Chapter 1: The Overthinker's Dilemma

The ceiling fan hummed lazily as Dev lay sprawled across his bed, staring at the blank screen of his laptop. The faint glow of the streetlights outside cast strange shadows on the walls, morphing and shifting with the breeze filtering through the half-open window. His room was a mess—books stacked haphazardly, empty coffee cups and food plates cluttered the desk, and sticky notes filled with half-baked ideas clung to the wall like silent reminders of things he would never actually do.

He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his unkempt hair. Eighteen years old. One wasted drop year. Zero achievements.

His parents had gone to sleep hours ago, probably exhausted from another day of subtly expressing their disappointment.

"Beta, you tried your best," his mother had said at dinner, forcing a smile.

That smile hurt more than their scolding.

His father hadn't even bothered with words. Silence spoke louder. Across the table, his younger brother had watched it all unfold with an expression that said, "I knew this would happen."

Dev had played his part in the cattle race—three years of grinding for JEE, the godforsaken exam that determined futures in India. Three years of sacrificing sleep, burning through practice papers, obsessing over concepts he'd never use in real life. And for what? A rank so abysmal even bottom-tier colleges wouldn't bother looking at his application. The dream of IIT? Dead.

He exhaled sharply. It wasn't like he was dumb. In fact, he was the opposite.

His mind never stopped. Overthinking, overanalyzing, planning ten steps ahead in situations that didn't even require one. A geek at heart, he consumed information like a sponge—business, coding, psychology, world markets. He could spend hours studying if it piqued his interest, but if it didn't? Days would slip by in procrastination.

[Dev's POV]

"It's 3 AM, and I can't sleep. Fuck my life. Will I ever achieve anything?"

He believed in himself, truly—but failure had a way of shaking even the most stubborn confidence.

"Should I pray to some god for a system? No, that'd make life too easy… but then again, I've tried before, haven't I?"

He had spent countless nights fantasizing about finding some hidden treasure, stumbling upon an ancient secret, or receiving a cheat code to life. It was stupid. Unrealistic. But damn, it was fun to imagine.

"Man, I had dreams. Special forces, stock market domination, a hidden empire like those urban novel protagonists… hell, I even dug around my grandfather's old stuff once, hoping to find some lost inheritance or a secret letter."

His parents' faces resurfaced in his mind.

"To be honest, I don't care about them. They have farmland back in the village. My dad's a cop—his life isn't even that hard. Indian police are corrupt anyway. No, scratch that, the whole system is fucked. But what can I do about it? Nothing. It's not my problem. I've always been selfish. I do what benefits me the most. I get mood swings worse than girls on their period. One moment, I'd die for my family and friends, and the next, I feel like saying 'screw them all.'"

"Damn, I'm oversharing again. Hey, sleep goddess, take me away!"

He clasped his hands together mockingly.

"One last time. Dear God, just once—give me a system. I swear, I'll put it to great use."

A pause. Nothing. He sighed. Of course, nothing happens. It's not like life is an urban novel.

And then—

[Ding!]

Dev's eyes snapped open.

"What the fuck?"

[System Activation Complete.]

He sat up, frowning. A shiver ran down his spine. Did he just… imagine that?

He slapped himself—hard.

"AHHH! Fuck, that hurt!"

But the text was still there. Floating. Glowing.

His lips curled into a grin.

"No way… no fucking way… is this real?!"

[Welcome, User.][Initializing Personalized Interface…]

His heart pounded. The blue transparent screen before him felt… surreal.

Lines of text scrolled before his eyes, almost as if the laptop had developed a mind of its own. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitant, unsure whether to close the window or let it continue.

Then, the real message appeared.

[System Detected: User Potential—High. Objective: Play the World's Game. Do you accept?]

Dev blinked. Once. Twice.

"What… the hell?"

His eyes darted across the screen. High potential? That was it? Not extreme or god-level?

"Tsk. Shouldn't my potential be something like 'genius beyond measure'?"

A voice in his head scoffed.

"Calm yourself, you narcissistic bastard."

The screen flickered, a progress bar appearing beneath the text.

[10%... 25%... 50%...]

His pulse raced. Was this actually happening? What was 'The World's Game'?

He had spent years fantasizing about something like this—about getting an edge, about standing above the masses.

"Is this my chance?"

His fingers twitched. He took a deep breath and clicked [Accept.]

The screen flashed.

And then, everything went dark.