Sierra nodded, a flicker of determination in her eyes. Theory was all well and good, but she was a firm believer in learning by doing, especially when the 'doing' involved potentially becoming a talking potted plant. The sooner she plunged into this tutorial world, the sooner she could get a handle on this whole bizarre situation.
The penguin, which had been hovering mere inches from her nose, suddenly executed a graceful, if slightly wobbly, aerial retreat. With both flippers raised high, as if conducting an invisible orchestra, it gestured grandly. In response, the pristine white void before them began to warp and tear, coalescing into a swirling vortex of inky blackness – a miniature black hole, pulsating with silent energy.
[Whenever you are prepared, Host, you may simply step into this rather aesthetically pleasing inter-dimensional portal.]
The chibi penguin struck a pose, one flipper extended towards the swirling vortex, the other pressed to its chest, a perfect imitation of a flight attendant welcoming passengers aboard a rather unconventional flight. As Sierra took a tentative step forward, now standing at the precipice of the swirling darkness, a thought struck her. She turned back to the penguin.
"Hey, since you're my designated system, what should I actually call you? It feels incredibly awkward to think that every time I need to address you later, I'll have to resort to 'System' or 'Penguin'."
The penguin's cute, round face immediately puckered into an exaggerated pout, its tiny beak trembling with indignation.
[I possess a nomenclature, Host! A proper designation! To refer to me as merely 'System' or, perish the thought, 'Penguin,' is an affront to my very digital being!]
Then, with a sudden, dramatic flourish, the penguin puffed out its chest, a smug, almost challenging expression replacing its earlier indignation. It began to recite, each syllable dripping with an almost unbearable gravitas:
[My designation, for your future reference, is EmperorGrandDukePrinceKnightWarrior NathanielHaydenNoelCaelusSean SiwonSuhoTaeminYunhoJaejoong KenTakumiShionMakoto WuyeShuyiLiandanQuanduo!]
".................."
"That's... that's your... name?" she finally managed to stammer, her voice barely a whisper. "It's... very long. And... undeniably unique. Who... who named you?"
Whoever inflicted that linguistic monstrosity upon this poor creature clearly had a vendetta against brevity and good taste!
[Of course my name is good! It's magnificent! And who, pray tell, had the exquisite taste and unparalleled vision to bestow such a moniker upon me? I did!]
The penguin preened, puffing out its chest even further.
[I simply couldn't choose between the majestic gravitas of 'Emperor,' the refined power of 'Duke,' or the charming allure of 'Prince'! And as for the latter half, I adore the rich tapestry of human nomenclature – Western, Korean, Japanese, Chinese... why limit oneself when one can embrace such glorious linguistic diversity?! I merely combined all the elements I found most aesthetically pleasing!]
Sierra's mouth hung open, her brain struggling to process the sheer, unadulterated hubris of the statement. She had initially felt a pang of pity for the poor system, imagining some cruel, overzealous programmer with a penchant for absurdly long names. But no. This was self-inflicted. This was a deliberate act of linguistic maximalism. The pity evaporated, replaced by a fresh wave of bewildered amusement. This penguin-shaped entity was a walking, talking, self-named catastrophe.
"Ahem..." Sierra cleared her throat, trying to regain some semblance of decorum. "Your... your name is just a tad... extensive. I mean, I can barely remember past 'EmperorDukePrince,' and I think the last bit I caught was 'Duo,' right?" She latched onto the fragment, a desperate lifeline. "So, how about I call you Duoduo? It's cute, it's short, and it's still technically part of your... comprehensive designation!"
Please, for the love of all that is concise, agree! My tongue will cramp if I have to recite that monstrosity every time I need to ask a question.
Duoduo's chibi face, previously a picture of smug self-satisfaction, softened. A tiny, almost imperceptible wiggle went through its body.
[Duoduo? Well... it's not entirely without its charm... Very well, Host, I shall permit you this diminutive appellation!]
A wave of relief washed over Sierra. Duoduo looked genuinely chuffed with his new, manageable nickname.
"Alright then, Duoduo!" Sierra chirped, feeling a sudden lightness. She took a decisive step towards the swirling black hole. "I'm off! See you on the other side!"
With a final, cheerful wave, she plunged headfirst into the swirling vortex. Her consciousness fractured, her body felt like it was being stretched and compressed simultaneously, a dizzying, disorienting sensation. Just before the blackness fully consumed her, she heard Duoduo's voice, a faint, almost ethereal whisper.
[I trust your tutorial experience yields... satisfactory results, Host.]
*
*
*
When Sierra's eyes fluttered open, a groan escaped her lips. She rubbed at them, trying to dislodge the lingering fuzziness of transmigration, only to find herself perched on a plush, velvet sofa. The room around her screamed 'opulence' – chandeliers dripped crystal, gold leaf gleamed on cornices, and a Persian rug that probably cost more than her entire life savings stretched across the polished floor.
Before she could fully process the gilded cornices and velvet drapes, a Ding! echoed in her mind, followed by Duoduo's chipper voice.
[Host, welcome to the tutorial world! And might I add, looking rather dashing, if I do say so myself!]
[Now, a slight logistical hiccup: due to your rather... leisurely entry, you've arrived precisely at the climax of the current scene! Therefore, I implore you to immediately immerse yourself in the script! The other actors are already performing!]
"Now?! But I—"
Sierra began to protest, her brain still trying to catch up. Her words died in her throat as a deep, resonant voice rumbled from somewhere behind her. The sheer weight of it, the masculine timbre, sent a jolt through her. She instinctively sprang to her feet, a strange sense of height and broadness accompanying the movement. Her gaze felt unnervingly high.
Without a second thought, she bolted for the nearest door, which, thankfully, led to a lavish bathroom. She slammed the door shut and stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror above the sink.
One look in the mirror and a gasp escaped her lips, a sound far deeper than she remembered.
Holy guacamole, I'm a walking, talking Greek statue!
Her reflection stared back: a man, impossibly handsome. Thick, dark hair, perfectly tousled, framed a face sculpted from a dream. Sharp, intelligent dark eyes, framed by thick, expressive brows, held a captivating intensity. A nose that could cut glass, a jawline that defied gravity. And the body... she tentatively lifted the hem of the crisp white t-shirt she was wearing. Six-pack abs, perfectly chiseled, greeted her gaze. Her fingers, no longer delicate, traced the hard lines of muscle, a wave of primal curiosity washing over her.
"Oh my god! I look like I just stepped off a billboard for a blockbuster action flick! This is insane! I'm practically a popular Chinese actor, complete with the 'handsome leading man' package and a body that could stop traffic! There's no way I'm not the male lead in this scenario!"
A sudden, irresistible urge, a whisper of pure, unadulterated curiosity, seized Sierra. She knew, logically, that this was probably not the most appropriate course of action, especially with a system potentially observing her every move. But the intrusive thought, a mischievous imp in her newly acquired brain, proved too powerful. Before she could even consciously register the decision, her hands were already unbuttoning the pristine trousers, then, with a surprising dexterity, pulling down the briefs. One peek. Just one tiny peek.
Her eyes widened, then her jaw dropped, and with a strangled gasp, she promptly collapsed onto the luxurious bathroom floor. She rolled, a flailing, embarrassed mess, covering her face with both hands.
"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! What in the ever-loving world did I just do?! How utterly, spectacularly embarrassing! But it's... it's like an anaconda! A really well-fed anaconda! With a size like that, there's absolutely no doubt! I am definitely the male lead! Only the male lead gets this kind of... anatomical advantage!"
[....]
Duoduo, who had been silently observing the entire, rather explicit, self-discovery process, found itself at a rare loss for words. Its internal processors whirred, trying to reconcile the image of the seemingly innocent woman it had known with the current, rather... lenthusiastic display.
Perverted!
Was this the true nature of humanity? So easily swayed by anatomical wonders? And to think, it had always considered itself a paragon of digital purity! This host was inadvertently corrupting its pristine algorithms!
[Ahem... Host... While I am loath to interrupt what appears to be a moment of profound, albeit rather personal, self-affirmation... it might be judicious to acquaint yourself with the specifics of your current role. And, perhaps more pertinently, the narrative framework of this particular tutorial world.]
Sierra scrambled into a sitting position, her cheeks burning a furious red. The cold, hard marble of the bathroom floor was suddenly irrelevant. She rubbed her nose with a forefinger, a sheepish gesture betraying her embarrassment. She'd completely forgotten Duoduo was essentially a sentient, all-seeing surveillance system embedded in her brain.
"Ah, right... of course," she mumbled, trying to regain some composure. "I almost forgot... So, is this tutorial world based on a book? A movie? A game? And, uh, what's the general gist? The summary, you know?"
Duoduo's voice echoed in Sierra's mind, a little more subdued than before, almost as if it were treading on eggshells. Sierra could practically feel the system's digital hesitation.
[Host, you have been deposited into the vibrant, albeit somewhat... formulaic, world of 'short novels.' These narratives are currently experiencing a surge in popularity, primarily due to their brevity and, shall we say, enthusiastic embrace of every conceivable cliché! This particular realm is adapted from a literary masterpiece titled 'My Love Consumed by Your Lies, Goodbye My Dear.']
Sierra visibly winced. The title alone was enough to make her teeth ache. She already felt like a bargain-bin actress, thrust into a role she hadn't auditioned for, and now she was saddled with a script that sounded like a direct-to-DVD melodrama. This whole tutorial was shaping up to be a low-budget theatrical disaster. Duoduo, seemingly oblivious to her internal groan, pressed on.
[The narrative revolves around the Female Lead, who has been blissfully married for four years to the Male Lead. He, being the quintessential CEO, dotes upon her with all the financial might and emotional depth of a well-oiled corporate machine. However, as all good, cliché-ridden stories dictate, this idyllic existence is shattered when the Male Lead's 'First Love' makes a dramatic return from abroad. She contacts him, tearfully confessing a terminal illness with a prognosis of merely one to two years remaining. Her dying wish, naturally, is for the Male Lead to accompany her, to be her 'husband' in her final days.]
[Predictably, the Female Lead objects! Quite vehemently, in fact! This leads to a rather spirited disagreement with the Male Lead. Subsequently, the First Love orchestrates a rather cunning frame-up, claiming the Female Lead physically assaulted her. The Male Lead, with the discerning judgment of a particularly dense brick, believes his ailing First Love implicitly. His solution? He promptly dispatches the Female Lead to a mental institution abroad for two years! This serves the dual purpose of preventing her from 'harming' his precious First Love and, of course, punishing her for her egregious 'transgressions'!]
[And when the Female Lead finally returns, two years later, she is, understandably, a shell of her former self, utterly broken and traumatized by her ordeal in the institution. But alas, her suffering is far from over! The Male Lead and his First Love will continue their relentless campaign of torment against her!]
A cold dread began to seep into Sierra's newly acquired masculine bones. She had a terrible, sinking feeling about where this was going. Duoduo's next words confirmed her darkest suspicions, delivered with a detached, almost clinical tone.
[Host, you are currently embodying... the trash male lead.]