NOVEL WEB Chapter 4: Chapter 4: System?
-Another week slipped by.
I waited until the house was silent—everyone asleep. There was something I needed to try. Deep down, I knew it wouldn't work. But still... I had to.
It was the perfect time for a little experimenting.
I stared at the ceiling, half-expecting it to offer me some cosmic insight. Then, like any self-respecting isekai protagonist in a reality that was starting to feel way too real, I said:
"Status."
Nothing.
I blinked. Tried again.
"Open status window.
Still nothing.
Alright. Maybe it needed a bit more flair.
"System, initiate user interface!"
I half-expected a glowing blue panel to shimmer into existence above my pudgy baby fingers.
Instead, I got a bubble of drool and the horrifying realization that my diaper was no longer... empty.
Desperate, I gave it one last shot:
"Menu. Stat screen. Guide. Inventory. Magic. God?"
The only response was the soft scuttling of a spider in the rafters above.
I just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling as the weight of an un-gamified reality settled on my chest like a wet wool blanket.
No system.
No quests.
No floating numbers or helpful pop-ups.
Just me, my underdeveloped limbs, and the creeping dread that I might actually have to learn things the hard way.
I sighed—internally. Out loud, it came out as a congested grunt.
"This is going to be a long one."
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Baby Status Update
Neck Control: 25% unlocked
Speech: 0%
Internal Screaming: 300%
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-One Year Since the Birth of Lucien
A whole year has passed.
The birds are singing. The wind rustles my now noticeably longer hair. Honestly? I'm digging the anime treatment.
I've caught glimpses of myself in puddles and basins. And, well, I'm cute. Sure, every baby is cute, but I've got soft black hair and my mom's pale green eyes. Not a bad combo.
Maybe one day I'll marry into a powerful house and coast on charm and strategic eyebrow raises.
...Okay, Peter-Lucien, breathe. You're spiraling.
Today's my first birthday. Or, as I like to call it: Lockdown Anniversary #1. And guess what? There's a full-blown pertussis outbreak going around, so I've basically been in lockdown since birth. I've seen fewer people than a monk in solitary confinement.
On the plus side, Dad built me an extra window so I could at least see the sky. MVP move. He even carved a little wooden ledge under it where birds sometimes perch. I name them. It keeps me sane. "Grumpy Finch" is my favorite. We have a complicated relationship.
Also, I finally figured out the year—and, thankfully (I think?), one of the main characters was just born. You know him: stomach issues, trust issues, impossible name. Let's just call him Jircniv.
Assuming the canon hasn't gone completely off the rails, that gives me roughly 22 years to become useful. Or die trying.
I've got two options:
Waste my life, have fun and pray to arrive a 24 years
Buckle down and become someone the Sorcerer King can actually use.
Yeah, I'm calling him that. It feels right.
Trying to oppose him? Insane.
But being useful? That's doable. If I can position myself right—acquire skills, knowledge, maybe even a reputation—then when the pieces start falling into place, that's a game plan.
Not that it matters right now. I'll make that call around age six—once I have the motor skills to match my intellect.
As for notable developments this year: Dad's smithing business is thriving. Great news for future-me. Maybe he'll slip me some coin once I can hold a cup without drooling into it.
And... as much as I hate to admit it, I've grown attached to my parents. They tell stories, sing lullabies, laugh when I babble. They're present. And that's something I never had before.
Try spending an entire year with only two people in your life and not getting attached.
sigh
"System?"
...dammit. Why do I keep trying?
-Five Days Later
It's the middle of the night.
I'm back to staring at the ceiling, wondering what I'm doing with my life. I shut my eyes and try to drift off.
Then I hear it.
A notification sound. Faint. Distant. Like a phone chime from another room.
God, I'd kill to watch one of those videos where people build forest villas with mud and sticks. Or those soothing documentaries about fat-tailed gerbils. You know, the kind of YouTube that cradled you to sleep and woke you up twelve videos later wondering what year it was.
I slowly open my eyes.
There it is.
A soft, translucent gray window floating in the air.
Beautiful.
I've been to art galleries with my ex back on Earth. Never my thing—it was always hers. But this? This beat every painting I'd ever seen.
It was in English.
Bless whatever god pulled that off.
"SYSTEM?!" I shout—loud enough to wake the dead. Or worse… my parents.
Still—hell yes. Let's see what happens.
"Alright. Let's start with the system."
[Class condition met. Would you like to acquire the Special Class: Hermit?]
Special class? Hermit?
I've spent so much time locked up the system decided to make it official. Honestly? Kinda based.
[Accept]
The window disappeared.
Suddenly, I felt hot. Dizzy.
Like Oktoberfest at sixteen: bad beer, worse decisions.
Oh god. I think I'm going to pass ou—
-POV: Erob (Lucien's Father)
"Lucien? What's wrong? Hey?"
I touched his forehead. Burning up. Damn it—he's got a fever. And he's unconscious.
"Sweetheart! Get in here—now! Lucy's burning up!"
I heard her footsteps instantly—fast and sharp.
"What happened?!"
"Fever—really high!"
"Oh gods, no. Wait—hold on!"
She disappeared and came back seconds later, clutching a small vial.
"What is that?" I asked.
"A healing potion. We don't have time for anything else." She gently tipped it to his lips. He drank instinctively.
We waited. Watching. Holding our breath.
Five minutes passed. The heat faded. His breathing evened out.
It was like the fever had never been there.
"Thank the gods," she whispered.
I pulled her close. We both cried—quietly, in the firelight.
And the night passed.