Chapter 1: The Patch Notes of Reality
Arthur Penhaligon was a man who lived by the clock, yet he was constantly losing time.
At twenty-eight, his life in New York City had become a recursive loop of "Average." He worked for a mid-tier logistics firm in a cubicle that smelled faintly of stale coffee and ozone. His most significant relationship was with the barista at the corner deli who knew his name was "Artie" but always spelled it "R-D" on his cup. He was the human equivalent of background noise.
On Tuesday morning, at exactly 8:14 AM, the loop broke.
Arthur was staring into his bowl of Generic-Brand Toasted O's when the air in front of him flickered. It wasn't a spark or a stroke-induced flash. It was a crisp, high-definition geometric distortion. A rectangular pane of translucent blue light coalesced between his face and his cereal.
[System Initialization Complete.]
[User: Arthur Penhaligon identified.]
[Status: Synchronizing...]
[Welcome to the First Expansion of Earth.]
Arthur froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He blinked, expecting the image to smear or disappear. It stayed perfectly tracked to his field of vision. When he turned his head to the left, the box followed with zero latency.
"I'm dehydrated," Arthur whispered. "It's the sodium. I'm having a salt-induced hallucination."
[Skill Learned: Mental Fortitude (Passive) – Level 1]
> Description: The ability to remain calm in the face of the inexplicable. Logic +2%.
> Note: 'Denial is the first step toward a Game Over. Accept the UI to proceed.'
Arthur set the spoon down. The "Mental Fortitude" notification felt like a cooling sensation washing over his brain—a literal dampening of his rising panic. He felt his heart rate, which had been spiking, settle into a steady, rhythmic thrum. The logic-center of his brain, usually reserved for Excel spreadsheets, kicked into high gear.
"Accept," he said, his voice steadier than it had any right to be.
The screen shattered into a dozen smaller icons that migrated to the periphery of his vision. In the bottom left, a red bar (HP) and a blue bar (MP) appeared. In the top right, a mini-map showed a simplified 3D top-down view of his studio apartment.
"Status," Arthur commanded, testing the tropes he'd read in a dozen webnovels.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Arthur Penhaligon
Level: 1 (0/100 XP)
Class: Unassigned
Title: None
[Remaining Stat Points: 0]
"A four in Luck?" Arthur groaned. "That explains why I always get the shopping cart with the one locked wheel."
He stood up, noticing that as he moved, his clothes felt... different. He looked down at his worn-out office khakis. A small hovering text-box appeared over them: [Worn Cotton Trousers (Common) - Durability: 42/100. Effect: +1 to Professionalism (Negligible).]
Everything had a label. His toaster was a [Level 1 Cooking Tool]. His leaking faucet was a [Environmental Hazard: Minor Water Damage].
He grabbed his satchel and headed for the door. As he stepped out onto the streets of Manhattan, the sheer volume of data nearly blinded him. Thousands of blue boxes hovered over the morning commuters.
Passerby: [Level 3 Human - Accountant]
Passerby: [Level 2 Human - Barista]
Passerby: [Level 5 Human - Fitness Instructor]
The world was no longer a chaotic mess of humanity; it was a visible hierarchy. And at Level 1, Arthur was at the bottom of the food chain.
He began walking toward the subway entrance at 23rd Street. As he navigated the sidewalk, a golden light caught his eye. Hovering over a woman about twenty feet ahead was a pulsing exclamation point.
"A quest," Arthur murmured. "In the middle of the Flatiron District."
He accelerated his pace, his eyes locked on the woman. She was frantically patting down her pockets, her face a mask of escalating panic. As Arthur drew near, a window popped up.
[Quest: The Lost Commuter]
> Objective: Find Sarah's lost monthly transit pass. It fell within 30 feet of her current location.
> Reward: 50 XP, +1 Relationship with Sarah, $5.00.
> Failure: You miss your bus; Sarah loses her job.
Arthur didn't even think. He dropped to his knees, scanning the grimy New York pavement. His Intelligence stat seemed to hum. He wasn't just looking; he was filtering. He ignored the gum wrappers and the discarded receipts. He looked for the specific blue-and-yellow plastic of a MetroCard.
There. It was wedged in the iron grate of a storm drain, just inches from falling into the dark abyss of the sewer.
He reached down, but his fingers were too thick to fit through the narrow slot. He looked around. On the ground nearby lay a discarded wooden coffee stirrer.
[Item Identified: Wooden Stirrer (Junk)]
[Potential Use: Lever/Hook]
Arthur used the stirrer to snag the edge of the card, sliding it up the side of the grate with the precision of a surgeon. His hands, usually shaky under pressure, were steady.
[Skill Learned: Fine Motor Control (Passive) – Level 1]
> Dexterity-based tasks are 5% easier.
He stood up and tapped the woman on the shoulder. "Excuse me? I think you dropped this."
The woman—Sarah—turned around, her eyes widening. "Oh my god! You found it! I was... I'm already on my final warning at work, if I was late today..." She took the card, her hands trembling. "Thank you. Truly. I don't have much, but please, take this for a coffee."
She pressed a five-dollar bill into his hand.
[Quest Complete!]
[Rewards Received: 50 XP, $5.00, Relationship (Sarah) +1]
[Current XP: 50/100]
"No problem," Arthur said, a strange sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest. "Have a better day."
As she ran toward the turnstiles, Arthur watched her health bar fluctuate. She was "Stressed," but the debuff was fading.
He boarded the R-Train, leaning against the door. He pulled up his menu again. The $5.00 reward hadn't gone into his physical wallet; it had been digitized into a [Currency Tab] in his interface. However, when he thought about "withdrawing" it, the bill materialized in his palm.
"This isn't just a game," he realized, watching the subway tunnels blur past. "This is an optimization of reality. The System is rewarding me for interacting with the world as if it has logic."
He spent the rest of the commute staring at his stats. He had 50 XP. He was halfway to Level 2. In a video game, the first few levels were always the easiest—the "tutorial phase." If the world was now a game, he needed to grind before the "mid-game" started.
He reached his office building—a glass-and-steel monolith. As he walked through the lobby, he noticed something he had never seen before. Behind the security desk, the guard wasn't just a Level 4 Human. He had a red icon next to his name: [Aggressive Stance].
Arthur looked at the elevator bank. A man in an expensive suit was standing there, but his nameplate was obscured by shadows.
[Error: Perception Too Low.]
[Level 15 ??? - Title: Unknown]
The man glanced at Arthur. For a split second, Arthur felt a weight on his chest, a crushing pressure that made his [Mental Fortitude] skill scream for attention.
[Warning: You are being scanned by a High-Level Player!]
[Counter-Measures: None available.]
The man smirked—a cold, predatory expression—and stepped into a private elevator. The pressure vanished.
Arthur leaned against the wall, gasping for air. His HP had actually dropped by 2 points just from the man's gaze.
"I'm not the only one," Arthur whispered, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "This isn't a solo game. It's an MMO. And I'm ten levels behind the people at the top."
He looked at his hands. They were still steady, thanks to the system, but his mind was racing. If there were other players, and if they were already Level 15 or higher, the "average" life he had been living wasn't just boring anymore. It was dangerous.
He walked into his office. His boss, Mr. Henderson, was already standing by Arthur's cubicle, a stack of folders in his hand.
"Penhaligon! You're three minutes late," Henderson barked.
A box appeared.
[Quest: The Morning Grind]
> Objective: Complete the 'Q3 Logistics Audit' by 12:00 PM.
> Reward: 60 XP, $0.00 (Standard Salary), +1 to 'Endurance'.
> Failure: -10 Relationship with Henderson, 'On Probation' debuff.
Arthur looked at the folders. To anyone else, it was four hours of grueling, soul-crushing data entry. To Arthur, it was the 50 XP he needed to Level Up.
He sat down, cracked his knuckles, and opened his laptop.
"Challenge accepted," he muttered.
[Active Skill Learned: Focused Work (Active) – Level 1]
> Spend 1 MP per minute to increase typing speed and accuracy by 10%.
Arthur's fingers met the keyboard. The blue light of the monitor reflected in his eyes, but it was the blue light of the System that truly guided him. The grind had begun.