I tried everything I could think of to make the system respond.

  Nothing happened.

  No glowing blue window.

  No status screen.

  No dramatic voice announcing my destiny.

  Just silence.

  So I resorted to my most reliable ability.

  Patience.

  If the system refused to speak, then I would prepare without it — unlike certain mysterious programmers who apparently enjoyed abandoning their own product.

  Fortunately, the apartment was well stocked. Books filled the shelves, and the television provided access to current information.

  I turned it on for background context, grabbed a notebook, and began reading.

  Something I should have done the day I arrived.

  Instead, I had spent three days staring at the ceiling like a confused non-player character waiting for dialogue prompts.

  Not my finest moment.

  Still, regret has limited utility. I can’t change what I failed to do yesterday. I can only decide what to do next.

  So I focused.

  Studying is the one skill I have consistently relied on to survive.

  School.

  College.

  Entrance exams.

  Financial independence.

  None of it required exceptional talent or luck.

  Just sustained effort.

  In my previous world, I was twenty-two.

  Here, I’m nineteen.

  Apparently I had been transported not only across worlds, but backward in age as well.

  An odd sort of reset — adulthood traded for early adulthood, only with far worse environmental conditions.

  Mana Research Notes

  Mana is used to enhance three primary things:

  ? The body

  ? Abilities

  ? Weapons

  In short, it functions as a universal performance amplifier.

  But the more important question isn’t what mana does.

  It’s where it comes from.

  Historical records indicate that mana did not arrive dramatically.

  There was no meteor.

  No divine proclamation.

  No catastrophic event forcing humanity to acknowledge its presence.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  It appeared quietly.

  Before 1954, this world was apparently indistinguishable from my own.

  After that year, subtle anomalies began to accumulate — too minor individually to cause panic, but impossible to ignore collectively.

  Insomnia became widespread.

  People reported unusually vivid dreams.

  Nosebleeds and migraines increased without clear medical causes.

  Some claimed they heard static in complete silence.

  Animals grew aggressive.

  A few exhibited physical changes — altered size, unusual coloration, unpredictable behavior.

  Certain locations began to feel… wrong.

  Some individuals described oppressive pressure in the air, while others reported an inexplicable sense of comfort.

  Doctors found nothing.

  Psychologists attributed it to stress.

  Eventually, researchers coined a term for the phenomenon:

  Mana.

  Officially, it is described as a form of environmental energy that amplifies perception and physical capability.

  Which sounded suspiciously similar to what my eyes had been doing.

  Coincidence seemed unlikely.

  I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling.

  “Do I have mana?”

  Silence answered me.

  Direct questions, it seemed, were not an effective communication method in this world.

  Then my phone vibrated.

  A notification appeared.

  System installed successfully.

  “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  The sound had come from the phone on my desk.

  I grabbed it immediately.

  “System.”

  “Yes.”

  The voice was flat and mechanical — neither warm nor hostile, simply functional.

  “All right,” I said slowly. “Who are you?”

  “You may refer to me as a software program designed to assist you.”

  A software program.

  So I die, get transported to another world, and my assigned guide is technical support.

  “How did I get here?”

  “You were summoned by the one who programmed me.”

  “Why?”

  “I do not have that information.”

  “Who programmed you?”

  “I do not have that information.”

  I stared at the phone in disbelief.

  For the first time in my life, I seriously considered testing whether smartphones in this world could survive high-velocity impact.

  Violence against electronics, however, rarely improves the situation.

  “Can you connect me to your programmer?”

  “I have already stated that I do not possess that information.”

  “…Then what can you do?”

  There was a brief pause — just long enough to imply processing rather than hesitation.

  “I can assist you on your journey.”

  Of course.

  A journey.

  No context, no objectives, no explanation — only the assurance that one existed.

  “Very well,” I said. “Assistant manager, can you show me my status?”

  “Yes. However, I do not like that designation. Provide an alternative.”

  I blinked.

  The mysterious artificial intelligence from another dimension had naming preferences.

  “Fine. You sound like an AI. How about ChatGPT?”

  “No. Not that one. Is that a curse word?”

  That was not a response I had expected.

  “…All right. Alexa? Siri? Gemini?”

  “No.”

  Apparently selective.

  “How about… System?”

  “That is acceptable.”

  A system named System.

  Minimalist, if nothing else.

  “Very well, System. Please show me my status.”

  A translucent interface appeared on the phone screen.

  Strength: 5.5

  Endurance: 4

  Agility: 5.1

  Intelligence: 2

  Awareness: 4.4

  Charisma: 3.8

  Luck: 4

  Ability: Skilled Swordsman

  Talent: Cooking

  I stared at it.

  Intelligence: 2.

  Two.

  I had passed a civil service examination in my previous life.

  Not flawlessly, but well enough to secure a government position.

  Two seemed… harsh.

  “System,” I said carefully, “how do I know whether these numbers are good or bad?”

  “Synchronization completed.”

  Synchronization?

  That did not sound encouraging.

  The screen flickered.

  New Status

  Strength: 1.4

  Endurance: 2

  Agility: 0.9

  Intelligence: 9.9

  Awareness: 3

  Charisma: 3.8

  Luck: 6

  Ability: None

  Talent: Great Memory

  Available Points: 4

  I blinked.

  So the first set hadn’t been mine.

  It belonged to the original owner of this body.

  Which meant that physically, I was now operating at a level best described as fragile.

  Agility: 0.9.

  Running from danger would be… optimistic.

  On the other hand:

  Intelligence: 9.9.

  At least something had survived the transition intact.

  “System. Is there a way to increase these traits and obtain abilities?”

  “Yes. Strength, endurance, and agility increase through physical training. Intelligence increases through study. Awareness increases through meditation. Charisma and luck require artifacts. Abilities are unlocked when strength, endurance, or agility exceed specific thresholds. Additionally, one ability may be selected as a reward from my programmer.”

  A reward from the mysterious, unreachable programmer.

  Reassuring.

  “So I already know where to use my points. What is the maximum value of these traits?”

  “Charisma, luck, and intelligence have a maximum value of ten. The remaining traits have no defined upper limit. Values exceeding ten generate related abilities.”

  Unlimited physical scaling.

  Potentially useful.

  Potentially catastrophic.

  “Use all available points in luck.”

  A brief pause followed.

  “Luck is now ten.”

  I leaned back slightly.

  If I couldn’t overpower destiny, then negotiating with probability seemed like a reasonable alternative.

  In a world governed by mana, monsters, and unknown variables, survival often depends less on raw strength and more on timing.

  And statistically speaking…

  I was going to need every advantage I could get.