The room dimmed as his surroundings dissolved into a swirling haze of light and shadows. Ethan flinched, gripping the edge of his makeshift couch as the floor beneath him shifted.
In seconds, his shabby apartment morphed into what looked like a generic police station set straight out of a low-budget crime drama.
[Simulation loaded: Ordinary Background Officer, Scene 3. Objective: Perform assigned lines convincingly to earn a passing grade. Feedback will be provided in real time.]
Ethan blinked, glancing down at himself. He was suddenly dressed in a crisp police uniform, complete with a shiny badge and a slightly-too-tight utility belt.
"This is… insane," he muttered, running a hand over the stiff fabric of his shirt.
[Focus is recommended. Scene begins in 5… 4… 3…]
Before he could fully process what was happening, a tall, balding man stormed into the room. His voice boomed, filled with authority and annoyance. "Officer Green, where's the report on the warehouse raid? It was due an hour ago!"
Ethan froze. "Uh…"
[Line reminder: 'Apologies, sir. I've been reviewing the suspect's statements for inconsistencies.']
"Right, right," Ethan stammered, struggling to find his footing. "Apologies, sir. I've been, uh… reviewing the suspect's statements for… inconsistencies."
[Delivery: 42%. Tone lacks conviction. Eye contact insufficient. Body language stiff.]
The system's voice echoed in his mind, and Ethan winced. "Wow, thanks for the confidence boost."
The man—no, the simulation—sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. "Get it together, Green. This precinct doesn't run on excuses!"
Ethan straightened his posture, trying to channel the exhaustion and irritation of an overworked cop. "I'll have it on your desk in fifteen minutes, sir."
[Delivery: 58%. Tone improved but still lacking emotional depth.]
The scene continued, with Ethan stumbling through his lines while the system bombarded him with critiques. By the time it ended, he felt like he'd run a marathon—and lost.
[Simulation complete. Final grade: 51%. Performance barely adequate. Host must improve delivery, projection, and authenticity for a convincing portrayal.]
Ethan flopped onto the station's fake desk, groaning. "This is impossible. How am I supposed to do this on a real set if I can't even fake it here?"
[Practice and system enhancements will aid improvement. Suggestion: Invest XP in foundational acting skills to address current weaknesses.]
Ethan sat up, glaring at the translucent notification still hovering in front of him. "Oh, sure. Let me just spend my hard-earned XP so you can keep pointing out how much I suck."
[Host's frustration is noted. Reminder: Success is contingent on effort and adaptation.]
He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. The looming 72-hour deadline flashed in his mind like a neon sign. "Alright, fine. Let's try again."
[Initiating simulation reset…]
As the scene reloaded, Ethan squared his shoulders. If he was going to survive this system—and his first gig—he had to figure out how to make it work.
Ethan stood straighter this time, mentally reciting the line before the balding man even opened his mouth.
"Officer Green, where's the report on the warehouse raid? It was due an hour ago!"
"Apologies, sir," Ethan said, injecting what he hoped was the right mix of professionalism and urgency. "I've been reviewing the suspect's statements for inconsistencies."
[Delivery: 65%. Tone steady. Eye contact improved. Slight hesitations remain.]
Ethan clenched his fists, frustrated but trying not to show it. The simulation man's stern glare didn't waver. "I don't want excuses, Green. I want results. The DA is breathing down my neck, and you're out here dragging your feet!"
Ethan took a small breath and forced himself to step into the role. He let the words roll out with more weight this time. "Understood, sir. I'll have the report on your desk in fifteen minutes. No excuses."
[Delivery: 73%. Improvement noted. Emotional connection increasing.]
The man's expression softened slightly—well, as much as a simulation could. "Good. Don't let this precinct down, Green."
The scene faded into nothingness, leaving Ethan standing alone in the swirling void.
[Simulation complete. Final grade: 73%. Performance satisfactory. Host demonstrates potential for further growth.]
Ethan slumped, rubbing the back of his neck. "Satisfactory? That's… an upgrade, I guess."
[Host has achieved a passing grade. Continued practice and system enhancements are recommended to exceed professional standards.]
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. 'Do better, Ethan,'" he muttered, stepping out of the simulation and back into his dingy apartment. The smell of damp wood greeted him, a stark reminder of the real world.
He collapsed back onto the couch, his mind racing. If just one line in a simulation was this hard, how the hell was he supposed to handle an entire shoot? The 72-hour deadline loomed over him, heavy and suffocating.
"Alright, system," Ethan said, sitting up with a groan. "What's the cheapest acting skill I can buy? I need all the help I can get before this gig."
[Searching store…]
The translucent panel appeared again, and Ethan scanned the options.
[Physical Adaptability: Improve control over body language and physical acting. (200 XP)]
[Confidence Surge: Temporary boost in confidence for high-pressure situations. (100 XP per use)]
[Emotional Resonance: Enhance the ability to express authentic emotions. (300 XP)]
Ethan chewed on his lip. Confidence Surge was the cheapest, but it sounded like a temporary band-aid. Physical Adaptability, though… if he could stop looking like a stiff board on camera, that might actually help.
"Alright, system," he said. "Let's go with Physical Adaptability."
[Confirm purchase for 200 XP?]
"Yes. Confirm."
The panel flickered, and a warm sensation spread through Ethan's limbs. His muscles tingled, like he'd just finished a light workout.
[Skill acquired: Physical Adaptability. Host's control over body language and physical performance has been enhanced.]
Ethan stood and experimentally rolled his shoulders. They felt looser, more natural. He walked across the room, trying to channel the swagger of a confident officer.
"Okay," he muttered, smirking faintly at his reflection in the cracked mirror. "Maybe I don't suck as much as I thought."
The thought was fleeting, though, as the memory of tomorrow's shoot hit him like a truck. He had no time to celebrate.
"Alright, system," Ethan said, squaring his shoulders. "Let's run the simulation one more time. I've got to nail this."
Got it! I'll stay more aligned with your style. Here's the revised continuation:
Ethan stood in the simulation room, his hands stiff at his sides. The soft lighting around him flickered like a bad TV signal, but he didn't care.
[Simulation loaded: Romance Drama, Scene 4. Objective: Perform emotional dialogue convincingly. Demonstrate vulnerability.]
His surroundings sharpened into a living room, complete with an old couch and a coffee table littered with papers. A woman stood across from him, her face a mix of hurt and frustration, her eyes narrowed in expectation.
"Ethan, you don't get it, do you?" she snapped, arms crossed. "I've been here, giving everything, and you—" She took a shaky breath. "You barely even notice."
Ethan blinked, his mouth dry. He didn't even know what to say to that. Her words hung in the air, but it wasn't like it felt real. He wasn't really in love with her.
[Delivery: 40%. Tone flat. Eyes unfocused. No emotional connection.]
Great, he thought. This was a joke.
"Look," he started, trying to find some kind of rhythm, "I've been working—"
[Delivery: 35%. Performance flat. Host struggling to connect with the material.]
Her gaze sharpened. "Working? That's your excuse? Again?" She shook her head like she was done, but her voice cracked. "I've been waiting for you to get it, Ethan. But it's like I'm invisible."
Ethan's mouth went dry, but he couldn't make it click. The words were just words. She was just a simulation. This wasn't his problem.
"Okay, fine," he said, his voice a little louder than he meant. "I get it. You're mad. But you don't have to act like I don't care."
[Delivery: 50%. No depth. Performance below acceptable standards.]
The woman's face softened, disappointment taking over. "You don't get it." She turned away, leaving Ethan standing there, the words still hanging in the air, thick and heavy.
The simulation dissolved around him, and he stood alone in the void.
[Simulation complete. Final grade: 38%. Emotional engagement insufficient. Host advised to work on authenticity.]
Ethan rubbed his temples. "That was a mess. I didn't even feel anything. What's the point?"
[Host's performance is noted. Emotional resonance skill improvement recommended for better results.]
Ethan let out a frustrated breath. He wanted to punch something—maybe the simulation itself. He slumped down against an invisible wall.
"Great. I'm a terrible actor. I can't even fake emotions right."
[Host's frustration is noted. Reminder: improvement requires consistent effort.]
"Yeah, well, I don't need reminders." He ran a hand through his hair. The 72-hour deadline was still counting down. And now, the weight of failure settled in his chest. He had no idea how to fix this.
He stood, staring at the dark space around him. Whatever happened next? He sure as hell wasn't going to get it right on his first try.
"I think, maybe you chose the wrong guy," he muttered, when he came to emotionally delivering a line he was well flat.
He'd been acting so long yet felt like he had little experience, his resume consisted of hobo, pervert, hobo, and creep.
God, I'm never going to go anywhere. He was suddenly reminded of the sinking feeling he has been he died, the feeling of something incredibly heavy pressing down on his shoulders and the dire need to lighten the burden.
Just as the thought crossed his mind a familiar painful and powerful feeling travelled through his body, sending him to lie on the ground, his body jerking like a fish out of land.
"What the fuck?!" He shrieked as the sensation receded.
[Host has triggered strike one for sucidal thoughts, perhaps a system based therapy would be best for the host]
"You shocked me again?! I'm not suicidal!"
[You track record has changed proven very different. The host is mentally weakened, and physically exhausted, your mental health is of the essence and when the system discovers your mental health has decreased lower than 50, you will be automatically sent to a safe space for therapy simulation]
Ethan balked at the incredulity of the situation. He was not suicidal…. Right? Right. And true to its word a bright illusionary template appeared before him that illustrated a bar with mental health written in it, the bar was currently at 78.
"This is very unnecessary."
[Then the host will have no problem with the feature. Are you ready to redo the simulation host, greatness awaits.]
He blinked, a little shocked. Greatness? "I'm terrible at scenes like this."
[Which is why we are bounded together. The system makes up for the hosts lacking aspects]
"And what do you gain from it? Since were 'bounded' together?"
[The system is created to cultivate the greatest superstar that exists in their world, it is my purpose, without my purpose I cease to exist]
"It's a do or die affair for you."
[Affirmative]
Ethan ran his fingers through his hair. "Seems like your creator is very harsh."
[Very practical, very cruel father he is]
"A he?"
"…."
[We are bound together host. I resent the idea of waiting for the right conditions to trigger another bond with another host, so right, do well, achieve your dream, my very existence is to get you to the top]
"But, the kind of emotion I need to show doesn't just happen in two days."
[With me it is possible]
"How?"
[Restarting simulation]
Ethan breathed out. "Ready then…."
"Ethan?" Was the first voice he heard.