According to the script, after Shirase's "Four-Man Ambush Squad" jumped down, the director didn't call cut, and the male lead launched into his cool routine.
The lead threw a sloppy left front kick, and the extra charging him obligingly flung himself backward.
At first, Shirase worried the damned System would make trouble. But seeing it stay quiet after landing and just blend in with the other extras, he relaxed—for now.
Emphasis on "for now."
A quick scan told him this production definitely hadn't paid for a fight choreographer.
And if they had, it was clearly an amateur.
Whenever the lead fought one extra, the rest just circled, striking flashy poses and shuffling around—never actually attacking.
Only after the lead dropped one did the next rush up, shouting threats.
This kind of fight, with a crowd reduced to one-on-one turns, was something Shirase remembered from old movies. He never expected to stumble into such a braindead scene today.
"Hey, don't just stand there! Get in there!" hissed a nearby extra when he saw the System frozen. He kept his voice low to avoid the mics near the lead.
After a beat, the System started mimicking the extras' exaggerated poses.
[Host, is this really how you humans film TV fights?]
"Oh? You're actually interested?" Shirase asked inwardly.
Given how the damned System usually couldn't hold a basic conversation, the question piqued his curiosity.
[Not interest. The System simply finds this stupid—utterly stupid!]
The doubled "stupid" almost made Shirase laugh.
Honestly, he agreed. These fights were truly dumb.
These days, hire a decent choreographer and you'd never end up with something this embarrassing.
While the System silently griped, the male lead had already flattened six extras in a row and was charging at Shirase.
Sensing no illegal activity, the System wisely didn't attack.
But when the lead put on a serious face, aimed a kick at Shirase's chest, and shouted his line, the previously cooperative System finally moved.
With a casual lift of its arm, it caught the kick midair—effortlessly.
The set went still.
"Knew it," Shirase sighed. The damned System just couldn't help itself.
Under everyone's stare, the System held the lead's leg and said coldly:
"Your forehand is weak, your backhand is awful, your footwork sloppy, your reactions slow—yet you dare challenge me? Keep dreaming."
"Huh?" The male lead's face turned into question marks.
"Cut!" The director sprang up, scowling at Shirase. "What is this extra doing? Who told you to ad-lib? You don't have a single line!"
This is bad. Really bad.
Watching anxiously, Nakano Ichika had no idea how to help. She'd earned some respect for her hard work, but she was still a small supporting role. In a rigid, unforgiving hierarchy, what could a nobody do?
"I wasn't ad-libbing," the System said, releasing the baffled lead. "By my assessment, his kick had no power and was extremely slow. Taking that would be humiliating."
The lead gave an awkward laugh. "It's scripted, man. Don't make trouble."
The System answered earnestly, "If it were me, the fight would look better."
"Hah?" The director barked a laugh—first time an extra had ever talked back like this. He turned to the crew. "Who brought this guy in?"
Blank faces all around. No one knew Shirase.
Nakano Ichika finally stepped forward. "Director-san, I—"
"Ichika, it's not your scene," he cut her off.
He didn't give her another chance, glaring at Shirase instead. "You said if it were you, the fight would look better?"
"Not just better—more powerful," the System replied.
"Damned System, you really want to keep stirring the pot? I've never learned to act—I'm a total amateur," Shirase warned inwardly.
[Host, relax. Trust the System. The System is omnipotent. The System's purpose: let the host hand over control and enjoy life with one click.]
"…Looks more like 'one click to instant chaos' to me," Shirase muttered.
"Director, should I escort him out?" a crew assistant asked, sensing the tension.
The director sneered. "Wait. Since this kid's so confident our choreography sucks, let's see his skills."
He waved Shirase forward. "Your time to shine."
He wasn't being kind. He wanted a show.
No one dared speak now. In their eyes, this reckless extra was about to be tossed.
Ichika bit her lip. She'd already decided: if the director wasn't satisfied, she'd jump in and plead. Even if she couldn't save his spot—
Wait. How did he even get in here?
The more she thought, the more confused she got. At first she'd suspected he'd followed her. But seeing him slide into the extras—and perform convincingly—she started to doubt herself.
Could Shirase be secretly acting on the side, like me?
While Ichika sank into confusion, the fearless System finally moved.
Under everyone's gaze, it took two quick steps toward the wall, planted one foot, spun beautifully in midair, and snapped off a flawless spinning back kick.
As it landed, the director blurted, shocked, "A taekwondo spinning back kick? You've trained in taekwondo?"
Even by his standards, there wasn't a flaw to pick.
More importantly, the move was flashy, difficult, and guaranteed to wow an audience.
With their tight budget, they'd never been able to hire real fight choreographers.
Watching the System throw out textbook taekwondo, the director's eyes lit up.
Forget whether it was practical—the visuals were killer.
"Not just taekwondo," the System said proudly. "I'm also proficient in judo, karate, boxing, and sanda."
An all-around fighter?!
The director's excitement only grew. "Can you show me all of it?"
Ichika blinked. Did Shirase just clear the hurdle?
Shirase was just as lost. "Something's off. Why isn't the director mad? Are they really that desperate for action talent?"
"No problem," the System said, ignoring Shirase and nodding to the director.
With zero stage fright, it ran through judo, sanda, karate, boxing—everything—right there.
Midway, it even added several high-difficulty wall flips, setting a few female crew members' hearts aflutter.
The male lead, embarrassed at first by his own lack of skill, now felt no shame at all.
He gave up on the spot.
I surrender. Instant KO. What else is there to say?