Chapter 1 – Tutorial: Pain Is Experience
"Life is suffering. Get stronger or die." – The System
The cupboard was dark.
Not night-dark — worse. Night had stars. The cupboard just had shadows and rot. Cracked wood above. Cold concrete below. Dry air that smelled like mothballs and copper pipes.
Harry Potter blinked himself awake. He didn't remember falling asleep, but the soreness in his side told him he hadn't been still long. His hip ached where he'd landed on the vacuum cleaner hose again. His stomach growled, sharp and low — empty since yesterday.
He rolled over onto his back, slowly. Carefully. His ribs creaked like old floorboards.
"Boy!"
Vernon's voice, already halfway to a shout.
Harry flinched before he moved. Reflex. Years of conditioning.
"Up! The eggs aren't going to fry themselves, are they?"
No. Of course not.
He pushed himself upright, head grazing the low ceiling. The wood was rough and familiar. He knew every bump and knot, even named one of them: Wilson. It helped, a little.
He slid out of the cupboard and into the hallway without a word. The floor was cold under his feet. The kitchen was colder. The air here always tasted like cleaning fluid.
Vernon was already dressed for work, tie crooked, breath heavy with the smell of burnt coffee.
"Five minutes," Vernon grunted, not even turning to look. "And don't you burn them this time."
Harry nodded silently and moved to the stove.
—
The morning passed in a haze of scrubbing, dishes, and shouted orders. At 6:40 a.m., Petunia handed him a dry slice of toast and a glass of water and sent him to sit by the fridge. No plate. No butter. Just routine.
He didn't complain.
Later, as punishment for speaking "out of turn" — whatever that meant this time — Petunia gave him an extra task: mop the hallway and polish the baseboards. The bucket was in the garage.
Harry stepped out into the cold air, barefoot. The bucket was full — heavy with water that smelled faintly of bleach. He gripped the handle, hefted it—
And stopped.
His arms shook under the weight. His shoulders burned. He held it at arm's length, testing. Counting. Five seconds. Ten. Twenty.
Ding.
A sound. Not real. Not in the air. But in his head. Clear as glass.
And then — floating, glowing, real — a line of text appeared before his eyes:
[+1 Endurance] – You have endured discomfort without breaking.
Harry dropped the bucket with a splash. Water sloshed over his feet. He stared at the space where the message had hovered, breath caught in his throat.
Another chime.
[Skill Gained: Endure Lv.1]
You have tasted discomfort and kept going.
You now resist fatigue, pain, and cold slightly better.
He backed up. Heart racing. Not scared — not yet — just… frozen.
The message faded. Gone.
He waited. Nothing else appeared. Slowly, Harry picked up the bucket again. He tried it once more. Repetition. Movement. Stress. He experimented. And after a few minutes—
Ding.
[Skill Gained: Physical Training Lv.1]
Slight increase in Strength/Endurance XP gain when training body manually.
It was real.
The messages came back when he worked. When he pushed.
He didn't understand it. But he knew this: pain could become progress.
—
Later that evening, Vernon returned home in a foul mood.
Harry, still scrubbing, was too slow to move out of the way. Too slow to lower his gaze. Too slow to stay invisible.
"What's this?" Vernon barked. "Still not done?"
Harry opened his mouth. That was the mistake.
"I was being thorough," he said before thinking.
The silence that followed was short.
Then came the slap — heavy, full palm, across the cheek.
Harry hit the floor. Hard.
The hallway spun. His head rang.
But above it all:
Ding.
[Quest Unlocked: Survive Until Eleven]
Type: Survival
Difficulty: Medium
Reward: ???
Failure Consequence: Death
Progress: 52%
Another message blinked below it:
[Title Unlocked: The Punished]
You have suffered and endured.
Passive Effect: +5% Resistance to physical pain.
-5% Relationship gain with abusive authority figures.
Harry didn't cry. He just breathed.
—
That night, lying on his side in the cupboard, his cheek throbbing and his mind racing, Harry whispered into the dark:
"…Show me the menu."
There was no sound. No fanfare.
But then—
Ding.
A screen appeared in midair. Floating, glowing blue. Transparent edges, soft light. His breath caught.
[SYSTEM MENU UNLOCKED]
Welcome, Player. You are now under observation.
The world is a cruel game. You've just unlocked the UI.
Progression is available through active choices.
Initial Class: Survivor
Starting Perk: Grit – +5% XP from physical hardship
Status: Observed
Threat Level: Low
Stat Sheet: [View]
Skills: [View]
Titles: [View]
Traits: [View]
[Caution: This system is not accountable for emotional or physical damage incurred through use.]
Harry opened the Stat Sheet:
[STAT SHEET – PLAYER: Harry J. Potter]
Level: 1
XP: 8 / 100
Class: Survivor
Title(s): The Punished
Race: Human (?)
HP: 43 / 50
MP: 2 / 2
Stamina: 18 / 25
Status Effects: Mild Bruising, Hunger, Fatigue
STATS
Strength: 3
Endurance: 4
Agility: 2
Intelligence: 3
Willpower: 4
Charisma: 2
Luck: ???
He opened Skills next.
[SKILLS]
- Endure (Lv. 1) – Slightly reduces stamina drain from physical punishment, cold, and discomfort.
- Observe (Lv. 1) – Briefly view superficial details about an object, place, or person.
- Physical Training (Lv. 1) – Slight increase in Strength/Endurance XP gain when training body manually.
And finally, the Quest Log.
[QUEST LOG]
Survive Until Eleven
Type: Survival
Progress: 52%
Description: Life is suffering. Get stronger or die.
Rewards: ???
Failure: Death
Harry closed the final menu.
The cupboard was dark again, but his mind burned with light.
It wasn't a dream. It wasn't magic — not like in stories.
But it was something. A system. A game. A way out.
No one had ever given him anything. Not safety. Not affection. Not a future.
But this? This system didn't care who he was.
It only cared that he tried.
And for the first time in his life, trying might actually matter.
He didn't sleep.
He planned.