When I woke up from my nap, I felt like I had been hit by a truck made of pure embarrassment and dog slobber.
I sat up, hair sticking out in every direction, drool on my pillow, the whole sad aesthetic.
The floating screen was still there, waiting for me like an overenthusiastic life coach on steroids.
[New Task: Sing a song in public]
[Reward: $300]
I stared at it.
I closed my eyes.
I reopened them.
Still there.
"System," I croaked. "Are you TRYING to get me arrested?"
Singing.
In public.
As if I wasn't already one bad decision away from becoming a local meme.
$300 though.
THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS.
I let out a long, suffering sigh that probably aged me ten years.
"Fine. You want a show? I'LL GIVE YOU A SHOW."
Ten minutes later, I found myself standing in front of a small cafe with outdoor seating.
People were everywhere. Sipping lattes. Typing on laptops. Judging strangers silently.
Perfect place for a meltdown.
I pulled up the first karaoke song I could find on my phone:
"Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley.
Because if I was going to embarrass myself, I might as well Rickroll the entire street.
I took a deep breath.
And I BELTED it out.
Right there. In broad daylight.
At full volume.
No shame.
No mercy.
"NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN—"
Heads turned.
Laptops were abandoned.
A woman dropped her coffee.
A dog barked along in pure panic.
A little kid started dancing like he was being electrocuted.
A couple people whipped out their phones, recording my tragic descent into public humiliation.
I powered through, throwing in finger guns and awkward twirls like a man possessed.
I was a one-man flash mob.
A tornado of secondhand embarrassment.
Ding!
[Task Completed!]
[+$300 deposited to your account]
I finished my performance with a dramatic bow, nearly tripping over a potted plant.
The cafe people clapped.
One guy booed, but honestly, he was just jealous of my raw, untamed charisma.
I grinned, gave a double peace sign, and booked it out of there like my pants were on fire.
Back home, I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air.
"System," I wheezed. "You're a cruel, cruel master."
The screen flickered again, almost like it was laughing at me.
[New Task: Tell a stranger your most embarrassing moment]
[Reward: $400]
I lay there.
On the floor.
Seriously questioning my life choices.
"WHY. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME."
But... $400.
Four. Hundred. Dollars.
That was rent money.
That was groceries.
That was me not dying money.
"Fine," I grumbled. "But I'm doing it my way."
I threw on my least-cringe outfit (jeans, black hoodie, untied sneakers — peak fashion disaster), and marched outside.
I spotted my first target:
A dude sitting alone at a bus stop, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world.
I sat down next to him.
He side-eyed me like he already knew something terrible was about to happen.
"Hey," I said casually. "Wanna hear the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me?"
He blinked at me.
"...No?"
"Too bad," I said cheerfully.
I launched into the story of how, in 8th grade, I once farted so loudly during a school assembly that the principal had to stop talking and everyone thought there was an earthquake drill.
I even threw in sound effects for maximum shame.
The guy stared at me.
Blinking.
Processing.
Then—
he started laughing.
Not just chuckling.
Wheezing.
Slapping-his-knee.
Tears-in-his-eyes laughing.
Ding!
[Task Completed!]
[+$400 deposited to your account]
I fist-pumped the air.
The dude wiped his eyes.
"Bro... that's legendary," he said between gasps.
"Thanks," I said proudly, like I had just won a trophy for Suffering.
I strutted away from that bus stop like a man reborn.
Back at my apartment, my bank account was sitting pretty.
I lay on my bed, arms spread out like a victorious starfish, and grinned at the ceiling.
For the first time in forever, I wasn't stressed about money.
Sure, I had humiliated myself six different ways from Sunday.
Sure, there were probably videos of me dancing and singing like a lunatic floating around the internet.
But honestly?
Totally worth it.
The screen flickered one last time before I dozed off.
[You are doing great! Happiness Level: 5%]
Wait.
Five percent??
ONLY FIVE?? AFTER ALL THAT???
I sat up, horrified.
"WHAT THE HELL SYSTEM, HOW IS THAT ONLY FIVE PERCENT??"
No response.
The screen just floated there, menacingly cheerful.
Clearly, my journey had only just begun.
When I woke up the next morning, I was feeling good.
Scratch that—I was feeling dangerously optimistic.
Money in the bank.
Food in the fridge.
Dignity... uh... somewhere, probably.
I stretched my arms overhead, feeling like a new man.
"Today's gonna be a chill day," I declared to absolutely no one.
Cue instant karma.
The screen blinked to life.
[New Task: Wear your clothes backward for a full hour outside]
[Reward: $500]
I stared at it.
I actually laughed out loud.
"Wear my clothes backward? For FIVE HUNDRED BUCKS? EASY."
I was so cocky, dude. So full of blind, stupid confidence.
Big mistake.
Five minutes later, I was outside, hoodie on backwards, jeans twisted weirdly, looking like I had lost a bet or maybe my will to live.
I shuffled down the street, pretending everything was normal.
Except—
People were staring.
Hard.
An old lady did a double take so violently she almost dislocated her neck.
A group of teenagers started whispering and laughing behind their hands.
One guy jogging past me actually slowed down, took out his AirPods, and said, "Bro... are you okay?"
"Living my best life, thanks," I said, dead inside.
At the halfway mark, I decided to stop in a corner store because, y'know, why not maximize the pain.
The cashier blinked at me as I awkwardly shuffled in, my hoodie hood flopping over my chest like some kind of cursed fashion statement.
"Lost a bet?" he asked, deadpan.
I slammed a soda down on the counter. "Something like that."
He nodded solemnly and rang it up without another word, probably mentally filing me under "local weirdos to watch."
Respect.
Ding!
[Task Completed!]
[+$500 deposited to your account]
I almost screamed in joy right there in the store, but I managed to play it cool.
Kinda.
Mostly.
Only a little bit of weird laughing leaked out.
By the time I got home and peeled my backwards clothes off like a snake shedding bad decisions, I felt like a warrior.
A stupid, sweaty warrior.
I flopped onto my couch and glared at the floating screen.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"
The screen flashed like it was absolutely guilty but not sorry.
[New Task: Tell a stranger they dropped their pocket]
[Reward: $100]
Oh.
Oh, this was pure evil.
If you don't know:
"Hey, you dropped your pocket" is the world's dumbest prank.
You say it to someone, they look down, realize they have no "pocket" to drop, and then feel like a clown.
It's hilarious.
It's also the fastest way to get punched in the face if you pick the wrong person.
I sighed, threw on some less cursed clothes, and headed back outside.
I spotted my victim almost immediately: a guy about my age, wearing headphones, minding his own business.
Perfect.
I sauntered up next to him, casual as heck.
"Hey, man!" I said brightly.
He pulled out one earbud.
"You dropped your pocket!" I pointed at the ground dramatically.
He blinked.
Looked down.
Looked back up.
His whole face went through all five stages of grief.
Then—
He laughed.
Like, full-on, belly-laughing in the middle of the sidewalk.
I laughed too, mostly out of pure relief that he wasn't going to murder me.
Ding!
[Task Completed!]
[+$100 deposited to your account]
Skipping home like a moron (no shame at this point), I threw myself onto my couch and sighed dramatically.
This system was going to kill me.
Or make me rich.
Or both.
Probably both.
The screen pinged again.
[New Task: Go on a "date" with the next person who talks to you]
[Reward: $800]
I froze.
A DATE?
WITH A RANDOM STRANGER???
I felt the panic attack preparing itself like a boxer in the ring.
But eight hundred bucks was EIGHT. HUNDRED. BUCKS.
I chewed my lip, thinking fast.
Maybe it wouldn't be that bad?
Maybe an old man would ask me for directions?
Maybe a tourist would need help finding a coffee shop?
It wasn't like I had to marry the person.
Just a little hangout. A fake date.
Right?
RIGHT?
I grabbed my hoodie, heart hammering, and stepped outside into the chaotic world of "please nobody talk to me unless you're extremely normal."
I had no idea what I was walking into.
But knowing my luck?
It was going to be pure, unfiltered disaster.