Chapter 4: Can't I Just Play A Game Of League??!

Gen Nanami trudged home after school, his mind buzzing with the mystery of the glowing menu screen. He had barely processed what had happened earlier—his status appearing, the sudden stat increase, the idea that his life had somehow turned into a game.

As soon as he reached his room, he threw his bag to the side and flopped onto his bed. "Alright, let's try this again."

He sat up. "Status!" Nothing.

"Menu!" Silence.

"Open system?" No response.

He waved his hands around, trying to make a gesture that would summon it. Nothing worked.

"Ugh, screw this." He let out a deep sigh and slumped back into his chair. If he couldn't figure this system out, he might as well do what he always did to unwind—League of Legends.

Booting up his computer, he stretched his fingers. "Alright, time to waste away."

Halfway through his match, he absentmindedly muttered, "Okay, let's open status."

Ding!

A glowing status window appeared in front of him. Gen nearly fell out of his chair. "WOAH, WTF?!"

He scanned the screen. It displayed his stats, ability points, and a ranking system—

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

NAME: GEN NANAMI RANK 100/100

Strength: 10/100 Speed: 10/100 Charisma: 1/100

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"It looks like... a complete beginner character in a game," he murmured. "And what about this ranking system? 100/100? Dam I must be at the very bottom."

Suddenly, his headset blasted with angry voices.

"SUPPORT! SUPPORT, ARE YOU THERE?! FUCK! WHERE IS OUR SUPPORT?! REPORT THIS AFK PIECE OF SHIT. THIS WAS MY RANK UP GAME!"

Gen panicked. "Ah, shit! Uhh, status close!" The screen vanished instantly.

"Wait, I'm coming!" He fumbled back to the game, barely recovering from the shock.

The weekend rolled around, and Gen decided it was time to test his new system.

He made his way to the garage, where a dusty set of dumbbells sat in the corner. They belonged to his late father, but Gen had never so much as touched them before.

That changes today.

He took off his shirt, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He wasn't bulky, but he was definitely lean—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, a bit like a skinny model with hints of muscle.

Popping in his headphones, he grabbed the dumbbells and started lifting. **Curls, shoulder presses, squats—**he hit every muscle group he could think of.

Sweat dripped down his body as he pushed himself harder than ever before.

Ding!

+5 Strength

Gen's eyes widened. "It works!"

Excited, he jumped on the treadmill and started running.

Ding!

+1 Speed +1 Speed +1 Speed

He grinned. The longer I run, the more I improve.

Carried away by the thrill, he trained for the entire day. By the time he collapsed on the floor, drenched in sweat, he opened his status window.

Strength: 20/100 Speed: 30/100

He looked at himself in the mirror—visibly bigger.

Stepping on the scale, his eyes widened. A ten-pound increase.

"This... is insane."

His gaze fell on a large rice bag in the corner. Curious, he pulled back his fist and threw a punch at it.

Nothing happened.

"Ow," he muttered, shaking his hand. "Guess I still need more strength."

With a sigh, he left the garage and collapsed into bed.

Back in the garage, a faint ripping sound echoed.

The rice bag split open. A slow flood of rice spilled onto the floor.

Monday morning.

Gen walked through the school gates, rolling up his sleeves as the sun glistened on his skin. His veins popped, his shoulders looked broader, and his aura had changed completely.

Girls stared. Whispered. Blushed.

"Omg, is it just me, or did he get buffer?!"

"His arms—look at his arms!"

"He's glowing. He's literally glowing."

A satisfied smirk tugged at Gen's lips.

Near the dumpsters on the side of the school, a group of delinquents loitered, dressed in baggy clothes and beanies. One of them scoffed.

"Hey, Taehyung, it's the fat kid. Everyone's saying he had some kind of glow-up."

Another one chimes in, "yea I can see that smartass."

Taehyung, their leader, leaned against the wall, cigarette between his fingers. His sharp eyes scanned Gen up and down. A slow grin crept across his face.

"Finally," he muttered. "A worthy opponent."