"WHAA—!"
The moment Samantha Kisaragi opened her eyes, a pair of enormous, glowing blue orbs were staring down at her. She let out an ear-splitting scream.
"GAHH—!"
The owner of the glowing eyes screamed right back at her.
"W-Who—what are you?!" Samantha scrambled backward, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. What she saw floating before her was…
A tiny ghost—barely the size of her palm.
It had no mouth, just massive round eyes, and its stubby little arms flailed wildly. If she had seen something like this in a cute GIF online, she might've found it adorable. But in real life? Floating inches from her face? Not so funny.
"Yo, my contractor! You've finally woken up!" The little ghost puffed out its round chest proudly, as if it had just delivered some grand announcement.
Samantha blinked. "Excuse me, what?"
Before the ghost could answer, her bedroom door burst open.
"Samantha?! What happened?"
Her mother, Elena Kisaragi, stood at the doorway, looking absolutely frantic. Even in her late forties, she carried herself with elegance—her delicate features barely touched by time. But at this moment, all that grace was overshadowed by sheer panic.
"I—uh—" Samantha glanced at the floating ghost, only to realize her mother couldn't see it.
Okay. This is bad.
Thinking fast, she forced a sheepish smile. "Nothing, Mom! A book fell off my shelf, and I got startled."
Elena narrowed her eyes, scanning the room suspiciously. "Are you sure? You're always so frail… if you're feeling unwell, I'm calling the doctor."
"No! No need, I swear! I just need some rest."
Her mother hesitated, then sighed. "Alright. But don't push yourself, okay? I'll call you when breakfast is ready."
With a final, lingering glance, she shut the door.
Samantha slumped in relief—only to immediately snap her attention back to the little ghost floating before her.
"Alright, what the hell are you?"
The ghost clasped its tiny hands behind its back and wiggled side to side, as if embarrassed. "Well, I was going to introduce myself before you started screaming your lungs out…"
Samantha shot it a deadpan stare.
It coughed. "Ahem. I am a system!"
"A… system?"
"You know, like the ones in all those web novels you read? But I'm way cooler than those boring, robotic AIs. I'm interactive! I have personality! You can call me…" It paused dramatically, "…Lord Little Ghost!"
Samantha: …
A vein popped in her forehead. "I refuse."
The ghost flailed. "Hey! At least pretend to be impressed!"
"Nope. Not happening. Try again."
"Ugh, fine! Then you name me!"
Samantha sighed, rubbing her temples. "You're small… round… white…" She squinted. "Like a—"
The ghost practically vibrated with excitement, awaiting judgment.
"…Marshmallow."
"Marshmallow?!" it gasped, scandalized. "I am not a snack!"
"Well, you're floating there like some dumpling…"
"Dumpling?!"
"…Or maybe a mochi."
The ghost froze. Then its blue eyes sparkled. "Mochi…" it whispered, like it had just been bestowed a divine revelation. "Yes! I love it! From this moment on, I am Mochi!"
Samantha huffed. "Glad we settled that."
"Now that we've bonded, let's talk about your contract!" Mochi clapped its tiny hands together.
Samantha tensed. "…Contract?"
"Yup! I granted your greatest wish—a healthy body—and in return, you complete missions to provide me with energy! Once I gather enough, I can finally become human!"
Samantha blinked. "Wait. You're saying… I'm not sick anymore?"
"Check for yourself!"
Heart pounding, Samantha rushed to her vanity mirror. Her usual sickly complexion was gone—her skin glowed with life, her once pale lips had a natural pink hue, and even her body felt light.
"…It's real," she whispered.
It felt like a dream. All her life, she had been weak. Constant doctor visits. Countless medications. A body so fragile that even catching a cold meant being bedridden for weeks. And now—
She jumped once. Then again. She still didn't feel exhausted. This was real.
A wide grin spread across her face. "This is amazing!"
Mochi floated smugly beside her. "Told ya! You should be thanking me."
Samantha turned, eyes shining. "So… what's the catch?"
Mochi's smugness vanished.
"Ehe… about that…"
Samantha crossed her arms. "Spill."
"Well," Mochi rubbed its stubby arms together, "you have to complete monthly missions to maintain this body. If you fail…"
Samantha's stomach twisted. "If I fail, what?"
Mochi waved its arms, and an illusion appeared in the mirror.
Samantha screamed.
Staring back at her was… a MONSTER.
A seven-foot-tall, muscle-bound, nightmare of a woman. Biceps the size of watermelons. Shoulders that could crush cars. A body so overdeveloped it could rival a wrestling champion on steroids.
But the worst part? The pale, sickly skin remained.
It was her, but horrifying.
Samantha staggered backward. "NOPE. NO WAY. THAT IS NOT ME."
Mochi nodded gravely. "This is what happens if you fail too many missions. You'll retain all your muscle mass but revert to your old, weak constitution. Imagine being a literal hulk but collapsing from anemia."
Samantha clutched her head. "That's… that's a cursed existence."
"Exactly! So, my dear Samantha, just don't fail."
She exhaled shakily. "Okay. Fine. What kind of missions are we talking about?"
Mochi shrugged. "Beats me! The system assigns them randomly."
"…Are you serious."
Mochi grinned. "But don't worry! They'll all be within your capabilities."
That did not reassure her.
A knock on the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
"Samantha, breakfast is ready!"
Elena's voice rang from outside.
"Coming, Mom!" she called back.
Mochi vibrated in excitement. "FOOD TIME! Let's go!"
Samantha shot it a skeptical look. "You don't even eat."
"Wrong! Thanks to our bond, I can experience what you taste! So let's get moving—I wanna savor everything!"
Samantha sighed, rubbing her temples. "I already regret this."
Mochi zoomed toward the door. "No time for regrets, only breakfast!"
She followed with a weary groan.
"Come on, slowpoke! They might have pancakes!" Mochi zipped ahead, practically vibrating with excitement.