"Beep… beep… beep…"
Groggily, Martin was stirred from sleep by a strange beeping sound.
It reminded him of the cardiac monitor machines that once kept his father alive.
Half-asleep, he shifted on the couch, hoping the sound would fade away. But it didn't. It echoed, persistentalmost as if it were coming from inside his own head.
Today was the weekend. He had planned to sleep in. No classes, no urgent freelance work, nothing due. Just a quiet morning.
Until now.
He reached for his phone and squinted at the screen.
3:00 AM.
A groan escaped his lips. He wasn't just tiredhe was irritated.
The persistent beeping continued, sharp and rhythmic.
He sat up and scanned the dark room, waving his phone's flashlight across the walls and corners. Shadows danced, but nothing looked out of place.
Yet the sound didn't stop. It felt closer, like it was pulsing from somewhere inside the house… or worse, inside his head.
DING.
SYSTEM LOADING COMPLETED.
What the…?
Martin froze. His drowsiness vanished like smoke. That voice it wasn't in the room.
It was in his head.
He blinked. Once. Twice. Then pinched his thigh. Hard.
Pain. Sharp and real.
Was he dreaming?
His heart pounded.
This isn't normal.
Martin was a fan of online literature. He'd read countless system novels protagonists waking up to cheat-like abilities, strange voices guiding them to greatness.His thoughts raced. The metaphysical mystery of the system faded into the background. That line mother diagnosed with terminal cancer echoed louder than any beep.
His mother was his reverse scale. Untouchable. Sacred.
How dare this… this thing claim something so cruel?
Beep.
The host's emotions are out of control.
Beep.
The host's emotions are out of control.
Beep.
The host's emotions are out of control.
Gone was the novelty of the system. Martin needed answers. Now.
He leapt to his feet, ready to run upstairs, ready to confront her, to demand the truth. She was his only relative. The only person who mattered.
He paused.
What if… What if this is just a nightmare?
If it was, he wanted to wake up. He'd trade anything for it.
Beep.
"Shut the hell up!" Martin shouted.
He was done with the so-called system.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Host mission is assigned.Host mission is assigned.
Mission world assigned.
Host, prepare.
You will be teleported to the mission world in 3… 2… 1…
The world fell silent.
Martin was furious.
He did not consent to this.
This wasn't cool. This wasn't fun. It was kidnapping.
Why now, of all times?
His mother needed him.
He didn't care about systems, cultivation, or some cosmic game run by a bored puppet master.
To make it worse, this "system" had dropped a bombshell and expected him to leave just like that?
He wanted to hold his mother. Tell her it would be okay. Even if it was a lie.
He didn't want to die.
He'd read the stories. The tropes. Protagonists thrown into other worlds, forced to train for centuries, even millions of years.
But how could someone live for so long… and still remember their mother? Their family?
The people they only shared a few short years with?
It wasn't realistic.
He didn't want to forget.
He didn't want to regret.
The so-called system was unreliable as hell.
No explanation. No manual. No functions. Not even a status window.
How the hell had it even bound itself to him?
In the novels, protagonists always had a choice a glowing screen, a button, maybe even a contract signed in blood. Some were granted their systems by gods, others by negotiating with ancient beings or AI.
But him?
Nothing.
No choice. No warning. Just a voice in his head and the beeping that tore through his sleep and sanity.
He didn't even know what kind of system it was.
Some lucky bastards got slacker systems, letting them level up in their sleep. Others received cashback systems, god-tier inventories, intelligence boosters, or infinite respawns.
But him?
Nothing.
No perks. No introductions. Just silence… and a mission.
And now he was being dragged — no, dumped — into some unknown mission world.
Where could he complain?
Where was the support button? The admin? A customer care line?
Who would listen to his grievance?
Who the hell gave this system the right to hijack his life?
Martin clenched his fists, fury burning behind his eyes.
All he wanted was to talk to the one behind it all just once.
Not to fight.
Not to beg.
Just to ask… why?
Why him?
Why now?
Why tear him away from the only person he still loved?
Despite his frustration, the system didn't respond.
It was like it never even existed in the first place.
Martin was left alone with his thoughts.
He wondered if he'd ever see his mother again.
And if what that unreliable thing had said was true… she didn't have much time left.
He didn't care about school. Or work. Or anything else.
Apart from his mother, no one would miss him.
He was a background mob in a classic novel the kind the author didn't bother to name. Just one of "the people watching." A face in the crowd.
And he knew it.
The only regret he had left…
Was leaving her.
He shouted in his mind, nothing replied. The beeping sound was gone.
Like an angry bull he wished to tear that thing apart. He was seething and helpless.