Neville stared at the words, dumbfounded.
The system should've just given a quest like: [Quest: Infiltrate the Imperial Palace. Target: Galactic Emperor]
Shelly misunderstood his expression and curiously asked, [Host, are you experiencing Jobophobia?]
"What?" Neville was baffled.
[Host, it is a common term for the fear of work.] Shelly was confused.
"I know that," Neville almost rolled his eyes at Shelly. "It's not the work, Shelly."
[Then what is the issue, Host?] Shelly curiously asked.
Neville cut her off with a sharp, humorless laugh. "Use that big database of yours and think for a second. Where did the system want me to apply?"
[The position you'll be applying for is with Maxwell Corps. This is a win-win scenario, providing both income and—if we're lucky—also an accommodation—]
"Shelly, logic doesn't get you a job at a place like that. It's Maxwell Corps. They make motherships, for crying out loud. Their standards aren't just high, they're in another galaxy." Neville almost snarled at her.
[Your resume indicates that you have extensive work experience and meet the basic qualifications.] Shelly analyzed with her animated eyebrows furrowing. [The probability of success is not zero. It is recommended that you still apply.]
"And then what?" Neville's voice was tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "My entire work history is a patchwork of dead-end gigs I took just to live. Part-time, freelance... not that it matters."
His eyes reddened as he continued. "You may think that life beyond your big database is just a series of probabilities you can calculate, well—you're wrong! They'll take one look at Neville, an orphan from god knows where—and I'll be out before the door even closes. Out here—Neville is just a wannabe nobody!"
Shelly looked blankly at Neville, who unexpectedly lashed out at her.
Ding!
A flash of inspiration came to her, and she hurriedly rummaged through the system.
Shelly then happily presented her findings to Neville, [Here, host. Check this out if this is something that could help you!]
"And what's—" Neville's eyes almost bulged out of his eye sockets.
[Basic Secretarial Skills Package — 50 Good Points]
[Ta-da! Presenting, Basic Secretarial Skills bundle.] Shelly showed with sparkling eyes. [In this bundle, you can learn: Etiquette, Corporate Etiquette, Scheduling Protocols, Corporate Jargon, Fundamentals of Interstellar Business Law, The Secrets of the Imperial's Most Ubiquitous Data Management Suite, etc—everything you need to fake it 'til you make it!]
But then Neville's eyes saw something written below the bundle. "50 points? What do you mean? Isn't this cheat supposed to be a gift in a starter pack?"
[Uhm] Shelly nervously explained. [Host, there's no such thing as free in this world. Even activating me and the system already costs you a lot of energy to maintain. So, just think about how you can work on these 50 points. You can earn it in no time! You still have the sub-system, remember?]
What Shelly said wasn't wrong, but this also answered Neville's question when he didn't see Shelly yesterday.
So it seems that the life-saving system wasn't free, huh? Fair enough.
Knowing the pros and cons significantly made Neville feel better.
"Then, how am I supposed to earn these 50 points? Any ideas?" Neville asked.
[Oh! Oh! Lemme show you the sub-system quest board.] Shelly opened a certain category in the system.
[These are the list of small quests of the system gathered within a 100-meter area around you. Every time you level up, the range also widens.]
Sounds fun. Neville was intrigued.
Shelly continued, [There are only 3 definitive levels in these quests.]
[Level 1, something like giving back something to someone. For example, you found a cat and gave it to the owner.]
[Level 2, helping the one in need. For example, helping an elderly person walk across the pedestrian.]
[Level 3, saving someone's life. For example, if someone was being beaten and was about to die, you would help that person go to the hospital.]
Pretty simple.
Shelly's voice then turned grave, [But everything in the system is based on good faith. So, if someone is suspicious of you and thinks that maybe you did this on purpose, you will instead get negative points.]
Neville's face couldn't help but twitch.
I knew it, the system wouldn't be this kind.
He secretly rolled his eyes and said, "Okay, okay, I get it now. Let's roll and help someone while the sun is still up!"
[Okay!]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
[Good Points: 50]
"Fuuuuuuudge!"
Unwilling to directly curse, Neville screamed while punching his pillow.
[Congrats, host! You successfully saved 50 points in just two weeks!] Shelly cheerfully announced.
Yes, it had been two weeks of continuously taking tasks, and he finally managed to earn 50 points.
Since he was an orphan, Neville didn't think that it would be easy. But he didn't expect it to be that bad. No one saw an orphan in a good light. They all thought he was either a snatcher or a scammer.
It wasn't until the 3rd day that he finally earned some reputation and was actively sought after to help other people.
To ease his fatigue, Neville ordered Shelly to show him the System Shop and bought the Basic Secretarial Skills bundle.
[The skill 'Basic Secretarial Skills' has been successfully purchased. To initiate the training module, press on the thumbnail]
Without hesitation, Neville pressed the thumbnail and was immediately transported into an unknown space.
...
A strict-looking woman who wore a medieval outfit came out of nowhere. She had a demeanor like that of a European noble.
She began by introducing herself with proper manners befitting of her status. "A good day to you, Host. I am your instructor for your Etiquette class." She gave a slight nod and continued, "You will attend my lesson as required. Please follow me this way."
"Ha?" Neville blinked, the world was still spinning. "Wait, aren't I supposed to instantly learn it? You know, like a skill download in the games and system novels?"
The instructor's face changed and was hidden by a fan that came out of nowhere. Despite hiding her lips, he could still see the disdain in her eyes. She was acting like he was disgracing her by defying her instructions and giving 'ha, peasants.' impression.
Still, she answered politely. "One does not simply 'download' grace, Host. True knowledge is not gifted; it is forged. As this is your first lesson, the benevolent System has granted you the 'favor' of having this wisdom engraved upon your very bones."
She snapped her fan shut with a sharp thwack. "Now, if you may. Shall we not waste the daylight on idle questions? We shall begin now."
And with that, several more terrifying specialized instructors followed.
Neville's hell began.
...
When the blackhole of learning finally spat him out, he was disheveled, yet something in his posture had visibly changed.
But first, he had to let himself curl into his knees and sob quietly at his unfortunate fate.
Sniff.
——
The system prompt flashed.
[Congratulations!
Skill Acquired: Basic Secretarial Skills
Condition to Level Up: Regular Use]
Shelly appeared as the screen faded. Her avatar was bright with a party popper in her non-existent hand. Before she could even say anything, Neville wasted no time in grabbing her mid-air.
[Ack—Host! Mercy!] Shelly cried.
"Mercy?" Neville said through gritted teeth. His grip was precise, his movements swift. It took a few tense seconds before he felt an obvious shudder that made him let her go.
Neville flinched, muttering under his breath, "Standard operating procedure is to de-escalate workplace conflict..."
[Host?] Shelly asked, blinking her big, animated eyes.
He stiffly went back to normal and automatically smoothed out his new suit. He shook his head as if to clear it, glaring at her. "Don't talk to me."
Unfazed, Shelly chirped. [How was it, Host? A good purchase, yes?]
"Good?" He snorted as he spat out analytical jargon. "I have flowcharts for coffee-making burned into my retinas. I can recite the top ten industry acronyms for interstellar shipping in my sleep. It wasn't a lesson, Shelly. It was a hostile detention and massive brainwashing event to take over my brain."
[But you became even more amazing now, host!] Shelly sincerely said.
Neville scowled at her, "Fart."
Brr, He felt like he didn't go there to learn. But rather, he was sent there to be traumatized.
[Reporting to host! It's only been twelve hours since you went in and you changed so much!] Shelly happily announced.
Neville froze. "Twelve... hours?" 12 hours? More like 12 years.
[Twelve hours, three minutes, and forty-seven seconds, Host!] Shelly corrected.
Neville stared at his own hands with horror. "I'm a walking and talking spreadsheet."
…
To escape from reality, Neville decided to focus on his present appearance, which seemed to have come out of the battlefield (more or less right), and exercise proper hygiene.
He glanced at his meager wardrobe and made a mental note: If this works, I'm buying a whole new wardrobe.
It was already morning, but the thought of sleeping and dreaming of proper table etiquette made his skin crawl.
Rest could wait, but opportunity wouldn't.
He pulled up his light brain and went to StarNet. He searched for the Maxwell Corps hiring page.
Maxwell Corps Hiring Page: Secretarial Position Not Found.
Just as he thought, no matter how good the promises of the system were, it wouldn't spoon-feed a random host.
Neville shot a glance at Shelly. "Explain. Now."
[The opening is in one week, Host,] Shelly replied cheerfully. [You were granted time to prepare and rest as a reward for finishing earlier than expected.]
Liar, Neville thought as a humorless smirk touched his lips. His fingers began to fly across the interface. He bypassed the official portal and tapped into the public news feed.
Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.
Hot Breaking News: Maxwell Corporation Purges Hundreds in Massive Corruption
Bingo!
A smirk emerged from an angle that Shelly couldn't see.
A bloodbath.
Chaos.
—And with chaos comes an opportunity.
Neville's eyes scanned the article with a flicker of desperation.
With this purge, Maxwell Corps would need manpower.
They wouldn't be looking for pedigree now. They would be looking for clean ones.
Those kinds of people who didn't have a connection. Those kinds of people who would be grateful for the opportunity. Those kinds of people who wouldn't be easily controlled by outsiders.
People like him—capable, clean, loyal, and without a background.
A blank slate.
With the efficiency of a machine, he compiled his fragmented work history (thanks to the good will quests) into a resume. Enumerated his newly acquired skills that haven't even been used. Written a cover letter that was the perfect blend of ambition and deference, which felt like the most elaborate lie he'd ever told.
And finally, acing the virtual interview with an AI system—the interstellar version of a screening test.
"This is either brilliant or suicidal," Neville muttered as he crossed his heart and hoped to die before he hit the submit button, sending his application off to the Maxwell Corps Headquarters application system.
[Thank you for your interest in Maxwell Corp! Your application has been received and is under review. Expect a response within 3-5 business days.]