"Hello, Host."
Frank's eyes snapped open, and he sat up. "Who's there?" he asked aloud, looking around the room. But it was empty—there was no one there.
The voice spoke again, calm and steady.
"[Don't bother looking around. I'm in your mind.]"
Frank hesitated, then cautiously said, "System?"
"[Ah, so you know about me. That saves time. I thought explaining things to someone like you would be a hassle.]"
Frank chuckled lightly. "So you really are a system. And what do you mean by 'someone like me'?"
"[I mean someone like you—a killer.]"
"Hey, hold on," Frank said with a smirk. "I wasn't a killer. I was a mercenary. Sure, I took assassination jobs, but that's not all I did."
"[And that makes you less of a killer?]" the voice replied, a hint of amusement in its tone.
Frank shrugged. "Fair point. I won't argue about that. But let me tell you something. What do you think a mercenary like me, with no family, no real friends, did in his downtime?"
"[What?]"
"I read web novels," Frank said, leaning back slightly. "Lots of them. And if there's one thing I learned from all those stories, it's this: transmigration always comes with a golden finger. So when I heard your voice, it wasn't hard to figure out what you were."
"[Impressive. That makes this much easier. No need for long introductions—I can get straight to the main point.]"
Alright, let's start with the basics," Frank said, leaning back in his chair. "What's your name?"
[I am System,] the voice replied in a monotone, as if that should explain everything.
Frank blinked. "Yeah, I got that part. But what's your name? You know, like Bob, Max, or—literally anything else?"
[I just told you. My name is System,] it repeated, sounding almost annoyed if that were possible.
Frank snorted. "System? That's the best you've got? That's like naming your dog 'Dog.' Or your kid 'Human.' Who programmed you, a toddler with zero imagination?"
Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain shot through his head, making him wince. "What the hell was that?"
[Consider it a warning. Keep mocking my name, and those migraines will only get worse,] the system replied, its tone tinged with irritation.
"Alright, alright, I surrender," Frank said, raising his hands in mock defeat. "No more jokes. So, what exactly do you do? What are your… features?"
[It's simple. Each day, I'll provide you with information about individuals who are going to be involved in lethal crimes. Your mission is to prevent those crimes from happening.]
Frank blinked, then let out a sharp laugh. "Wait, wait. Let me get this straight. You want me to run around playing superhero, saving random strangers? You've got to be kidding me. I just got a second chance at life, and you want me to waste it doing that? Your name was bad enough, but your features are even worse. Seriously, who designed you?"
Another sharp pain jabbed his skull, making him hiss.
[I told you to stop mocking my name,] the system snapped.
"Alright, alright! Geez," Frank muttered, rubbing his temple. "But seriously, couldn't I have gotten a better system? A lazy system, maybe? Or a gambling system? Heck, even a cooking system sounds more fun than this."
[You're in a cop's body. What did you expect? A superhero system?]
Frank snorted despite himself.
[Think about it, Host. You're a police officer with knowledge of future crimes. Promotions, recognition, success—any cop would kill for this opportunity.]
"Promotions, huh? That sounds nice, except for one small problem," Frank said, smirking. "If no crimes happen, there's nothing to solve. No cases, no promotions. See where I'm going with this?"
The system paused, as if considering his words. [Fair point. But think about how many lives you could save. And unlike your past life, this time, you'll be saving people instead of… well, you know.]
Frank raised an eyebrow. "And what's in it for me? You're not asking me to do this for free, are you?"
[Of course not. Completing missions will earn you rewards.]
Frank's eyes lit up. "Now we're talking. What kind of rewards? Superpowers? Superhuman strength? Some crazy overpowered skill?"
[Calm down, Host. This isn't a fantasy world. There won't be any magical powers, but the rewards will be valuable—money, advanced tech, futuristic tech, resources to make your life easier.]
Frank leaned back with a sigh. "Well, I can't really complain, can I? Something's better than nothing, I guess."
[Don't sound so disappointed. I promise the rewards will be worth it. You'll see soon enough,] the system said confidently.
"Yeah, yeah," Frank muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "That's enough for now. I just came back from the dead you know, I need to process… everything. These new memories aren't exactly making things easy."
He leaned back, pulling the blanket over himself like a petulant teenager. His eyes fluttered shut for exactly two seconds before—
[Hey, hey, hey! No time for naps, buddy. A murder is about to go down in this hospital today.]
Frank groaned, yanking the blanket off his face. "What part of 'I need rest' didn't you understand? Look at me! This body's been through hell. Somebody practically cracked this guy's skull open like a piñata last night, and now you want me running around playing superhero?!"
[In short? Yes.] The system's tone was frustratingly nonchalant. [But don't worry, I'm not a monster. I wouldn't send you out in that sorry state. You've got something that'll perk you up. Why don't you check out your welcome package?]
Frank blinked, his frustration momentarily giving way to curiosity. "Wait—there's a welcome package? And you're just telling me now?!" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "What are you, some kind of cheap airline?"
[Hey, you didn't ask earlier. Not my fault you're slow. Now, just think about it, and your inventory will pop up.]
"Fine, let's see this magical care package," Frank muttered, sitting up. He focused his thoughts, and—bam—a translucent window materialized in front of him.
The interface was… underwhelming. Bare-bones, even. Three options sat in the corner of the screen: Profile, Missions, and Inventory.
Frank raised an eyebrow. "Wow. This interface is as exciting as a tax form. Did you hire a high school intern to design this?"
[Hey! I kept it clean and efficient. Minimalist design is trendy.] The system sounded genuinely offended.
"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." Frank clicked on Inventory, and a grid of blocks appeared. One of them glowed, displaying a gift box icon.
"Alright, let's see what Santa left me." He tapped the box, and the screen lit up with the words 'Welcome Package Unlocked' in big, glowing letters.
"Please tell me it's not socks," Frank muttered under his breath.
[I wish it were socks.]