Ethan Blackwood gasped as his eyes shot open.
His lungs burned as he inhaled sharply, as if he had been holding his breath for hours. His body jerked upright, and he barely registered the familiar surroundings—the dim, cramped walls of his studio apartment, the faint glow of a streetlamp filtering through the dusty blinds. His heart pounded in his chest, thudding against his ribs with forceful, panicked beats.
His head spun. His fingers clawed at the fabric of his worn-out hoodie, his breathing erratic. What… what the hell was that? The void, the System, the deal—it had all felt terrifyingly real. But now he was back.
Had it been a dream? A hallucination? A last desperate flicker of consciousness before death?
Ethan's trembling hands reached for his phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up. 11:58 PM. The same night. The same moment before everything had gone dark. His pulse pounded in his ears as he stared at the numbers, his mind racing.
Then, just as he started to think he had imagined it all, a golden text box materialized in front of him, hovering midair.
{ Welcome Back, Ethan! }
Ethan yelped and nearly fell off his bed. "Shit—!"
Another notification blinked into existence, this one accompanied by a familiar voice—smooth, teasing, and completely unapologetic.
"Ah, good. You didn't wake up in a cold sweat screaming. Some people take longer to adjust."
Ethan groaned. "Nope. I take it back. This is a nightmare."
The glowing text flickered in amusement. "Oh, don't be dramatic. You're alive, aren't you? Honestly, I thought you'd be happier about that."
Ethan rubbed his temples, trying to steady his thoughts. Okay. Breathe. Process. He wasn't dead. He was here. But so was the System.
"Okay," he said slowly, staring at the hovering text. "So that… that wasn't just some weird fever dream."
"Nope."
"…And I actually made a deal with some cosmic, snarky AI?"
"System, thank you very much. But yes. A deal that is, might I add, still in effect."
Ethan exhaled sharply. He wanted to argue, to deny it, to go back to the version of reality where this wasn't happening. But the floating text and the voice in his head were making that pretty damn impossible.
"Alright," he muttered. "What now?"
The text shifted, the font becoming bolder.
{ FIRST MISSION ISSUED }
Mission: Land a role with at least one speaking line.
Reward: Character Immersion (Intermediate).
Penalty: Memory Fragment Loss (Minor).
Ethan blinked. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Nope! And before you even think about complaining, let me remind you that doing nothing is not an option."
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. "You just dumped me back into my life and immediately throw a mission at me? Can I at least—I don't know—have a few minutes to process the fact that I died?"
The System hummed, as if considering it. "…No."
Ethan let out a strangled laugh. "Great. Awesome."
"Look on the bright side! You get a Welcome Package! How generous am I?"
Ethan scowled. "A what?"
Another golden notification appeared.
{ Welcome Package Unlocked }
{ Skill Acquired: Basic Audition Technique }
A strange sensation flooded Ethan's mind, like a rush of information pouring into him all at once. Techniques, breathing exercises, posture adjustments—things he had struggled to perfect for years—now felt like second nature. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was there, neatly slotted into his knowledge as if he had always known it.
His eyes widened. "That's… weird."
"Convenient, isn't it?" The System sounded smug. "Don't get too used to it, though. I won't be handing out freebies forever."
Ethan shook his head. This was too much. Too fast. But if the System was real—if this was happening—then he had no choice but to play along. He exhaled sharply and set his jaw.
"Fine. A role with a speaking line. How hard can it be?"
"Oh, Ethan," the System chuckled. "Let's find out."
Before Ethan could say another word, a new golden screen appeared in front of him, filling his vision.
{ STATUS SCREEN }
[Name]: Ethan Blackwood
[Age]: 24
[Profession]: Aspiring Actor (Extra)
[Acting Skills]:
Stage Presence: Below Average ★☆☆☆☆ Line Delivery: Weak ★☆☆☆☆ Character Immersion: Poor ★☆☆☆☆ Emotional Range: Mediocre ★★☆☆☆ Cold Reading: Below Average ★☆☆☆☆
[Physical Attributes]:
Face Rating: 7.5/10 (Decent, but forgettable) Physique: Lean, lacks definition Height: 5'11" Voice Control: Moderate ★★☆☆☆ Charisma: Situational ★★☆☆☆
Ethan stared at the screen in horror. "…You have got to be joking."
"Nope." The System practically cackled. "Do you know how sad it is that you've been doing this for eight years and your skills are still at a one-star rating? I mean, buddy, it's almost impressive how bad you are."
Ethan clenched his fists. "I knew I wasn't great, but one-star across the board? Even for cold reading?!"
"I know, right? It's almost like your entire career up until now was tragically pathetic." The System sighed dramatically. "Lucky for you, I'm here. But you'll have to actually put in the work this time."
Ethan rubbed his face. "This is humiliating."
"It should be."
He groaned but forced himself to take a deep breath. If nothing else, at least now he had something tangible to work with. If the System was grading him, that meant he could improve.
Ethan straightened up, determination settling in. "Alright. I'll get that role."
The System's golden text flickered with amusement. "Good. Then let's get to work."