The glow of the system had become part of my daily life, like an invisible friend perched on my shoulder. I had studied, failed, pushed harder, and triumphed. But now, something new pulsed at the edges of my vision, brighter than any textbook quest.
[Special Quest Unlocked: Public Presentation]
Objective: Showcase your skills in a public forum (debate, talent show, or competition).
Reward: 1000 ZWD | +2 Academic Mastery | Reputation +3.
Penalty for Failure: Confidence -2 | Reputation -2.
My breath caught. This was different. This wasn't about memorizing formulas or cooking dinner. This was about stepping into the world—and letting it judge me.
I thought of my idols, Ohm and Pond, standing under spotlights, their voices echoing across halls filled with cheering fans. Could I—ordinary Shelly—take even the smallest step toward that kind of stage?
---
Two days later, opportunity knocked in the most unexpected form. Our school was hosting a district-level debate competition. Students were buzzing with excitement, the kind of excitement that usually drained me. But as I overheard classmates whispering about the open slots for participants, the system shimmered before my eyes.
[Target Identified: Debate Competition]
Difficulty: High | Suitable for Special Quest.
I swallowed hard. Debate. Speaking in front of crowds had always been my weakness. My tongue would twist, my palms sweat, my thoughts scatter. But if the system believed this was my path, how could I ignore it?
---
Signing up felt like diving into cold water. My teacher's eyebrows shot up in surprise when I volunteered. "Shelly? Are you sure?"
"Yes," I said, though my voice trembled.
At home, Clifton laughed when he heard. "You? Speaking in front of people? You'll faint before you say hello."
Leratho defended me fiercely. "No, she won't! She's smart! Smarter than you!"
My mother said little, but I caught the flicker of concern in her eyes. She knew me too well.
That night, the system prepared me with quests tailored to the challenge:
[Mini Quest: Master Debate Techniques – Persuasion Basics]
Reward: +1 Communication Skill.
[Mini Quest: Practice Voice Projection – 30 Minutes Daily]
Reward: +1 Confidence.
I obeyed each task with military precision. I argued with my reflection, debated imaginary opponents, and practiced speaking so loudly that Clifton yelled for me to shut up. The system rewarded each effort with tiny progress bars and points, turning my fear into fuel.
---
The day of the debate arrived. The school hall was packed with students, teachers, and even parents. My stomach churned. My palms were slick. For a moment, I wanted to run.
[Decision Point: Face the Stage vs. Retreat]
Retreat: Quest Failed | Confidence -2 | Reputation -2.
Face the Stage: Proceed | Rewards Pending.
My chest tightened, but I lifted my chin. Face the stage.
When my name was called, I walked forward, my legs shaky but my heart steady. The lights were blinding, the murmurs of the crowd deafening—but then I saw it: a faint golden outline around the podium, glowing with the system's encouragement.
As I opened my mouth, the system whispered hints—pauses, emphasis, rhetorical flourishes. Slowly, my fear melted into rhythm. Words flowed, sharp and confident, as though they had been waiting all along.
When I delivered my final argument, the hall erupted in applause. Not polite, not pitying—real applause. My classmates stared, stunned. My teacher's eyes shone with pride. And for once, Clifton had no joke to make.
Ding!
[Special Quest Complete: Public Presentation]
Reward: 1000 ZWD | +2 Academic Mastery | Reputation +3.
A crisp stack of notes appeared later in my wallet, but the money wasn't what mattered most. For the first time in my life, I had faced a crowd, spoken my truth, and been heard.
---
That night, as I lay in bed, the applause still echoing in my ears, I realized something profound. The system wasn't just pushing me to study harder—it was pushing me to become someone more. Someone who could dream bigger, stand taller, and maybe, just maybe, find her way to the stage where idols shined.
For the first time, I believed it: my story could be more than survival. It could be stardom.