The classroom was a buzzing hive of noise, chatter, and scraping chairs. Sunlight slanted through the tall windows, bouncing off glossy textbooks and half-empty juice cartons. Laughter erupted from a corner where the basketball team crowded together, while in the back, a group of girls compared phone screens, squealing over some idol video.
Kent Gilbert sat at his desk with his foot bouncing uncontrollably. His palms were slick, and the notebook in front of him was smeared with the same four words he'd written over and over: "Emily, I like you."
"Bro, if you don't do it now, you'll never do it."
Kent flinched. His friend Marcus leaned in from the next desk, grinning with popcorn-greasy fingers. Behind Marcus, another buddy—short, loud Tyler—smirked.
"She's right there, man. Just get up, confess, boom—you're dating the hottest girl in school." Tyler gave him a shove on the shoulder.
Kent's stomach churned. He risked a glance across the room.
Emily Tran sat by the window, her perfect hair catching sunlight like strands of gold. She laughed at something her friend whispered, tilting her head back with casual grace. Even the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear looked like something out of a commercial.
Kent swallowed hard. His throat was dry as sand.
"I can't just walk up and—" he began, but Marcus cut him off with a snort.
"What's the worst that can happen? She says no? You'll survive. C'mon, you've been drooling over her since freshman year."
Kent rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans. The worst that could happen? Easy. She could laugh. Or worse, everyone else could laugh.
Tyler leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Look, if you chicken out now, you're gonna regret it for life. Just… say the words, Kent. It's now or never."
Kent's heart pounded. Now or never.
He pushed back his chair. The screeching legs against the floor made a few heads turn. Heat flooded his face as whispers rippled across the room.
Emily looked up, her big brown eyes landing on him. For a moment, Kent forgot how to breathe.
His knees felt like rubber as he forced himself forward, step by step, the weight of a dozen stares burning into his back. Behind him, Marcus and Tyler were pumping their fists like idiot cheerleaders.
Kent stopped at Emily's desk. She blinked up at him, her smile fading into something politely puzzled.
He opened his mouth. No sound came out.
Students were staring now, the chatter dimming into expectant silence. Derek, the tall guy with gelled hair who always acted like the king of the classroom, leaned back with a smirk, already sensing drama.
Kent's throat tightened. He coughed, tried again.
"Emily… I…" His voice cracked. His ears burned. "I… like you."
The room went dead quiet.
The silence that followed stretched too long, so long that Kent felt the blood in his ears pounding like drums. Dozens of eyes drilled into him. Someone coughed.
Emily blinked, then blinked again. Her lips parted in surprise, and for a heartbeat Kent thought—just maybe—she would smile.
Instead, she tilted her head, her expression hardening.
"…Are you serious?" she asked, her voice cool and sharp enough to cut.
Kent's chest tightened. "Y-Yeah. I mean—I've liked you for a long time, and I was thinking maybe—"
She cut him off with a laugh. Not the sweet, gentle laugh he imagined in his daydreams. This one was quick, high-pitched, dismissive.
"You? Sorry, Kent, but I don't date losers."
The words hit like a slap.
A ripple of gasps swept through the classroom. Then came the laughter. Some of the girls giggled behind their hands, while a guy at the back smacked his desk, howling.
Derek, leaning lazily in his chair, grinned like a shark. "Damn, Gilbert, didn't know you had the balls. Guess they shriveled up at the last second, huh?"
The class erupted louder.
Kent's vision blurred at the edges. His face burned so hot he was sure steam was rising. His mouth opened, then closed again, no sound coming out. The words he'd rehearsed a hundred times in the mirror had abandoned him.
Emily was already turning back to her friends, flipping her hair like he wasn't even worth the effort. "Can we move on now?" she said lightly, as if swatting away an insect.
Someone whistled. Another voice jeered, "Next time try confessing to the lunch lady, Kent!"
The laughter stabbed into him from every corner, sharp, merciless.
Kent forced a crooked smile, trying to laugh it off, but his throat wouldn't cooperate. His eyes stung. He could feel Marcus and Tyler's guilty stares boring into his back.
Not like this. Please, not like this.
He turned on his heel and bolted for the door. The chorus of laughter chased him down the hall, echoing against the lockers like a cruel soundtrack to his failure.
Kent shoved through the double doors and stumbled out into the corridor. The echo of laughter clung to him, crawling into his ears even after the sound had faded behind walls and distance. He marched blindly down the hall, ignoring the curious stares of a few students who passed by, head lowered as if gravity had doubled just for him.
His shoes squeaked faintly against the polished floor. Every step seemed to replay the moment—Emily's laughter, the sting of her words, the way Derek's smirk had widened with delight. It was all burned into his mind, looping endlessly.
By the time he pushed through the front doors of the school, the sunlight outside hit him like a slap. The late afternoon sky was painted orange and pink, warm and soft, but it felt like a cruel joke to Kent.
He didn't bother taking his usual bus route. His legs carried him forward without plan, dragging him along cracked sidewalks and past peeling fences. He barely noticed the cars rolling by, or the kids chasing a basketball across the street.
All he could think was—Loser. She called me a loser. And everyone laughed. Everyone.
The word rang in his skull, heavier each time, until it felt like a verdict carved into stone. His fists clenched in his pockets. He wanted to argue with himself, to fight back against the thought, but no words came. Because deep down, wasn't it true?
He thought about how Marcus and Tyler had pushed him into it. But really, he hadn't needed much pushing. He wanted that moment, wanted to be bold. And instead, he'd just… made a spectacle of himself.
Kent stopped at a crosswalk. The red light blinked against his face. A group of office workers shuffled past him, too busy with their phones and conversations to notice the kid with slumped shoulders and vacant eyes.
His reflection in the glass of a convenience store caught his attention. Same messy brown hair. Same too-thin frame in a wrinkled uniform shirt. Same awkward loser staring back at him. He let out a bitter laugh under his breath.
"Maybe she's right," he muttered. "I am just a loser."
And right as those words left his lips, the air around him shifted.
At first, it was subtle—like static tickling against his skin. The hairs on his arms stood up. A faint buzz filled his ears, high-pitched and growing clearer, like a radio tuning into the exact right station.
Then, out of nowhere, a voice purred inside his head.
"Congratulations, Host. Pickup System Initialized."
Kent froze mid-step, nearly tripping over the curb. His heart jumped to his throat, eyes darting wildly around the street.
"What the—?!"
But there was no one. Just cars rolling by, a barking dog somewhere in the distance, and the glow of a neon sign flickering in the corner shop.
The voice returned, smooth and metallic, carrying an edge of feminine playfulness.
"Welcome, Kent Gilbert. You have been chosen to wield the Pickup System. Your destiny as a future master of charm begins now."
Kent's mouth dropped open.
"…What?"
Kent spun in a slow circle, scanning every corner of the street. There was no speaker, no phone buzzing in his pocket, no prankster hiding in the shadows. Just him.
His pulse hammered. He grabbed his head with both hands, half-expecting to feel a headset clamped there. Nothing.
"This is… this is insane," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm hearing voices now? First I get destroyed by Emily, now I'm losing my mind."
The voice ignored him, rolling forward with cool certainty.
"The Pickup System has been bound to Host: Kent Gilbert. Primary function—assisting the Host in acquiring female affection through missions, skills, and rewards."
Kent's jaw twitched. "Primary function—what? Are you… a dating coach in my brain?"
"Negative." The voice sounded almost amused. "The Pickup System is an advanced program designed to transform losers into legends. Through successful interactions, you will gain Charm Points, Skills, Wealth, and special Abilities. However—failure will result in penalty."
"Penalty?" Kent repeated, his stomach dropping. "Wait, wait, hold on. What do you mean by—"
His words cut short as a shimmer of blue light burst before his eyes.
A rectangular screen hovered in midair, glowing neon-blue with scrolling text. His reflection shimmered faintly on its surface, eyes wide and mouth agape.
[Pickup Quest #1: Make Emily Tran Blush Within 3 Minutes]
Reward: +5 Charm
Punishment: 24-Hour Body Penalty
Kent staggered back, his heel catching on the curb. He flailed his arms, barely catching himself on a streetlamp. His breath came in ragged bursts.
"What the—? What is this?!"
The screen pulsed once, and another line appeared:
Timer: 03:00… 02:59… 02:58…
Kent's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. "Wait—three minutes?! No, no, no, you can't be serious! I'm not going back in there!"
He waved his arms frantically at the glowing text. Passersby gave him strange looks, stepping wide around him as if he were a lunatic arguing with empty air.
The voice purred in his head, unfazed.
"Mission active. Failure to complete task will result in punishment."
Kent's hands trembled. His knees felt weak. "Blush? She just rejected me in front of the whole class! She laughed at me! How am I supposed to make her blush now?"
The timer ticked down mercilessly.
02:41… 02:40… 02:39…
Kent's throat tightened. His chest heaved. His brain screamed at him to run, to hide, to do anything but walk back into that building.
And yet, against all logic, his legs shifted. He found himself stumbling forward, back toward the school.
"This is insane," he muttered, panic bubbling in his voice. "This is totally insane."
But the glowing timer in front of him didn't care.
02:23… 02:22… 02:21…
Kent's sneakers slapped against the sidewalk as he stumbled back toward the school entrance. His chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, sweat trickling down his back. The glowing timer hovered stubbornly in his vision no matter where he looked.
01:59… 01:58… 01:57…
"This is suicide," he hissed. "She already destroyed me once, and now I'm supposed to make her blush? What am I, some magician?"
But his feet carried him up the steps anyway. His hand shot out, yanking the heavy glass door open. The sudden rush of cool hallway air hit him like a shock.
Inside, the school was quieter now—most of the commotion had settled, but voices still drifted from his classroom down the corridor. The sound of muffled laughter made his stomach twist.
He slowed for half a heartbeat, panic clawing at him again. His legs wanted to turn around, to bolt.
01:34… 01:33…
The timer kept burning against his eyes.
"Goddamn it," he whispered, and forced himself forward.
As he reached the classroom, his pulse thundered so loud he could hardly hear. He pushed the door open, and the room went momentarily still as everyone noticed his return.
Emily was still seated by the window, idly scrolling her phone, pretending the earlier scene hadn't happened. Derek smirked at him instantly, leaning back in his chair like he was watching prime-time comedy.
"Well, well," Derek drawled. "Look who came crawling back."
Laughter rippled again.
Kent swallowed hard. His hands shook as he clutched the doorframe. He could feel dozens of eyes drilling into him, waiting for him to collapse again.
The timer ticked.
01:05… 01:04… 01:03…
He had no plan. No clever words. Nothing but raw panic and desperation. His mouth opened before his brain caught up.
"Emily!" he blurted, his voice cracking.
She looked up slowly, brows knitting together in faint annoyance. "What now?"
Kent's mind scrambled. He thought of the System, the mission, the word blush. The only thing he could latch onto was—humor? Teasing? Anything unexpected?
So he blurted the first reckless thing that came to his lips:
"Hey, don't get me wrong, I wasn't confessing earlier. I was just practicing… for your friend!"
A beat of silence.
Emily's eyes widened, her cheeks twitching with surprise before her composure snapped back into place. A few students gasped. Marcus and Tyler froze. Derek nearly spat out his soda.
And then, faintly, impossibly—color bloomed on Emily's cheeks.
[Ding! Quest Complete. Reward: +5 Charm.]
The System's chime rang sharp in Kent's head, almost drowning out the shocked murmurs spreading across the classroom.
Kent blinked, staring at the faint flush on Emily's face.
"…No way," he whispered.
The chime still rang in Kent's ears as though a bell tower had gone off inside his skull.
[Quest Complete. +5 Charm awarded.]
[Current Charm: 5 → 10.]
Another screen slid open in his vision, glowing lines of text arranged like a status panel in a video game.
— Kent Gilbert —
Charm: 10
Confidence: 4
Luck: 3
Skills: [None]
Quests: [Active: 0]
Kent's jaw slackened. He rubbed his eyes furiously, but the screen remained, hovering just past the edge of reality.
"What the hell…" he breathed.
Across the classroom, Emily had already turned back to her phone, clearly irritated at having given him even the slightest reaction. But the damage was done: the blush had been real, plain as day.
Marcus's mouth hung open like a dropped jawbreaker. Tyler blinked in disbelief.
"Did… did she actually—?" Marcus started.
"She totally did," Tyler whispered back. "Dude, she blushed."
Even Derek looked thrown off, his smug grin faltering for a split second before he masked it with a scoff.
Emily huffed, flipping her hair and muttering under her breath. "Whatever. Don't get carried away, Kent."
But Kent barely heard her. His heart raced, his brain struggling to stitch together the insanity of the past five minutes: the voice, the mission, the timer, the impossible success. And now a floating screen telling him his Charm stat had gone up like he'd just leveled up in an RPG.
He stumbled to his desk and dropped into his chair, staring blankly at the board. Marcus leaned over immediately, eyes wide.
"Bro… what the hell just happened?"
Kent swallowed, trying to force his breathing to calm. "I… I don't know."
But in the corner of his mind, the voice purred again, playful and triumphant.
"Congratulations, Host. You have completed your first mission. This is only the beginning. Greater challenges await—and greater rewards too."
Kent pressed a trembling hand to his temple.
"Only the beginning…?" he whispered.
The bell rang overhead, jolting him back to reality. The class began to pack up, chatter buzzing all around, but Kent sat frozen at his desk, staring into a future that had just twisted into something he couldn't begin to understand.