of his own destiny.