“Don’t,” said a voice behind him.

Then the screen went dark forever.

“Because I’m the one who built the page,” the old man whispered. “And I’ve been waiting for someone with exactly five thousand pesos to finally show up.”

The screen fizzed. Went black. The old man screamed—not in pain, but in loss . His reflection vanished. His polo shirt turned back to normal. He was just a tired, hungry old man again.

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