The soft hum of electric fans echoed through the small, dimly lit room. Morning sunlight leaked through thin curtains, gently warming the faded cement floor. Jin sat on the edge of his creaky bed, staring blankly at the worn-out calendar pinned to the wall. April. The second semester of college had just begun.
He was nineteen, a first-year IT student in a local college known more for its outdated facilities than for its reputation. His family lived in a cramped bungalow in a densely packed subdivision — one of three houses inside a fenced compound shared with his grandparents, aunties, and about ten other relatives.
Jin glanced at the phone in his hand. Cracked screen, barely functioning. Yet this phone was his lifeline to the outside world — the internet, his classes, and even his dreams.
"Kuya, are you awake?" a voice called from the other room.
It was his younger sister, a middle child with a curious nature and a soft spot for their older brother. Jin called back, "Yeah, just getting up."
He washed his face in the shared bathroom, water trickling out of the tap in slow drips. The mirror was cracked, reflecting only half of his tired expression. He looked older than his age, his eyes carrying the weight of countless worries — tuition, family needs, dreams deferred.
After breakfast — a simple meal of instant noodles and rice — Jin said goodbye to his parents and headed to school. He used his grandfather's old motorcycle, still functional but loud and often drawing looks from passersby. He didn't mind. As long as it ran, it served its purpose.
His school sat in the heart of town, surrounded by street vendors, noise, and constant traffic. The building was aging, classrooms had broken chairs, and the computer lab — if it could be called that — rarely opened for student use unless supervised by an instructor.
Despite all that, Jin never complained. He was grateful for the opportunity to study, even in a school with a bad reputation and no free internet access. For him, this was still a step forward.
In his class, he sat quietly at the back with his friends — Yssa, a clever girl who loved books; Mika, loud but reliable; and Calix, a chill dude who always had earphones on. They weren't rich either, and they all shared a kind of unspoken bond — making the most out of what they had.
That afternoon, something strange happened.
While Jin was sitting under a tree in the school yard, scrolling through an old educational app on his phone, his screen flickered. Suddenly, a new interface appeared — sleek, glowing softly in the midday light.
> [System Activated]
Welcome, Jin.
Let's get you started, shall we?
His heart skipped a beat.
"What the hell?" he whispered, looking around.
> Task: Drink 1 glass of water.
Reward: $1.00
He blinked. Was this a joke?
> System Note: Yes, I'm real. No, you're not dreaming.
You're now under the guidance of a Life Progression System. I'll tease, nudge, and occasionally reward you. Enjoy!
Jin stared at the screen in disbelief. He had read novels and watched anime about systems — those game-like programs that help characters become stronger, richer, or smarter. But this… this felt real.
He walked to a nearby water dispenser, filled a cup, and drank.
> Task complete.
$1.00 has been credited to your system wallet.
You may withdraw once a minimum of $5.00 is reached.
He felt a jolt of excitement. If this was real… if he could actually earn money through tasks… maybe this was the break he had been hoping for.
As the sun dipped behind the clouds, Jin's mind spun with possibilities. He didn't know where this system had come from or why it chose him, but one thing was clear — his life was about to change.