Grand Theft Auto: Regression

I wake up in 4 years old kid body. They used to call me "Default" in the hacker underworld not because I was average, but because I always brought systems back to zero. I was the eraser, the shadow in the server. On paper, I was once a high-earning Wall Street analyst, orchestrating trades worth millions with the flick of a finger. In reality, I'd been orphaned young, taught myself coding before my first job, and made my name in circles the public would never know existed. My only real solace was Grand Theft Auto - the entire franchise. I'd played every release, memorized every map, explored every alley of every fictional city from Liberty City to Vice, and especially Los Santos. It wasn't just a game to me; it was a virtual escape from the cold, calculating numbers of Wall Street and the silence of my one-bedroom apartment. A news report played. Some local event in a park. In the corner, the date and time: June 3rd, 1998. I stumbled back. 1998?! What kind of fever dream was this? Then it hit me - Los Santos. The news anchor signed off with, "Live from Los Santos..."