How I Became Ultra Rich Using a Reconstruction System

Chapter 11: One Serendra Residence

Timothy sighed. A lot of things were happening recently—the Reconstruction System, the sudden rush of money, the pill that magically enhanced his brain, and now this tutoring.It was truly a blessing that the Reconstruction System had appeared in his life.

He still had two reconstruction attempts left, and just like he planned, he intended to let them accumulate day by day so he could utilize them effectively when the right opportunities came.

***

September 24th, 2024.

"Is this the place?" Timothy hopped down from the motorcycle rider of Angkas while his eyes were fixed on the towering skyscraper in BGC.

One Serendra Residence.

The glass facade gleamed in the morning sun, framed by palm trees, trimmed hedges, and the rhythmic hiss of sprinklers watering manicured lawns. Security guards in crisp uniforms stood near the entrance, radios clipped to their belts. SUVs and sedans rolled past, dropping off suited professionals and housewives with designer bags.

It looked like another world—far removed from the cramped alleys of Tondo.

Timothy adjusted the strap of his backpack nervously. "Damn... this place looks like a five-star hotel."

He walked toward the lobby, each step heavier than the last. His freshly reconstructed polo and slacks kept him from looking completely out of place, but the nerves inside him churned like boiling water.

The glass doors parted smoothly as he approached, cool air washing over him. Inside, the lobby was all polished marble floors, golden lights, and modern furniture. A chandelier hung above, reflecting against the walls. At the far side was a reception counter manned by two women in neat uniforms.

Timothy’s footsteps echoed softly as he approached.

The receptionist glanced up, her polite smile flickering as her eyes scanned him. "Good morning, sir. May I help you?"

Timothy froze for half a second. He had never spoken to a condominium receptionist in his life. His throat tightened. "Ah, uh... I’m here for..." He hesitated, fumbling his words. "I’m here for, uh, Tiffany. Tiffany Co."

The receptionist’s polite expression didn’t falter, but Timothy swore he caught the slight arch of her eyebrow. She tapped on her keyboard quickly. "Do you have an appointment with Ms. Co?"

"Appointment?" Timothy repeated, blinking. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. She... asked me to come."

The receptionist gave him a polite but skeptical look. Her tone remained professional, but it carried a faint edge. "Sir, may I ask your name?"

"Timothy. Timothy Guerrero," he replied quickly. His voice cracked just slightly, making him wince.

The receptionist typed again, then picked up the phone beside her. "One moment, sir. I’ll need to verify with the resident."

Timothy stood there stiffly, shifting from foot to foot as people walked past behind him—professionals in tailored suits, a mother with a designer stroller, a teenager in branded sneakers. Everyone moved with an air of belonging, while he stood at the counter like a fish out of water.

His cracked phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and opened Messenger.

Timothy Guerrero:

I’m here. At the lobby.

He stared at the screen, waiting.he kitchen gleamed in stainless steel at the far end.

Timothy tried not to gape. "Uh... nice place."

Tiffany gave him a flat look, as if the compliment barely registered. "Shoes off, please. We’ll study at the dining table."

Timothy quickly slipped off his shoes, lining them neatly by the door like she said. He followed her toward the dining area, where her laptop and a stack of math reviewers were already spread out.

She sat down, adjusting her glasses. "We’ll start with derivatives. I need you to explain what you did on that exam."

Timothy’s throat tightened. He forced a smile, pulling out a chair. "Sure. Let’s get started."