A Retired Blake

In a neatly arranged apartment, a tall middle-aged man was eating his breakfast while seemingly talking to no one. If people could see him, they would assume that he lost it. The figure seemed to be in his mid fities yet an oppressing feeling emanated from him; the simple grey shirt could hardly hide his athletic and strong body while his shorts surrounded his firm and toned legs.

"It's been 20 years and you're still clinging onto that damn rule? I know that would be a little easy and a little anti-climatic if I made it myself but... come on, be with me on this one." Blake tried to plead to the unmovable voice in his head.

[Negative]

[Host cannot create his own world and transmigrate in it]

[Host has to find an already existing work of fiction for the the transmigration]

Repeated the monotonous system for the hundredth time already.

"I wouldn't be complaining that much if I could choose the way I transmigrate you know? If I didn't ask you that day how it would happen, I would be utterly fuc**ed once I get into another world." With a "pitful" expresison, Blake tried to gain the sympathy of the stoic system to no avail.

[Even though transmigration is random, Host can choose the time and location]

[It is a balanced rule that host has to follow]

[Balanced my *ss. Random is random, I can transmigrate into anything even an animal. That's not balanced at all! If I turn into something like a cockroach I swear that I will make you listen to Crazy Frog in my head for the rest of my cockroach existence."

[...]

[System doesn't choose the transmigration rules]

[As such, transmigration should not be blamed on the System]

Said the disembodied voice, remembering the dark times where Blake would make the sytem listen to Crazy Frog because it annoyed him.

"You better be right." ominously said a mischievious Blake as he remembered the good times, where he would mutually destroy both his and the system's sanity for trivial reasons.

Finishing his breakfast, he got up and cleaned the rest of last night's dishes, and left with the same old backpack he owned for years.

...

30 years later

In a hospital room, a 80-year old man could be seen doing his last sets of pushups as sweat envelopped his surprisingly well-built physique, his eyes reflecting unparalelled determination as he finished his last moves. Panting heavily, he slowly rose up fom the ground and took a carton of milk from a table nearby. A gulp became two, then 5 and before he knew it, Blake drank half of the milky liquid.

"Ahh, that's the stuff." An old and elderly voice was heard as Blake took great pleasure drinking the beverage.

[496 millimeters ingested], the intemporal system proclaimed.

"Profile, please." Blake said with the same half closed eyes that has been with him for almost all his life.

____________________

<Blake Bourne>

<Title> Origin

<Age> 80

<Strength> 40 (-20)

<Agility> 40 (-20)

<Dexterity> 40 (-20)

<Intelligence> 40 (-20)

<Skills>

- Observe: the more you look at something or someone, the easier it gets to find details (7/10)

- Acting: You face is a mask to protect yourself, deceive others and adapt to any situation (5/10

- Intermediate hands-to hands combat (5/10)

- Surpass: You are tired but you keep going, greater rewards await you (6/10)

<Passive Skills>

- Chaotic Serenity

Evaluation: An elderly human once a fearful fighter. He should now be careful of goblins armed with a stick.

____________________

*sigh* "Even now it's still sad to see my so hard earned points go to waste." muttered Blake as he looked at the bright, multicolored floating screen.

[It is an inevitable processus for the Host to lose stats as he grow older]

[The lost points will be recovered once the host transmigrates]

[And they will no longer disappear because of growing older]

The system comnforted Blake for the hundreth times as it heard the same complaints over and over again.

"I know that but seeing them like that-". But before Blake could finish his sentence, the door opened and revealed a woman in her 30s looking striaght at Blake and staring daggers at the poor old man.

She had fair skin, shoulder-length raven hair and a pleasing aura surrounding her. The maturity in her body language was emphasized by her white nurse like clothing,

"Mr Bourne, are you still exercising even though we strictly told you not to. Being active is great but exercing too much at your age is detrimental."

'Here we go again', said an exaspearated Blake as his previous bored and easy-going demanor turned into a stoic and serious body language.

"Mrs Rose, I am a retired bodybuilder and fighter and therefore, I am more durable than the average Joe. You shouldn't worry about me."

Indeed Blake for the sake of increasing his skills, decided to take part in all sort of competitions for the past 50 years and won notoriety and numerous prizes for himself. Due to his usual morning routine, he didn't really need to exercice that much, but he still exerciced a little more in order to level up his <Surpass> skill faster.

Additionally, he participated in many fight contests which made him win a hefty sum of money, and a title that he grew fond of.

"Right Mr 'Big B', I just hope you don't overestimate yourself and come back injured with your displayed trophy once again. I am a nurse and it's my job to take care of my patients", said the nurse as she squinted her eyes at the various shiny and glistening trophies next to the man's bed.

The elderly smiled faintly, "Yes you are, and if I happen to accidentally injure myself again, I shall immediatly request your services."

Blake said with serious care in his words, however in his mind, a bickering was happening between two acquaintances.

[If Host had listened to the System's advice, the current situation could have been avoided]

"Heh! How could I refuse that little girl? She looked at me with hope and wonder as if I was her superhero or something."

[Negative, Host was given currency by the daughter's brother in order to impress her with a backflip]

'...'

'Small details. If not for your stupid warnings I would have made a perfect landing and everyone would have lived happily ever after. But here we are, me with head injuries and you forced to listen to Crazy Frog.'

[...]

After he won the short debate, Blake refocused on the lady in front of him, Olivia Rose; 32 year old, she was the daughter of one of Blake's friend, his current persona. Because he once helped his father Oliver, get out of financial issues, both of them became good friends. Therefore, when he heard about Blake being hospitalized, he asked her daughter who was in the same facility as him to check on his old friend from time to time.

As she sighed, Olivia looked at the stoic man and said, "Just.. be careful." A look of worry written on her face.

"I will," confidently said persona Blake as he saw her leaving his room. 'I have a system to help me after all'

As the door closed, Blake's whole personality reverted back to his casual demanor and happily said to the system.

"Are you ready for our karaoke, buddy?" A terrifying grin appearead on Blake's withered skin as he took a phone on his bed.

[...]

[Negative]

"That's too bad. Don't worry, I'll just play it for 6 hours. Hahaha!" And with his signature chuckle, the thumb fell upon the device, opening the gate of hell for both the deranged Blake and the poor system.

"Playing Crazy Frog by Axel F"

...