Steven closed the door to his room, his heart thudding with a mix of awe and disbelief. The system had already shown him glimpses of its power—unlocking skills, enhancing stats, guiding even the smallest of actions with uncanny precision. But deep down, Steven sensed he was only brushing the surface of something far greater.
He sat cross-legged on his bed, late morning sunlight spilling through the curtains, painting soft golden stripes across his desk stacked with books. For a moment, he just breathed, steadying his thoughts. Then, with quiet determination, he spoke:
"System, explain your abilities in detail."
The voice answered at once, calm and neutral, yet carrying a strange authority.
[System is a hyper-advanced AI embedded within the host's spiritual consciousness. Its primary function is to facilitate the host's comprehensive development—academic, physical, artistic, linguistic, emotional, and strategic. From mathematics to martial arts, calligraphy to coding, culinary arts to chemistry—the system ensures exponential growth through experiential engagement.]
Steven's fingers tightened on the bedsheet. "So… there's no ceiling? No limit to what I can learn?"
[There are no limits, Host. Only your willingness to explore.]
The words sent a shiver down his spine. Limitless. That single word planted itself deep inside him, both thrilling and terrifying.
"What else can you do?" he asked.
[Many functions remain locked until the first system update. Current System Level: 1. Time to Update: 6 days, 14 hours. During this period, host is encouraged to adapt and explore freely.]
Steven leaned back slowly. A week. That was all the time he had before the system revealed more. The possibilities were staggering—but possibility meant nothing without discipline.
"Alright," he murmured, standing. "Let's see what I can do today."
The hours passed in steady rhythm. Steven's world, once filled with monotony, now thrummed with potential. He began with exercise in the small backyard: push-ups, squats, jogging around the block.
[Push-Ups. Strength +0.3.][Squats. Lower Body Strength +0.4.][Jogging. Stamina +1.]
Sweat stung his eyes, but the numbers kept flashing. Tangible proof of progress.
He returned indoors, cracked open his math textbook, and dove into algebraic theory. His focus, once scattered, felt razor sharp. Every formula he solved brought a faint chime.
[Mathematics Understanding +1. Current Progress: 28/100.]
Chemistry followed, then physics. He moved from chapter to chapter, absorbing concepts that once seemed dull and impenetrable. His pen scratched rapidly, filling pages with notes, diagrams, and problem sets.
[Chemistry Understanding +1.][Physics Understanding +1.]
When his mind grew tired, he switched to other pursuits like Boxing.
[Boxing Proficiency Increased. Current Progress: 5/100.]
By mid-afternoon, his room looked like a storm had passed through—books open everywhere, crumpled practice sheets scattered on the floor, sweat-soaked towel draped over his chair. And yet, Steven felt strangely alive.
Finally, as the sun began its descent, he collapsed onto the bed and whispered, "System, show me my current status."
A glowing panel unfurled before his eyes.
[Steven Blake – Status Panel]Strength: 8.1Agility: 6.8Stamina: 10Intelligence: 13Charisma: 6.2Creativity: 9.5
[Skills]Mathematics Understanding: Intermediate (28/100)Chemistry Understanding: Intermediate (25/100)Physics Understanding: Intermediate (26/100)Biology Understanding: Intermediate (30/100)English Understanding: Intermediate (30/100)History Understanding: Intermediate (25/100)Economics Understanding: Intermediate (27/100)Computer Science Understanding: Intermediate (32/100)Cooking: Intermediate (36/100)Boxing: Intermediate (24/100)
Steven stared at the numbers. Just one day of focused effort, and he was already advancing at a rate that would take others months, even years. It was intoxicating—yet humbling.
He shut his eyes, breathing deeply. Tomorrow, he promised himself, I'll show them. This isn't the old Steven anymore.
And with that vow echoing in his heart, he drifted into sleep.
Next Morning, Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Steven bounded downstairs. The wooden stairs creaked under his feet, but nothing could dull the rhythm in his chest.
School had never excited him before. But now? Now it was a proving ground.
At school, morning light streamed through tall classroom windows, dust particles dancing in golden rays. Students drifted in lazily, some with earbuds in, others flipping through last-minute notes. Steven entered quietly, radiating a quiet confidence that hadn't been there days ago.
He slid into his seat by the window. Veronica, his deskmate, glanced sideways. She didn't say anything—just gave a slight raise of the brow before returning to her book.
Steven smiled inwardly. Let them underestimate him.
Mrs. Langford swept into the room, her signature scarf fluttering slightly as she set her binder on the podium. "Good morning, class!" she chirped, tapping her pen against the whiteboard. "Today, we're diving into persuasive writing."
With fluid movements, she wrote in bold cursive across the board: Environmental Pollution and Its Impact.
"A strong persuasive essay doesn't just inform," she said, turning to face them. "It moves people. Through logic, emotion, and clarity."
As students began taking notes, Steven leaned back, listening. He'd already internalised the lesson from prior readings. Instead, he reached into his notebook and began to sketch absentmindedly.
His pencil moved with purpose—outlines of the classroom took shape, quick and light. Mrs. Langford gesturing at the board. Veronica's sharp profile as she took notes. The student two rows down slouched in his chair.
[Sketching. Skill Unlocked: Sketching (Basic Proficiency: 1/10).]
He chuckled softly. Even this was a skill. The system recognized all forms of learning.
He continued sketching, layering shadows, defining contours. His grip adjusted, motions becoming more fluid.
[Sketching Proficiency Maxed. Level Up: Intermediate Proficiency (10/100).]
He paused and admired the finished piece—a candid snapshot of classroom life. His creativity stat had risen quickly, no doubt due to the system rewarding artistic pursuits.
Veronica glanced over at his notebook and frowned. "Sketching during a lecture? Back to your old habits?" she said under her breath.
Steven didn't look at her. "Some habits have potential," he murmured, his pencil still gliding.
Before Veronica could reply, Mrs. Langford clapped her hands. "Now! I want each of you to write a full essay on today's topic. This will count toward your class performance, so do your best."
As sheets of lined paper made their way across the room, Veronica turned back to Steven.
"You should've paid attention. Essays are not exactly your strength, remember?" she whispered mockingly.
Steven accepted the paper calmly. "Let's see."
Then he began to write.
His words flowed naturally—outlining causes of pollution, articulating real-world impacts, and proposing tangible solutions. His voice was steady, persuasive, and rooted in research. As he finished, he flipped the sheet over and began sketching an accompanying poster. On one side, the earth was cracked and dark, choked by smoke and decay. On the other, a vibrant world powered by clean energy, populated by trees and thriving wildlife.
He submitted the essay with a quiet confidence.
Mrs. Langford began reading through the stack. Veronica's was among the first. She nodded, impressed.
"Veronica, this is solid. Nine out of ten. A few phrases could be stronger, but overall very well done."
Veronica beamed.
Then she picked up Steven's.
Then Mrs. Langford moved to Steven's sheet. She expected something average at best, maybe even copied from Veronica. At first, she read with casual detachment. By the second paragraph, her eyebrows lifted. Halfway through, her lips parted slightly in surprise. When she turned the page and saw the illustration, she was silent for a full ten seconds.
Steven's essay was concise yet detailed, persuasive yet practical. The arguments were strong, the solutions innovative, and the language impeccable. Adding to that, the illustration perfectly complemented the essay, capturing its message in a single glance.
"This… is exceptional," she finally said. "Steven, full marks. Ten points—and an additional five for the poster. Outstanding work."
The classroom erupted in murmurs. Veronica's jaw dropped. "But Mrs. Langford," she protested, "Steven drew a poster when you asked for an essay."
Mrs. Langford shook her head. "Veronica, Steven's essay is exceptional. Adding a relevant poster is a smart and professional technique often used in journalism to engage readers. You should all take note of this."
She handed Steven's sheet to Veronica. "Here, read it. After you're done, take it to the stationery office and make copies for the class. This is worth studying."
Veronica took it reluctantly, scanning the writing. Her initial dismissal faded as she read. The essay was brilliant, far beyond anything she could have written.
She said nothing, but something shifted in her gaze.
The day rolled on
In math class, Mrs. Thompson handed out a challenging assignment filled with tricky problems. While the class struggled, Steven breezed through the questions, finishing long before anyone else. Even Veronica, one of the top students, found herself stumped by the first few problems.
In French class, Steven's performance stunned the teacher. When asked to read and translate a paragraph, he spoke with the fluency and accent of a native speaker. His translation was flawless, and his pronunciation impeccable.
In chemistry, Steven balanced complex equations with ease, identified chemical reactions on sight, and explained their mechanisms as if he had been studying them for years.
Physics and economics were no different. Steven solved intricate numerical problems in physics, citing the laws and their historical contexts. In economics, he provided clear, insightful answers to questions that left others scratching their heads.
By lunchtime, Steven had become the center of attention among the students and teachers.
"Did you see him in math class?"
"Dude, his French was better than the teacher's."
"He even drew this poster that's, like, insane."
"Wasn't Steven the guy who barely passed last term?"
In the faculty lounge, the teachers exchanged incredulous glances.
"I don't know what happened to Steven Blake," said Mrs. Thompson, "but I'm not complaining. The boy is… transforming."
"I agree," said Mrs. Langford. "He's thinking on a whole new level."
Meanwhile, Steven sat beneath a tree near the school's basketball court, eating quietly. His movements were relaxed, but his eyes tracked everything—the bouncing of the ball, the arc of a pass, the tension between students in different social circles.
He saw opportunities for observation in everything.
Veronica leaned against a railing nearby, arms folded, watching Steven from a distance. She was still thinking about his essay. And that sketch. And the calm way he had handled her earlier jab. For the first time, she found herself genuinely curious about him. Steven Blake was no longer just the quiet, average guy at the back of the class. He was an enigma—and one she intended to figure out.
"It's weird. It's like he got injected with genius serum or something," a friend of hers commented.
"Yeah, he is a mystery, but it's intriguing," Veronica said. "I like it."