5. System Administrator

Then, with a snap, the darkness shattered into light. Trying to focus when my eyes adjusted, I found myself in a stark white room. The walls were smooth and featureless, the kind of place that made you feel like you were on the set of a low-budget sci-fi movie. A single desk sat in the middle of the room, cluttered with paperwork, a monitor, and a keyboard attached by cords disappearing into a hole on the desk.

Seated behind the desk was a man. He was tall, lean, and dressed in a sharp black suit with a red tie. His brown hair was slicked back, and his face had that kind of annoying handsomeness you see in toothpaste commercials.

"Have a seat, Kaizen," he said, gesturing to a sofa that appeared behind me as if the room itself had conjured it.

Well, that was unsettling.

"Uh, sure," I muttered, shuffling over to the sofa and plopping down.

"I'll be with you momentarily," he added, already turning back to his monitor and clacking away at the keyboard.

I sat there, unsure of what to say or do. My heart was still pounding from the fight with the Goblin Chief, and my whole body ached.

'Is this heaven? Hell? Or did that Goblin Chief's club hit me harder than I thought?'

"Good evening, Kaizen," the man finally said, turning to face me. "My name is Kyle Davidson. I'm your system administrator."

"System administrator?" I repeated. "What are you, tech support for my crappy life?"

Kyle smirked. "In a way, yes. But let's start with the basics. Do you know why you're here?"

I leaned back on the sofa, wincing as my ribs reminded me they weren't happy. "Uh… no clue, unless this is the part where you congratulate me for slaying that steroid-guzzling goblin."

Kyle chuckled softly. "Congratulations are in order. Not many people make it past their first mission. But we need to talk about the system, how it works, and what's expected of you moving forward."

He stood up and began pacing in front of the desk, his hands clasped behind his back like he was about to give a TED Talk.

"Kaizen," Kyle began, "you've been chosen to undertake a series of 100 missions. These missions are tailored to your needs, desires, and sometimes even your fears. They will test you in every way imaginable—physically, mentally, and morally."

I snorted. "Yeah, because fighting a horde of goblins with raging hard-ons wasn't already the test of a lifetime."

Kyle ignored my comment and continued. "Fifty of the missions will revolve around your personal growth—things you want or need, whether you realize it or not. Forty of the missions are randomized, ranging from simple tasks like finding treasure to more… morally complex objectives, such as killing an ally or lover. To be honest with you, this two types are hard to differentiate and most of the time you won't event know which is which."

"Lovely," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "So, I'm basically playing 'Survivor,' but with monsters and death."

Kyle smirked. "That's one way to look at it. But it gets better. Every tenth mission is what we call a 'special mission.' These are designed by the gods to shake up the status quo—your status quo. They're unpredictable and often game-changing. And unlike regular missions, you can't skip or change them."

"Wait, hold up." I raised a hand. "Did you just say I can skip missions? Because that sounds like the kind of loophole I'd love to exploit."

Kyle stopped pacing and turned to me, his expression serious. "Yes, you can delay or skip a mission. Twice."

"Twice per mission?"

He nodded. "Correct. You can delay or skip a mission for up to 15 hours or half a day but the third time you try to avoid it, you'll die. No warnings, no second chances. The system will terminate you on the spot."

I whistled low. "Yikes. So basically, procrastination equals instant death. Got it."

Kyle smiled faintly. "It's a privilege, not a right. Use it wisely."

Kyle returned to his desk and pulled something from the drawer—a trio of slips that looked suspiciously like lottery tickets.

"These are your mission modification tickets," he said, handing them to me. "You get three. Ever. If you come across a mission you find morally reprehensible or simply impossible, you can use one of these to change it. But keep in mind, once you change a mission, that's it—you can't undo it. And they don't work on special missions."

I turned the tickets over in my hand, frowning. "So, what happens when I finish all 100 missions? Do I get a shiny trophy or a pat on the back?"

Kyle's expression darkened slightly. "That's for the Almighty to decide. The last person to complete all 100 missions became the Almighty himself. That was ten million years ago. No one has come close since, not even half the missions."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, what? Everyone just gives up?"

Kyle hesitated, his gaze flickering to the monitor on his desk. "Most don't make it past the first few missions. They're either overwhelmed by the difficulty or…"

"Or what?" I pressed.

"Let's just say the system has a way of weeding out those who lack resolve," he replied cryptically.

"Well, this has been a fun little chat," I said, rising from the sofa and wincing at the sharp pain in my side. "Anything else I need to know before I go back to my regularly scheduled nightmare?"

Kyle smiled. "Just this: every decision you make, every action you take, will have consequences. The system isn't just about completing missions—it's about shaping who you are. Remember that, Kaizen of Vale."

I frowned. "Great. Thanks for the cryptic life advice, Mr. System Admin. Can I go now?"

Kyle waved a hand, and the white room began to fade.

"Good luck, Eto," his voice echoed as everything went black.

***

The world around me swam back into in slow motion, like the hazy aftereffects of a brutal night out. I blinked once, then twice, feeling the weight of exhaustion, pain, and confusion press down on me like a ton of bricks. My body was stiff and aching, each muscle and joint screaming at me in protest as I shifted under the thin blanket.

'God, my head feels like it's been hit with a fucking sledgehammer.'

I tried to sit up, but a searing pain shot through my side, followed by a wave of dizziness. I gritted my teeth and forced my body to obey, but my every move felt like I was pushing through broken glass.

"Fuck... what the hell happened?" I muttered under my breath.

I glanced down at myself and immediately regretted it. My body was covered in bandages, patches of gauze and cloth wrapped around my arms, torso, and legs like some kind of half-assed mummy. The white walls of the room were unfamiliar, and the faint smell of herbs and antiseptic hung in the air. This wasn't a typical inn room, and I definitely wasn't in my own bed.

'Ronta Vro...'

Right. The village. The mission.

I ran a hand through my messy hair, the pain from my fractured ribs and bruised muscles intensifying with every motion. That fucking goblin chief—how the hell did it hit me so hard? The pain was almost unbearable. It felt like my entire body had been used as a battering ram.

I groaned and lay back down, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the memories of what Kyle had told me.

I started to recall the rules. The system. The missions.

'100 missions...'

The weight of that hung heavy on my chest. Kyle said I had completed the first one—barely—and I was already thinking about the next 99. Fifty of them were supposed to cater to my desires and needs. Fine. I could live with that. But the other forty—random as hell—meant facing whatever twisted crap the system thought was a good idea. And the special missions...? Every tenth mission was meant to fuck with everything, to twist the world around me.

The idea of completing all 100 missions and being granted the title of Almighty, a literal god, was... tempting. But could I really handle that kind of power? Could anyone? I mean, the whole "god" thing sounded fucking great on paper, but the risks were astronomical. The system was more like a trial by fire than a simple quest. If I fucked up...

'The third skip means death.'

I groaned and rolled my head to the side. The pain was too much to think straight. I was already regretting my involvement with the damn system. But then again... I didn't have a choice, did I? Once I stepped into this mess, there was no walking out. It was either finish these missions or die trying.

"Great," I muttered bitterly, "I'm stuck in some kind of cosmic lottery. And no way out. Fucking fantastic."

Still, the thought of the power... becoming a god... Maybe that was worth it.

Just as I started to drift into another wave of painful contemplation, a voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Are you awake?"

The door creaked open, and I snapped my eyes open, blinking rapidly to clear the fog in my head. In walked a woman with dark hair, dressed in simple medieval garb—nothing flashy, just a plain dress and an apron. She had average features, nothing particularly striking, but there was a kindness in her eyes.

She set a tray down on the small table beside my bed, then came over with a cool, damp cloth in her hand.

"Here," she said softly, lifting the cloth to my forehead. "You're burning up. Let me help with that fever."

I let out a frustrated sigh, not in the mood for anyone's kindness right now.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, wincing as I tried to shift my position. "This fucking hurts... every goddamn bone in my body feels like it's been turned into jelly. Did I get hit by a fucking bus?"

She pressed the cloth to my forehead gently, her touch surprisingly tender. "You were in quite a battle, sir. We heard about what happened with the goblins. You saved the village's women, and you kept our son safe. You did good work."

I grunted, still too annoyed by the pain to really focus on what she was saying. "Yeah, yeah. Saved the damsels in distress. But I gotta say, I don't feel too heroic right now. Feels like I'm being torn apart from the inside out."

The woman smiled slightly, then pulled the blanket off me. "Let me help with your temperature first, and then I'll bring you some food. I imagine you're starving."

I wasn't in the mood for food. I was in the mood to curl up and die, but I didn't say that aloud. Instead, I just nodded, closing my eyes as she started gently wiping the sweat from my face with a clean cloth.

As she worked, I let out a long sigh, trying to distract myself from the excruciating pain. I could feel the cold cloth soothing my fever, but the pain in my ribs, arms, and legs was a constant throb in the background. I just couldn't escape it.

She straightened up, stepping back from the bed. "I'll bring you something to eat once you're feeling better."

As she turned to leave, I said, "Thanks... for the help." The words felt awkward coming out, but it was the truth.

As she left the room, closing the door behind her, I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. It had been a weird, tense moment, but it felt... normal. Human

Just as the door clicked shut behind her, a strange sensation washed over me. My vision blurred momentarily, then suddenly, a screen appeared in front of me. A holographic display, only visible to me, flickered into existence, and I had to blink a few times to focus.

***---***

Mission 1 Complete:

• Primary Objective: Rescue the girls. ✅

• Secondary Objective: Defeat the Goblin Chief. ✅

Reward:

• 5 Gold Coins

• New Equipment: Enchanted Leather Armor

• New Weapon: Black Blade

Health Restored to Default

Mission 2 Pending Approval

***---***

I stared at the screen, still not entirely convinced this wasn't some kind of fucked-up dream. I had completed the first mission, which I barely survived, and now my health was back to normal. Enchanted leather armor and a black blade? Not bad.

Well, at least the system didn't screw me over completely, I thought, scratching my head. "Maybe it ain't that bad... I'll take the armor and the gold. Could be worse."

I lay back on the bed, still feeling a bit off but relieved that the system had at least given me something useful. But the nagging feeling of the next mission hung over me, and I couldn't shake the sense that the real challenge was only beginning.