The sky over the city was ink-black, torn apart by flashes of lightning. Rain lashed down in heavy sheets, turning the streets into miniature rivers. Prince wiped the water from his visor for the hundredth time, his breath fogging up the glass. His old, battered scooter groaned under him, the engine sputtering as if it were about to give up its final ghost.
"Just one more," Prince muttered, his teeth chattering. "Just this one last delivery, and I'll have enough for mom's medicine."
Prince was twenty, but his eyes held the exhaustion of a man double his age. While others his age were out partying or studying in prestigious colleges, he was dodging potholes and angry taxi drivers for a few dollars a day. Life had never been kind to him.
He pulled up in front of a massive, luxury skyscraper—the Radiant Towers. He grabbed the thermal bag, shielding the pizza box with his own jacket, and ran toward the entrance.
"Hey! No deliveries through the front door! Use the service entrance in the back!" the security guard barked, barely looking up from his phone.
Prince sighed and ran back into the freezing rain. By the time he reached the 42nd-floor apartment, he was soaked to the bone. He knocked on the door of Suite 4205.
A young man, roughly Prince's age but dressed in a silk robe worth more than Prince's scooter, opened the door. He looked at Prince with pure disgust.
"You're four minutes late," the man snapped, checking his gold watch.
"I'm sorry, sir. The storm is—"
"I don't care about the storm. The pizza is probably lukewarm now. I'm giving you a one-star rating and reporting you to the agency. Now get lost."
The door slammed in Prince's face.
Prince stood there, paralyzed. A one-star rating meant he would lose his weekly bonus. It meant he couldn't afford the inhaler his mother desperately needed. A surge of pure, unadulterated frustration boiled in his chest.
"Is this it?" he whispered to the empty hallway. "Is this all my life is ever going to be? A punching bag for the rich?"
Suddenly, a sharp, electric hum filled his ears. His vision blurred, and a blinding flash of blue light exploded in front of his eyes.
[Ding!]
[Detection of extreme emotional resonance...]
[Compatibility Check: 99.9%]
[Initializing the 'Godly Delivery System'...]
Prince stumbled back, hitting the wall. "What... what is this? Am I hallucinating from the cold?"
A semi-transparent blue screen hovered in the air, moving as his eyes moved.
[System Binding... 10%... 45%... 85%... 100%!]
[Binding Successful!]
[Host: Prince]
[Level: 1 (0/100 XP)]
[Strength: 5]
[Agility: 6]
[Intelligence: 7]
[Luck: 1]
[Special Ability: None]
[Balance: $0.00]
[New Mission Detected!]
[Mission Name: The First Step of a God]
[Objective: Deliver a package to the mysterious lady in the basement of the 'Old Clock Library' within 15 minutes.]
[Difficulty: E-Rank]
[Reward: $5,000 USD (Tax-Free), +10 Strength, +10 Agility, and 'Beginner's Combat Package'.]
[Failure Penalty: Permanent loss of the sense of taste.]
Prince stared at the screen, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. $5,000? That was more than he earned in six months!
"Is this real?" he asked tentatively. He reached out his hand, and his fingers passed through the blue light.
[Timer starting now: 14:59... 14:58...]
The numbers turning red snapped him into action. Real or not, he had nothing left to lose. He sprinted toward the elevator, his wet sneakers squeaking on the marble floor.
He reached his scooter and kicked the starter. It didn't budge. "Come on, you piece of junk! Not now!"
[System Notification: Host's vehicle is too slow. Activating 'Temporary Speed Boost' for the first mission.]
Suddenly, a golden glow enveloped his old scooter. The rusty metal seemed to hum with power. When Prince twisted the throttle, the bike didn't just move—it roared.
He tore through the flooded streets, the bike leaning into corners with impossible grip. The rain didn't seem to bother him anymore; it was as if a bubble of energy was pushing the water away.
He reached the 'Old Clock Library'—a crumbling building at the edge of the city—with five minutes to spare. He dashed into the basement, where a woman in a long black veil was waiting in the shadows.
"You're late," she said, her voice like sandpaper.
"Four minutes... left on the clock," Prince panted, handing her a small envelope he hadn't even realized he was carrying.
The woman took the envelope, her cold fingers brushing his. "Interesting. You have the scent of destiny on you, boy."
She vanished into the darkness of the library stacks before he could reply.
[Ding!]
[Mission Accomplished!]
[Calculating Rewards...]
[Transferring $5,000 to Host's hidden bank account...]
[Attribute points added!]
[Beginner's Combat Package opened: You have gained the skill 'Eagle Eye' and 'Basic Street Fighting'.]
Suddenly, Prince felt a surge of heat rush through his veins. His muscles tightened, his back straightened, and his vision became incredibly sharp. He could see the dust motes dancing in the air and hear the rain hitting the roof far above.
Buzz!
His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a notification from his bank app.
"Your account ending in 4291 has been credited with $5,000.00. Available balance: $5,012.45."
Prince fell to his knees, staring at the screen. Tears mingled with the rainwater on his face. It was real. The system was real.
"No more one-star ratings," he whispered, a smirk finally forming on his lips. "From today, I'm the one who delivers the rules."