Let's get one thing straight: I know exactly what you're thinking.
Because I was thinking it too. If you have spent even fifteen minutes scrolling through Wattpad, Webnovel, or any corner of the internet where teenagers write self-indulgent fiction, you know the drill. It's the ultimate millennial and Gen-Z fantasy.
You live a mediocre life, you get hit by a runaway truck (or in my case, you just gracefully expire at fifty like a well-behaved citizen), and then boom—you get a glowing interface, a cold, calculated voice, and a ticket to becoming an edgy, dual-dagger-wielding solo leveler.
I used to read these stories all the time. Then I hit my thirties, my knees started making a Velcro sound every time I stood up, and I stopped reading them because I realized the true fantasy wasn't fighting dragons—it was finding a mattress that didn't give me lower back pain.
Yet, here I was.
When the violent, neon-purple vortex finally finished treating my soul like a shirt in a high-speed spin cycle, I didn't land in a medieval village. I didn't land in a muddy crib.
Instead, I opened my metaphorical eyes and found myself floating in a vast, endless black void. It looked exactly like the deep recesses of outer space, illuminated by billions of tiny, twinkling starlight clusters.
It was breathtaking. It was majestic. It was deeply spiritual.
Except for the fact that right in the dead center of this infinite cosmic majesty sat a bedroom set.
And not just any bedroom set. We are talking about a racecar bed, a brightly colored plastic cabinet, a neon-green desk, and a plush rug shaped like a smiling frog.
It was, without a doubt, the exact kind of bedroom a seven-year-old kid with a severe sugar rush would design if given an unlimited budget at a department store.
Everything was vibrant, everything was loud, and everything deeply fascinated me because *why on earth was there an IKEA showroom in the middle of the universe?*
I was supposed to be dead. I was supposed to be at peace. Instead, I was staring at a racecar bed floating in the vacuum of space.
[Hello, host! ]
A voice exploded inside my consciousness. It wasn't the deep, echoing, majestic voice of God.
It wasn't the cool, smooth, robotic voice of a high-tech AI. It was a hyperactive, squeaky, high-pitched screech that sounded like an anime mascot that had consumed three cans of Red Bull and a pound of cotton candy.
I didn't have a body, but spiritually, I jumped about six feet into the air.
My metaphysical heart practically bypassed my chest.
Before I could even formulate a thought to swear, the voice kept chattering away with absolute, terrifying cheerfulness.
**[Host is currently successfully bonded to System 888! Before host's soul could fly away into the peaceful afterlife, I swooped in, caught it in my little digital net, captured it, and permanently bonded it with yours truly! Yay! We are best friends now! ٩(◕‿◕)۶]**
The system delivered this news with the exact same innocent, bubbly enthusiasm of a toddler who had just caught a shiny green fly in the backyard and proudly decided to make it a permanent pet inside a jar with no air holes.
A profound, heavy gloom instantly washed over my entire soul.
This was *not* the kind of system I expected. Where was the sleek, professional, slightly sarcastic but incredibly cool system?
The kind that speaks in a low, monotone voice and makes you feel like an elite secret agent? Instead, I got stuck with a celestial toddler who sounded like they were one sentence away from asking me if I had games on my phone.
If the system could currently read my thoughts—which, let's be honest, it probably could—it would probably vomit digital blood, its giant virtual eyes swelling with full-blown, dramatic anime tears.
*"Fine,"* I thought, taking a deep, metaphorical breath to stabilize my fifty-year-old patience.
*"I managed corporate interns for two decades. I can handle a hyperactive software program."*
"Okay," I said out loud, my voice echoing through the starry void.
"Thank you for... catching my soul, I guess. So, what's the catch?"
I asked because I wasn't born yesterday. I lived a full, successful life back on Earth, and if fifty years of capitalism taught me anything, it's that nothing in this universe—or the next—is free. Everything has a catch.
Every contract has fine print. I needed to know the pros and cons immediately. I needed to know exactly how I was supposed to benefit out of this arrangement, and more importantly, how I was going to get scammed.
Look, you don't survive to a ripe, happy age of fifty by being naive. You survive by being vigilant, checking the terms of service, and looking for the hidden fees.
=======°°°°°
The Fine Print (The Part Where I Want a Lawyer)
The system didn't seem bothered by my suspicion. If anything, it seemed thrilled to finally have a captive audience.
**[Host doesn't need to worry at all! I will happily tell you everything you must absolutely know in order to travel across the infinite worlds of the multiverse! ]**
I just nodded, even though I couldn't actually see where the system was located. I just aimed my nod vaguely toward the neon-green desk.
The system cleared its metaphorical throat—which sounded like a digital chime—and began rattling off the cosmic rules of my new, unprompted employment.
**[Listen carefully, host! Here is the breakdown of your new life:]**
* **World Missions:** Host needs to completely fulfill every single world mission that the system provides.
* **System Inventory:** Host must acquire skills, magic, and abilities from the system inventory to survive.
* **System Points:** The system will award host points for every mission successfully accomplished.
* **The Shop:** These points can be used to buy awesome items in the system shop, or to upgrade me, your lovely system! (Please upgrade me, I want a new hat!)
* **Mission Types:** Host will be assigned Major Missions (do or die) and Side Missions (for extra pocket change).
* **The Big Reward:** Host can keep every single item and skill he buys at the system shop when he finally decides to permanently reincarnate—provided he succeeds in every single world!
"Okay, okay," I muttered, rubbing my non-existent temples.
"That sounds like a lot of grinding, but carrying over shop items to a final reincarnation doesn't sound like a terrible retirement package. What else?"
The system bounced on its invisible heels, its voice hitting an even more joyful, childlike pitch.
**[Oh! And host will be given exactly 5 chances! If the host fails a major mission, a strike is recorded. Failing five times out of five results in the absolute, permanent, agonizing destruction of your soul! Fire! Boom! Erased from existence! No pressure though! ]**
**[So that's all, host! Isn't this super exciting?! ]**
I stood frozen in the black space. My mind completely ground to a halt as I digested the information. The system had said a lot of words, but only two of them were currently repeating inside my head like a broken fire alarm.
*Reincarnation.* Or *Destruction.*
My soul being completely obliterated into cosmic dust because I failed a video game quest? Absolutely not.
I didn't sign up for this. I was completely satisfied with my first life! I didn't need a do-over, and I certainly didn't need the threat of eternal soul-erasure hanging over my head like the sword of Damocles.
"Hey, kiddo," I said, my voice dripping with the faux-gentle tone I used to use when telling an employee they weren't getting a Christmas bonus.
"Maybe we can just... cancel this contract right now? Let's just do a mutual termination.
You put my soul back in the regular line, you find yourself a nice, angsty teenager who actually wants to fight demons, and we part ways as friends. How about it?"
The system let out a tiny, cheerful chime that sent a shiver down my spine.
**[Oh, silly host! I completely forgot to mention! Once you are successfully bounded to the system, there is absolutely no turning back! No cancellations, no refunds, and no opt-outs! Yay! ]**
When the system said that, I swear to God, I wanted to vomit actual blood.
The sheer, unadulterated audacity of this celestial software! I opened my mouth to launch into a full-scale, middle-aged corporate tirade that would make the gods themselves tremble.
I was ready to demand to speak to the universe's manager. I was ready to refute every single clause of this illegal, unconstitutional soul-binding contract.
But before I could even utter a single syllable of my protest, the system cut me off with a loud, mechanical hum.
[Warning: Host initiating for your first world! Processing travel parameters... Please brace yourself!]
[1%... 15%... 35%...]
"No, wait! Hold on a minute!"
I screamed, lunging toward the glowing blue interface that had suddenly materialized in front of the racecar bed.
"System! Cancel! Abort mission! Stop the download! WA!!!!!"
[75%... 95%... 100%!]
[Processing complete! Good luck, host! Don't worry at all, I will always be right inside your head if you need me! Let's make some memories! ]
And once again, for the second time in less than twenty minutes, the peaceful fabric of space tore wide open.
The racecar bed, the frog rug, and the starry void vanished, replaced by that utterly obnoxious, violently spinning cosmic vortex.
As my soul was violently sucked backward into the swirling wormhole, plunging headfirst into an unknown world against my absolute will, I used the remaining strength of my metaphysical lungs to scream one final, echoing sentiment into the void:
"F*CK YOU, SYSTEM!!!!!!!"