Li Chen stood in the middle of his room and did nothing for a long moment. The faint blue panels were still floating in front of him, silent and steady, as if they had always belonged there. He raised his hand slowly and waved it through the air. The panels did not flicker. They did not disappear.
He reached out and touched the desk. The rough wood felt real under his fingers. He pressed his palm against the wall, then the edge of the bed. Everything was solid. Everything was normal.
This was not a dream.
Li Chen let out a slow breath. His heart was beating faster now, but his mind was strangely calm. If this was real, then panicking would not help. If it was fake, then nothing he did would matter anyway.
He lifted his head and looked straight at the floating screen.
"If you're real," he said quietly, "then talk."
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then the blue light shifted.
"System online."
The voice was flat and emotionless. It was neither male nor female. It did not sound friendly, and it did not sound threatening either. It simply existed.
Li Chen did not interrupt.
"Host confirmed: Li Chen."
"Status: Weak."
"Cultivation level: None."
The words appeared one after another, clean and cold.
Li Chen frowned slightly. He had expected something else. Maybe congratulations. Maybe encouragement. At the very least, an explanation.
Instead, he got facts.
Bare, uncomfortable facts.
"So that's it?" Li Chen asked. "You show up, tell me I'm weak, and stop?"
There was a short pause.
"Correction," the system replied.
"This system does not exist to encourage."
Li Chen felt a faint chill.
"This system does not guarantee success."
That sentence lingered in the air longer than the others.
Li Chen stared at it. He did not miss the meaning behind those words. This was not a blessing. It was not a gift given freely. Whatever this system was, it had no interest in comforting him.
"Then why me?" Li Chen asked.
Another pause followed.
"Question outside current permission level."
Li Chen nodded slowly. He had expected that answer. Systems, secrets, permissions—he had read enough stories to understand the pattern. But something about this one felt different.
Most systems promised power.
This one promised nothing.
"Alright," Li Chen said. "Then tell me what you do offer."
The panels shifted again, and new lines of text appeared.
"Core function: Growth through consumption."
Li Chen read the sentence twice.
"Consumption?" he repeated.
"Correct."
The system continued without waiting for further questions.
"All growth requires consumption."
"Consumption requires resources."
"Resources may include but are not limited to: money, materials, energy, opportunities."
Li Chen's eyes narrowed slightly.
"So I can buy strength?" he asked.
"Incorrect."
The response came immediately.
"Consumption without permission will trigger penalties."
That stopped him.
"What kind of penalties?" Li Chen asked.
The system did not answer right away.
When it did, the words were vague.
"Penalties will scale according to violation severity."
Li Chen exhaled slowly. That was not reassuring. Vague punishments were always worse than clear ones. At least clear rules gave you something to prepare for.
"So how do I get permission?" he asked.
The panels shifted once more.
"Permission is granted through tasks."
Li Chen felt a faint tightening in his chest.
Tasks.
That word carried weight.
"What if I refuse?" he asked calmly.
"Refusal counts as failure."
"And failure?" Li Chen continued.
There was another pause.
"Failure will result in penalties."
Li Chen was silent for a moment.
"So let me understand this," he said. "I don't get power for free. I need resources. But I can't use resources unless I complete tasks. And if I fail the task, I get punished."
"Correct."
Li Chen gave a small, humorless smile.
"Fair," he said softly.
It was strange. Hearing those rules did not scare him as much as he expected. In fact, they felt familiar. Life itself had always worked like this. Effort without guarantee. Risk without promise.
At least this system was honest.
The panels dimmed slightly, then brightened again.
"First task preparing."
Li Chen straightened immediately.
The room felt quieter than before.
A new window appeared in front of him, larger than the others. The text was clear and sharp.
[Initial Task]
Time Limit: 24 hours
Li Chen read carefully.
He did not rush.
Option A:
Remain in current state. No action required.
Reward: None.
Penalty: None.
Li Chen frowned.
That option felt wrong.
His eyes moved down.
Option B:
Step into active growth.
Complete the task within the time limit.
Reward: Growth permission unlocked (Basic).
Penalty: Undisclosed.
Li Chen stared at the second option.
Undisclosed.
That single word made his skin prickle slightly.
"You're not even telling me what the task is yet," Li Chen said.
"Task details will unlock upon acceptance."
Li Chen leaned back slightly, his arms crossing loosely in front of his chest. He looked calm, but his mind was moving quickly.
Option A was safe. Too safe. No risk. No reward. It was the same life he had already lived.
Option B was dangerous. Unknown task. Unknown punishment. But it offered permission. A step forward.
"This isn't a real choice," Li Chen said quietly.
"Choice exists," the system replied.
"Outcome differs."
Li Chen glanced at the timer displayed in the corner of the screen. It had already started counting down.
23:42:16
"So even waiting is risky," he murmured.
"Indecision counts as failure."
Li Chen nodded once. That confirmed his suspicion.
The system was not testing courage.
It was testing judgment.
He walked to the window and looked out at the city. Lights stretched endlessly into the distance. Somewhere down there, people were sleeping, eating, laughing, struggling. None of them knew that his life had just taken a sharp turn.
Twenty-four hours.
That was not much time.
He turned back to the screen.
"What level of danger are we talking about?" Li Chen asked.
"Probability of harm exists," the system replied.
"Probability of growth exists."
Li Chen almost laughed.
"You really don't care, do you?"
"Correct."
The answer was instant.
Li Chen closed his eyes for a brief moment. Images flashed through his mind—the notice board, the word Failed, the quiet laughter, the phone call telling him to stop aiming so high.
Option A meant staying invisible.
Option B meant stepping into something sharp and uncertain.
He opened his eyes.
"I choose Option B," Li Chen said.
The moment the words left his mouth, the screen flashed.
"Choice confirmed."
The timer reset.
A new line appeared beneath it.
"Task details unlocking."
Li Chen felt a subtle change in the air, like pressure settling around him. His heartbeat quickened, not from fear, but from focus.
"Warning," the system added suddenly.
"First failure will be recorded."
Li Chen's gaze hardened slightly.
"Recorded for what?" he asked.
There was a pause longer than before.
"Future evaluation."
The words were simple.
Their meaning was not.
The screen dimmed, and the task details remained hidden for now, locked behind a final confirmation bar.
Li Chen stood still, his reflection faintly visible in the window glass.
For the first time, he understood something clearly.
This system was not here to save him.
It was here to watch him.
To measure him.
To decide whether he was worth continuing.
Li Chen reached out and pressed his palm against the confirmation bar.
"Let's see," he said softly.
Outside, the city lights flickered.
And somewhere deep within the system, the real test began.