Malric Thorn had always possessed a special talent. It wasn't superhuman strength, razor-sharp intelligence, or any remarkable natural gift. No. His true talent was something far more consistent and reliable: statistically impressive bad luck.
It was the kind of misfortune that ensured toast always landed butter-side down. The kind that made vending machines greedily swallow your last coin not once, but twice in a row. The kind that turned ordinary days into quiet comedies of errors.
And today was shaping up to be no different.
Seriously…?
Malric glanced up at the gray sky as a light rain began to fall, almost as if the clouds had personally decided to join the conspiracy against him. He had forgotten his umbrella again. Of course he had. That was simply how his life worked.
Perfect, he muttered under his breath, shrugging his worn backpack higher onto his shoulder. The bag felt heavier than usual, weighed down not just by textbooks and notebooks, but by the accumulating burden of crushed expectations and quiet disappointments.
He continued walking down the crowded avenue, shoulders hunched against the drizzle. All around him, massive digital billboards and building-sized screens flashed with breaking news. A polished anchorwoman appeared on every display, her expression caught somewhere between professional panic and barely contained excitement.
Confirmed. The anomaly continues to spread globally. Millions of citizens across every continent are reporting the sudden appearance of glowing digital interfaces directly in their field of vision.
Malric let out a long, tired sigh that was almost swallowed by the noise of honking cars and rushing pedestrians.
The gamer apocalypse… just what the world needed, he said sarcastically to himself.
For the past twelve hours, the entire planet had been losing its collective mind over one single topic: the System. Blue translucent windows had begun materializing in front of people's eyes, complete with status screens, class selections, skill trees, experience points, and quests. Reality itself seemed to have glitched and transformed into a living video game. Social media, news channels, and street conversations were flooded with stories of awakened powers — legendary warriors, elemental mages, and elite S-rank hunters emerging overnight.
Malric, however, remained deeply unimpressed.
Probably just a mass hallucination caused by some new experimental virus or a government psy-op, he reasoned aloud, kicking a small pebble along the wet sidewalk. Or maybe everyone finally lost it at the same time.
But even as the skeptical words left his mouth, a bright blue rectangular window suddenly materialized inches from his face, hovering perfectly still in the air. Malric froze mid-step, blinking rapidly.
SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE INITIALIZING SYSTEM
He stared at the glowing text for several long seconds.
Well… looks like the mass hallucination got me too, he muttered dryly. The window didn't disappear.
The interface refreshed with new information.
Detecting user… Name: Malric Thorn Age: 24 Level: 1 Probability of success in life: Low
Hey. That last line was completely unnecessary.
The system ignored his complaint and continued.
Assigning system… Assigning class… Assigning initial skill…
Malric crossed his arms, trying to maintain some dignity despite standing in the rain like an idiot.
At least give me something decent, he said. A powerful mage class would be nice. Or a skilled swordsman. Hell, I'd even settle for a tank at this point.
The window flickered erratically.
ERROR ERROR ERROR
Malric's stomach dropped.
That… really doesn't sound good.
After a tense pause, the text changed once again.
Assigning alternative system… System located
The words appeared slowly this time, almost as if the System itself was hesitating — or worse, enjoying the moment.
S.I.M.I.O System for the Intelligent Mentorship of Incompetent Individuals
Malric read the full name twice, his expression shifting from confusion to pure disbelief.
…Incompetent individuals? he repeated slowly.
Welcome, Malric Thorn, the window responded in crisp, elegant text that somehow managed to sound condescending. You have been selected to bear the system of the most useless hero in the world.
He stood there in the rain, mouth slightly open as the sheer absurdity of the situation settled over him like a wet blanket.
Excuse me?
Don't get too excited, the System added flatly. It was an administrative error.
Malric tilted his head back, staring up into the gray sky as raindrops slid down his face.
Of course. Naturally. I'm the System's glitch. The cosmic bug report.
Correction: You are not a glitch. You are simply an unfortunate statistic.
Thanks. That's incredibly encouraging.
Commencing with your first skill.
A tiny spark of reluctant hope flickered in his chest despite everything.
Alright… surprise me. Give me something actually useful for once.
Skill Unlocked: Animal Conversation Lv. 1 You can now speak with animals.
Malric stared at the notification, waiting for more. Nothing else appeared.
…That's it?
Correct.
You've got to be kidding me.
Did you expect something impressive?
He dragged a hand down his wet face, feeling thoroughly defeated.
I don't even own a pet…
Right then, a smug voice cut through his self-pity.
You look like absolute shit, buddy.
Malric spun around quickly. The street was mostly empty due to the rain, yet the voice persisted.
Down here, genius.
He lowered his gaze. A gray pigeon was perched on the edge of the sidewalk, staring up at him with sharp, intelligent eyes.
No way…
The pigeon tilted its head, clearly amused.
What's the matter? First time seeing a celebrity?
I'm… actually talking to a pigeon right now, Malric said, his voice filled with disbelief.
A very busy pigeon, thank you very much, the bird replied with noticeable attitude. Some of us have places to be.
The blue window popped up again cheerfully.
Congratulations. You have successfully used your skill for the first time.
This is completely ridiculous, Malric groaned, looking upward as if begging the heavens for mercy.
Ridiculous is that sad excuse for a haircut, the pigeon shot back without missing a beat.
System, be honest. Is this ability actually useful for anything practical?
Technically yes, came the immediate reply. Though a plastic spoon would also be useful in a nuclear war.
Malric let out a long, exhausted sigh.
Perfect. My one and only superpower is arguing with rude, sarcastic pigeons.
Achievement Unlocked: First Step Toward Uselessness Reward: +1 Charisma with birds.
The pigeon gave him a slow, judgmental once-over from head to toe.
Still don't respect you. Not even a little.
Malric staggered over to a nearby bench and collapsed onto it, the rain soaking through his clothes. He felt like the universe was actively pushing him deeper into the abyss.
My life was already a complete disaster, he muttered. Now I've got a sarcastic System that enjoys insulting me on top of everything else.
Correction: the window instantly replied. I do not insult you. I merely describe you with flawless scientific accuracy.
Malric pointed an accusing finger at the floating blue box, a small flame of determination finally igniting in his eyes.
You know what? Screw this. I'm going to ignore you completely. I'm just going to walk away and live my normal, boring life like none of this ever happened.
But the moment the words left his mouth, the ground beneath his feet began to tremble violently. A low, guttural rumble echoed from the sewer grate just a few meters away — a sound that carried clear menace.
Oh… that really doesn't sound good, Malric whispered.
The heavy manhole cover started to lift on its own. From the dark opening below, something large and unnatural began to emerge: a grotesque creature roughly the size of a big dog. Its skin was mottled gray, its teeth long and jagged, and its eyes burned with a feral red glow.
The System's window flashed red immediately.
Monster Detected Mutant Rat Lv. 3
Malric's blood ran cold. He stood frozen in place as terror gripped him.
…System.
Yes, Malric Thorn?
That monster is level three.
Correct.
I'm only level one.
Correct.
And my only skill is talking to animals.
Correct.
The mutant rat crept forward with surprising speed, its claws scraping against the wet pavement, lips pulled back in a threatening snarl. Malric swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest.
Last question, then.
Go ahead.
Is there even the slightest chance this ends well for me?
The System paused for half a second — the longest half-second of Malric's life.
Survival probability: 3%.
The rat let out a vicious hiss and launched itself straight at his throat.
At the same moment, a new notification appeared in bold red letters:
Initial Mission Issued: Survive. Reward: +1 Level Penalty for failure: Death
Malric threw both arms up in a desperate, instinctive attempt to protect himself. Just as the creature's razor-sharp teeth were inches from his neck, the System spoke one final time, its tone carrying a hint of genuine intrigue.
Interesting observation.
Malric let out a raw, terrified scream as adrenaline flooded his body.
WHAT?!
This little experiment might prove far more entertaining than I initially anticipated.