The excitement of their first successful garage sale run carried Ryan and Dylan through the weekend like a quiet electric current. By Sunday night, Ryan had sorted and cleaned every item. Dylan, surprisingly detail-oriented when it came to collectibles, had categorized them into a shared spreadsheet with estimated market values and initial listing prices.
They launched the first ten items on eBay that night. The thrill was instant. Within the first hour, they had watchers on two listings. By midnight, one of the Polaroid cameras had a bid. Ryan stared at the screen with the kind of cautious optimism he hadn't allowed himself in years.
"We're doing it," Dylan muttered, still hunched over his laptop on the floor. "We're actually doing it."
Ryan nodded. He was already thinking ten steps ahead.
But he should have been looking just one step behind.
---
Monday came, and with it the usual chaos of the school halls. Ryan walked through the crowd with a renewed confidence. He wasn't just surviving anymore. He had direction. Purpose. Strategy.
And someone was watching him.
"So," came a voice from behind his locker door, "what's Keller Enterprises selling today? Used socks or expired Furbies?"
Jordan Vance stood there, smug as ever, holding a protein shake in one hand and leaning just a little too comfortably against Ryan's locker.
Ryan shut the door without looking at him. "Still trolling the hallways for validation, I see."
Jordan grinned. "Just curious what you're up to. Rumor has it you and Cho spent your weekend crawling through people's basements like bargain bin raccoons."
Ryan didn't answer.
Jordan leaned in. "People say a lot of things, you know. Some of them are even true. Like how you're flipping junk on the internet. Bold strategy. Not illegal, of course. Just... vulnerable."
Ryan finally met his gaze. "You planning something?"
Jordan's smile deepened. "Me? No. I'm just an interested observer. But hey, competition breeds innovation, right?"
He walked off before Ryan could say more. But the warning had been delivered.
---
By Wednesday, something was off.
Three of their active listings had been removed by eBay for "suspicious provenance." Another item had been flooded with fake bids from accounts that would later retract them—causing the sale to collapse. A buyer for a Game Boy game sent a message demanding a refund, claiming the cartridge was a knockoff.
Ryan and Dylan reviewed the items. Everything checked out. The condition. The serial numbers. Even the original packaging.
"This is sabotage," Ryan muttered. "He's got someone flagging our listings. Or worse, buying and tanking our feedback score."
Dylan leaned back in his chair. "You think it's Jordan?"
"It has his fingerprints all over it. He wouldn't do it directly, of course. He's too smart for that. But I bet he got some burner accounts, or paid someone online."
"You want to confront him?"
Ryan shook his head. "No. Not yet. We pivot. Improve our listings. Add more detail. Clear photos. Verification notes. Hell, even short videos. We make our shop bulletproof."
"That's gonna take time."
Ryan looked out the window. "He wants us to flinch. To fold. So let's do the opposite."
---
That Friday, Dylan caught up to Ryan in the parking lot. "Got something. You're gonna want to see this."
He pulled out his phone and opened a browser. There, on Craigslist, was a new listing:
> "RARE vintage video games - cheap - estate cleanout!"
Local pickup only. Cash only. First come, first served.
The seller's name was "JJW."
Jordan James Vance.
"He's baiting us," Ryan said.
"Or selling stolen inventory."
Ryan thought fast. "We go. We show up. If he's flipping what we're flipping, he's going for dominance."
"And if it's a setup?"
Ryan's expression hardened. "Then we don't play defense anymore."
---
The address was a house in the upscale part of town—the kind with stone driveways and two-car garages. Jordan stood out front in a fitted blazer and aviator sunglasses, sipping iced coffee like he was modeling for a suburban GQ spread.
A card table was set up beside him, covered in plastic tubs filled with neatly arranged vintage cartridges, controllers, and boxed systems. He even had signage. Branding. A stupid little placard that read:
> "LEVEL UP ESTATES - YOUR #1 LOCAL GAME BROKERS"
Ryan and Dylan approached cautiously.
Jordan smiled like a man who'd already won.
"Keller. Cho. Welcome to the big leagues. You're a bit late. Inventory's moving fast."
Ryan crossed his arms. "So you're in the flipping business now."
Jordan shrugged. "Why not? You inspired me. Never realized there was so much money in junk."
Dylan frowned. "Pretty fast turnaround for someone who just learned about resale arbitrage."
Jordan's grin widened. "What can I say? I pick things up quickly."
Ryan scanned the table. Some of the games were high value. Clean condition. A few even looked like duplicates of items they'd been outbid on earlier in the week.
This wasn't coincidence. It was warfare.
"Well," Ryan said finally, "good luck with the knockoffs. Some of these labels look... questionable."
Jordan's eyes flicked to the inventory. "Everything here is authentic. Verified. Unlike some of the listings I saw recently. Shame when people get caught selling counterfeits. Really damages credibility."
Dylan stiffened. Ryan put a hand on his shoulder. "Let it go."
They walked away, but the message was clear:
Jordan wasn't just playing catch-up. He was trying to erase them.
---
That night, Ryan sat in his room, staring at the spreadsheet. Their profit margin was shrinking. Their trust score on eBay had dropped two points. They couldn't afford another flagged listing.
"We need to go legit."
Dylan looked up from his laptop. "We are legit."
"I mean next level. Build a brand. Our own platform eventually. But first, we rebrand on eBay. New account. Business-style. Bulletproof listings. We include condition reports, timestamps, even receipts if possible. We film the packaging process. Make it idiot-proof."
"That's a ton of work."
"Yeah," Ryan said. "But we're not in this to make side cash. We're building the foundation. And he just gave us our blueprint."
He opened a blank document and typed out a new header:
> RECLAIM DIGITAL
Retro Tech. Real Value. Reborn.
A brand.
A response.
And the first step toward the empire.
Jordan wanted a fight.
Ryan would give him one.
But on his own terms.
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