Lin Mo didn't sleep well.
Not that he expected to, after what had happened.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that glowing interface hovering in the darkness, the cold, mechanical voice echoing in his mind. Ability Management System. The words felt absurd—like something out of a sci-fi movie or a poorly written game. But it wasn't a game. It wasn't a dream.
It was real.
And he was terrible at it.
According to the system, he had the potential of a "statistically irrelevant human being." An E- rating. The lowest possible score. Useless. Worthless. A liability.
Great. Just great.
He spent most of the night tossing and turning, half-expecting the system to start talking again, maybe throw in another insult for good measure. But when morning finally came, the room was silent—no voices, no glowing text, no sudden revelations.
For a moment, he wondered if it had all been some bizarre hallucination brought on by exhaustion or stress.
Then he remembered the interface. The words. The ratings.
No. It was real.
And now, he had to figure out what to do next.
It was just past 9 a.m. when the voice returned.
🔊 [Lin Mo.]
He nearly jumped. The voice was calm, emotionless, and annoyingly direct—as always.
🔊 [I hope you enjoyed your nap. Because your first assignment starts now.]
Lin Mo blinked, sitting up in bed. "Wait, what? Already? I just… I just got this thing."
🔊 [You've had it since last night. The fact that you're only reacting now says a lot about your initiative. Or lack thereof.]
"I wasn't exactly given a manual," Lin Mo muttered, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbing his face. "What kind of assignment are we talking about?"
🔊 [Simple. Observe. Analyze. Report.]
🔊 [Your task: Find one individual in your immediate vicinity who exhibits signs of possessing an ability. Observe their behavior. Document patterns. Submit a brief analysis within the next 24 hours.]
Lin Mo frowned. "Wait, what do you mean, 'an ability'? Like… superpowers? People walking around with superpowers and I'm just supposed to spot one?"
🔊 [Precisely. Though I doubt they'll be flying or shooting lasers from their eyes. Most abilities are subtle. Enhanced reflexes. Increased durability. Minor telekinesis. Things that blend into everyday life. Your job is to notice them.]
🔊 [Think of it as… field training. Or survival preparation. Either way, it's your first step. Don't screw it up.]
Lin Mo sighed, standing up and pacing his small room. "Okay… fine. I'll look around. But how am I supposed to know who has an ability? What am I even looking for?"
🔊 [That's your problem, not mine. Use your eyes. Your brain. Your intuition. If you have any of those.]
Lin Mo rolled his eyes—mentally, at least. "Great. No pressure."
🔊 [There is always pressure. The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be.]
For the next several hours, Lin Mo kept his eyes open.
He went about his usual morning routine—grabbing a quick breakfast, checking his phone, avoiding eye contact with classmates—but his mind kept drifting back to the task. He thought about the people around him. Classmates. Neighbors. The barista at the campus coffee shop he visited almost every day.
And then it hit him.
Emily.
She worked at the little café near the student union. Young, quiet, always focused. The kind of person who moved with strange precision—like she could predict exactly when the next customer would walk in. She never spilled a drink. Never looked rushed. And her reflexes? Sharp. Once, when a tray nearly slipped from her hands, she caught it without even thinking.
Lin Mo made his way to the café around noon.
He ordered his usual—a black coffee—and took a seat by the window, pretending to scroll through his phone while keeping Emily in his peripheral vision.
He watched.
And he took notes.
By 8 p.m. that evening, Lin Mo had compiled a rough three-page report.
Subject: Emily K.
Observed Behavior: Consistent display of above-average reflexes, precision motor control, and reaction time. No visible strain during high-speed tasks. Possible enhancement in kinetic response or muscle efficiency.
Conclusion: High probability of low-tier physical enhancement ability. Further observation recommended.
He hesitated for a moment, then sent the file to the system using the mental command prompt it had instructed him to use.
A few seconds later, the reply came.
🔊 [Submission received. Analysis: Adequate. Not exceptional. But not terrible either.]
🔊 [Points awarded: 10.]
🔊 [Welcome to the bottom tier of relevance, Lin Mo. Try not to celebrate too hard.]
Lin Mo blinked. "Ten points? That's it?"
🔊 [It's a start. Now, shut up and listen. Your shop is now unlocked. You have 10 points. Browse wisely.]
A new section appeared on the interface.
[Ability Shop – Unlocked]
A short list of available abilities:
Minor Flame (10 pts): Produce a small, controlled flame at your fingertips. Limited duration. Low destructive power.
Enhanced Reflexes Boost (25 pts): Temporary boost to reaction speed. Lasts 3 minutes.
Basic Healing (50 pts): Accelerated recovery for minor injuries. Limited uses.
Object Lift (15 pts): Lift small objects (under 5kg) with your mind. Weak range.
Sensory Sharpening (20 pts): Heightened hearing and vision for 10 minutes.
Lin Mo stared at the list. His first ten points. His first real choice.
After a moment, he selected: [Minor Flame – 10 pts]
🔊 [Purchase confirmed. Ability: Minor Flame. Initializing…]
🔊 [Welcome to the world of powers, Lin Mo. Try not to burn yourself.]
A brief pulse of heat traveled up his right arm. A faint glow flickered at his fingertips.
He held his hand up, watching as a small, controlled flame ignited—just for a second—before vanishing.
Lin Mo stared at it. Then at the system.
🔊 [Impressive. You've officially gone from worthless to… slightly less worthless.]
🔊 [Your new evaluation: E (Below Average). Keep it up, and maybe you'll reach D someday. Probably not, but hope is a powerful thing.]
Lin Mo smirked despite himself. "Thanks. I'll take it."
🎯 Chapter 2 – End