Building a Business Empire with my Technological System

December 20th, 2025.

"Michael! I did it! I passed our combustion course!"

Michael had to put his phone a bit away from his ear as Psylemon informed him of the good news.

"Didn't I tell you that you are going to pass the exam?" Michael said, grinning.

"But it was just in the passing line, a point zero one percent could have determined a different outcome!" Psylemon's voice wavered between relief and disbelief. "I owe you one, Michael. Your advice and tips made all the difference."

"Come on, you did the work," Michael replied, his voice tinged with pride for his friend's achievement. "All I did was guide you a bit. You should be proud of yourself."

Psylemon sighed. "I am, I am. It's just... I can't believe it's finally over. I've been so stressed about this course, and now, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

"That's because it has been," Michael chuckled. "You should celebrate, Psylemon. You've earned it. How about we grab some dinner tonight? My treat."

"Really? That would be awesome! I could use a good meal after all this studying," Psylemon's voice brightened at the suggestion.

"Great! Let's meet at our usual spot, say around 7?"

"Perfect, I'll be there. And Michael, thanks again. I really couldn't have done it without your help."

"No problem, Psylemon. We're in this together, remember? Now, go enjoy your success. You've worked hard for it."

"Will do. See you tonight!"

As Michael hung up the phone, he couldn't help but smile.

***

Later that evening, at seven o'clock, somewhere in Cubao. Michael looked at his wristwatch, it was already three minutes past seven. Psylemon is late. There is a concept known as Filipino time where Filipinos often arrive later than the agreed-upon time for gatherings or events, but Psylemon is not the type to strictly adhere to this informal custom, especially not for an occasion like this.

Michael knew that if Psylemon was late, there must be a good reason. He decided to wait patiently, taking the time to appreciate the familiar surroundings of the diner they often frequented.

Ten minutes passed, and Psylemon finally rushed in, slightly out of breath but with a smile on his face. "Sorry, Michael! The traffic was insane, and the buses were packed. I should've left earlier," he apologized, sliding into the booth opposite Michael.

"No worries, Psylemon. You're here now, and that's what matters. Ready to order?" Michael asked, eager to move past the slight delay and make the most of the evening.

"Yes, definitely!" Psylemon replied, quickly scanning the menu before settling on his choice. "I'll have the grilled chicken with rice and a mango shake. What about you?"

"I'm thinking of trying the beef stew tonight. And I'll go with an iced tea," Michael decided, closing his menu.

"Damn, I didn't you would suggest this place despite you having all that wealth," Psylemon said.

"True…it's just habit to stick to what you know, and besides, the food here is great," Michael shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. "Wealth doesn't always mean you have to dine at the most expensive places. Sometimes, it's these humble spots that hold the most memories and offer the best meals."

As they waited for their food, Psylemon shifted the conversation to a topic that had been making headlines recently. "Michael, have you been following the government's modernization program to phase out traditional jeepneys? It's been quite a hot topic these days."

Michael nodded, showing his awareness. "Yeah, I've been keeping an eye on it. I don't know if the government is really serious about phasing out those jeepneys. After all, it's been over a year since they last declared they are phasing out jeepneys. The extension just kept extending to the point no one is taking it seriously."

"Yeah…but now, it seems that the government will push through the jeepney phase-out by January 2026, before the end of the month," Psylemon added.

"My father's livelihood depends on his jeepney. He's been driving it for as long as I can remember. This phase-out could really affect us."

"Wait… your father is just a jeepney driver?" Michael exclaimed it was his first time hearing it.

Psylemon nodded. "Yes…"

"So how can you afford to study at our university? Sem is like 60 thousand pesos per month."

"I am a freelance digital artist, Michael, and I make money by taking domestic and international clients. But it's not a stable income," Psylemon explained. "Sometimes, I have lots of work, and the money is good. Other times, it's dry, and I barely get any clients. We can't rely solely on what I make from freelancing, especially with the unpredictability of the job market."

Michael leaned forward, his brows furrowed in concern. "That sounds incredibly tough, Psylemon. And now, with the phase-out looming, things must be even more stressful for your family."

Psylemon sighed, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. "It is. The phase-out isn't just a policy change for us; it's a threat to our way of life. My father has been a jeepney driver for over 30 years. It's all he knows. And with the government's compensation and transition programs not nearly enough to cover the costs of switching to a modern jeepney, we're stuck between a rock and a hard place."

Psylemon added. "I don't think I'd be able to continue my studies if that policy is pushed forward. I don't know what to do…which is why, Michael…I have something to ask from you."

"What is it?" Michael said, though he already knew what Psylemon was going to ask him for, he still wanted to hear it from him.

"Michael…I need your help. Do you think you can help me out? Cover the tuition fees for my fourth year first sem?" Psylemon said, clasping his hands together as if in prayer.

Michael paused, taking in Psylemon's request. He knew how much pride Psylemon had, and for him to ask for financial assistance meant the situation was dire.

"Psylemon, you know you don't even have to ask. Of course, I'll help you," Michael said, his tone firm and reassuring. "Your education is important, and I won't let you drop out over something like this."

Psylemon's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Thank you, Michael. I can't tell you how much this means to me and my family. I promise I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

Michael waved off his promise. "Don't worry about paying me back. Let's just focus on getting you through your studies. And maybe together, we can come up with a plan to help your dad transition smoothly from his jeepney."

"That would be too much," Psylemon said.

"No...in fact, I'm thinking of opening up another enterprise in transportation," Michael said, remembering that he had obtained a blueprint from a technological system about electric buses. Perhaps he could use it to start his own transportation company.

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