The alarm clock's shrill beeping was muffled, trapped somewhere beneath the sweater she'd thrown over it last night. Han Areum groaned, burrowing deeper into the blanket, but the noise cut through even that.
Her hand emerged, pale fingers fumbling across the nightstand until they brushed soft fabric. She pushed the sweater aside and smacked the alarm into silence.
The room was still dim, painted in shades of gray and gold from the early morning sun. Pale light leaked through thin curtains, dust motes swirling lazily in the beams. Somewhere outside, the faint clatter of a bus echoed against the walls of the narrow street.
Areum stayed still for a moment, listening to the world wake up. Her eyes landed on the shelf opposite her bed — the one sagging slightly under the weight of Silverlight albums and photo cards. She'd been up past midnight replaying their dance practice videos, eyes tracking every move, every flick of a hand, every shift in weight.
They make it look so easy, she thought, sitting up slowly. Her back twinged from staying in bed too long.
And then she froze.
Something hung in the air in front of her.
It wasn't dust. It wasn't a reflection from her phone screen.
It was a rectangle of faint, glowing light — translucent but sharp enough to read.
[System Initialization Complete]
Name: Han Areum
Age: 16
Talent 1: Evolution – Infinite growth of all stats and skills.
Talent 2: Equal Growth – When one stat increases, all stats increase equally.
Stats:
Strength: 1
Agility: 1
Endurance: 1
Coordination: 1
Charisma: 1
Intelligence: 1
Willpower: 1
Skills:
Singing Lv.1 (0/100 EXP)
Dancing Lv.1 (0/100 EXP)
Stage Presence Lv.1 (0/100 EXP)
Korean Lv.5 (Passive)
English Lv.2 (Passive)
Note: Stats increase only through physical exercise.
Skill EXP increases by 1 per use.
Her breath caught.
"What… is this?" she whispered.
The glowing screen didn't flicker. Didn't move. It was simply there.
She reached forward. Her fingers passed right through it, meeting only empty air.
It followed her when she shifted her head. She blinked rapidly, but it stayed. Even when she looked down at her knees, it hovered faintly in the corner of her vision, never blocking her but never disappearing either.
This… is like a game interface.
But this wasn't some app she'd downloaded. This had her name. Her age. Skills she'd never formally learned.
A cold, restless excitement twisted in her stomach.
---
She dressed in her uniform, the crisp navy skirt brushing against her knees, blazer snug against her shoulders. Downstairs, the scent of frying eggs filled the kitchen.
Her mother stood at the stove, hair in a loose bun, spatula in hand. "Eat quickly, Areum. You're going to be late."
Areum hovered at the edge of the kitchen. "Mom…"
Her mother glanced at her briefly. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Areum muttered, sliding into her seat. She couldn't say it. The words would sound ridiculous.
She ate mechanically, the warmth of rice and egg grounding her while her thoughts spun.
---
The streets to school were the same as always — narrow sidewalks lined with convenience stores and stationery shops. Students in different uniforms passed in little clusters, some with bread between their teeth, others laughing loudly.
The panel floated before her eyes the whole way.
When she stepped into her classroom, Park Minji waved from her window seat. "Areum! Almost late again!"
Areum smiled faintly and dropped into the seat beside her. "Traffic," she lied.
The teacher droned at the board. Areum's gaze kept flicking to the word Singing in her skills list.
What if… I try it?
She waited until the room's chatter swelled during a worksheet break, then hummed softly under her breath. Just enough to feel her vocal cords vibrate, not enough for anyone to hear clearly.
A faint +1 EXP appeared beside "Singing."
Her fingers tightened around her pencil. It works.
She tried again, this time holding a note longer. +1 EXP.
By lunch, she had:
Singing Lv.1 (7/100)
---
Gym class was the real test.
They were running laps around the track, the early spring air cool enough to sting her nose. Her shoes slapped against the rough surface in rhythm with her heartbeat. After a few minutes, her breathing was steady but her calves began to ache.
At the seven-minute mark, her thighs joined in, burning with each push forward. She kept her eyes fixed on the student ahead of her, willing herself not to slow down.
Her lungs drew in air that no longer felt satisfying. Every inhale came with a sharper edge.
Nine minutes in, sweat had worked its way down her temples, stinging her eyes. Her arms pumped harder as she rounded the last curve.
And then—
Ding.
She stumbled for half a second before catching herself. A quick glance brought up:
Strength: 2
Agility: 2
Endurance: 2
Coordination: 2
Charisma: 2
Intelligence: 2
Willpower: 2
All of them had risen at once.
Her body still burned, but now her pulse was spiked with exhilaration.
---
That night, she locked her bedroom door.
Her phone propped against a stack of books, a dance practice video queued up. The screen lit the room in pale blue, the music spilling softly from the speaker.
"Twenty minutes," she murmured, starting the timer.
The first minute was awkward — her body lagging behind the moves on screen. She had to rewind twice just to get the footwork right.
By three minutes, her calves were already warming, a tension building in the muscles. She shook her legs out and started again.
At seven minutes, sweat clung to her skin, her breathing heavier. She wiped her forehead quickly and kept going, counting five, six, seven, eight under her breath.
At nine minutes, her knees wobbled during a turn. She clenched her teeth, pushed through, and finished the set.
Ding.
The sound rang in her ears like a reward. Her stats had risen again.
She still had ten minutes to go.
By the time the timer chimed at twenty, she collapsed onto her bed, chest heaving, hair damp against her neck. She checked her panel:
Dancing Lv.1 (18/100)
Strength: 3
Agility: 3
Endurance: 3
Coordination: 3
Charisma: 3
Intelligence: 3
Willpower: 3
Slow. Hard. Real.
For the first time, the stage didn't feel like a dream. It felt like a destination.