Chapter 2: New 'Me'
The realization did not come all at once. It arrived slowly, layered between sensations, thoughts, and observations that did not fit neatly together. I was not just sitting in a room waiting to audition. I was also someone else, entirely.
Somehow, I had become someone named Jace Harper. He was nineteen years old, and from the fragments that filtered through my mind, he had grown up on the southern edge of Atlanta.
His father worked in a metal fabrication plant, and his mother had spent most of her life as a retail designer in one of the older mall chains. They were hard-working, decent people—not well-off, but not bitter either.
They had done what they could for him, and he had always wanted to make something of himself to return the favor.
Jace had developed an interest in acting during his early teens, though it had taken time for him to say it out loud. Acting had not been part of his world.
No one around him had connections in entertainment, and certainly not in Hollywood. His friends respected his interest, but most of them thought he would eventually let it go and choose something more secure. He did not.
By the time he turned eighteen, he had made up his mind. With very little money and a small backpack of essentials, he moved out of his parents' home and started renting a bedroom in a shared apartment with a friend from high school.
He took on shifts at a fast-food chain near midtown, working evenings and weekends.
What kept him going were the small things: open casting calls listed online, late-night monologue practice in front of the mirror, and the occasional callback that never went anywhere. He had no formal training, no manager, and no footage to show casting directors. What he had was time, energy, and an unwavering belief that if he just kept showing up, eventually someone would notice.
This Teen Wolf audition was, in fact, the first proper opportunity he had managed to secure. A friend of a friend had passed along the casting call, and it had taken Jace three days to pull together a printable headshot and enough change to ride the bus to the studio.
He had no idea what to expect but felt certain it would be a turning point.
Now, having absorbed his memories, his history, his struggles—I realized that I had become him.
It was not like reading a file or watching a video. It was more complete than that. I knew what his childhood room looked like, what his neighborhood smelled like in the summer, the feeling of walking into auditions wearing second-hand shoes with soles that thinned each day.
I had not just woken up in a different place. I had woken up in a different life, with different possibilities.
And whether I liked it or not, I was in it now.
This entire situation reminded me of something I had come across in fiction. In the past, I had read numerous system-based novels—stories where characters unexpectedly awakened to an interface or guide that helped them grow stronger, more skilled, or more capable within a specific domain.
These tales were imaginative and often far-fetched, crafted more for entertainment than for any sense of realism. Still, I enjoyed them. I just never thought I would find myself in a situation that felt so much like one of those narratives.
'What are you?' I asked silently, directing the question toward the presence that now seemed to occupy a corner of my mind. I was not certain whether I was communicating with something artificial, sentient, or entirely beyond understanding.
Almost immediately, the pale-blue interface appeared once more, hovering quietly in the periphery of my vision.
[As for my designation, I am the WORLD'S GREATEST ENTERTAINER SYSTEM. My purpose is to assist the host in becoming the greatest entertainer in the world.]
The message was concise, though the language felt slightly mechanical. I focused on the term "entertainer," which was broad by definition. It could include actors, musicians, writers, illustrators, or comedians.
It could even extend to athletes and public figures. I began to consider what this system might actually enable, and what kind of entertainer it was intended to develop.
'How do you intend to do that?' I asked, my thoughts turning inward even as I continued to observe the unfamiliar room around me. The harsh fluorescent lighting gave the place a somewhat clinical atmosphere.
Around me, others were quietly reviewing lines, practicing softly under their breath. They seemed comfortable, or at least familiar with the process. I, on the other hand, was trying to make sense of a completely new reality.
The system responded without delay.
[By awarding Entertainment Points each time the host successfully creates or contributes to a performance that engages and entertains an audience. These points reflect the emotional and creative resonance of your work. Acting, writing, music, visual arts, and other expressive forms are all included. As you accumulate points, new abilities and features will become available through your lottery system.]
The structure was surprisingly organized and clear. I understood what was being offered, though it was still difficult to process how any of this was real. The idea of starting over, of becoming someone new with a clear purpose, had once felt like a fantasy. Now that it had arrived, I found myself hesitant.
'What happened to my previous life?' I wondered. 'Did my family notice I was missing? Would my friends ever know what became of me? Was another version of me continuing along the path I had abandoned, or had I simply vanished from that world entirely?'
There was no response. Instead, the interface was updated with a new message.
[The host has a welcome package available. Would you like to claim it now?]
'...' I wonder if anyone had said no before.
'Yes, I would like to claim the welcome package.' I thought.
[Welcome package claimed. Awarding skill: Acting – Mastery Level.]
It was just a singular notification, where was the lottery wheel you mentioned?!
It was as if my understanding of movement, voice, and expression had all sharpened. I could recall techniques I had never studied. I could picture myself embodying roles I had never imagined performing.
'Acting?' I thought to myself. 'Mastery Level?' The words lingered in my mind, carrying more weight than I expected.
Acting had always been something I admired from a distance—something others did with skill and presence. Now, apparently, it was something I could do as well, with a level of ability most would never reach... well depending on how useful this system is.
It was obvious now. The system's direction was intentional. Not only had I woken up in the middle of a Teen Wolf audition—a series I had admired for years—but I had also been granted a mastery-level skill in acting.
The alignment of circumstances felt too deliberate to be random.
'System,' I asked, 'how high is the proficiency level in acting?'
[Would you like me to display your status panel?]
'Yes.'
The panel appeared smoothly, occupying a soft but distinct space in my vision. It presented a clean, minimal interface.
[ENTERTAINER SYSTEM – STATUS PAGE]
Host: Jace Harper
Age: 18
Entertainment Points (EP): 0
[SKILL INVENTORY]
(Sorted by Tier)
— Beginner:
None
— Intermediate:
None
— Advanced:
None
— Industry Professional:
None
— Perfect:
Acting ★ Supernatural Action – When used, the performer assumes the full qualities of the role. Presence and behavior adapt to match the intended character, enabling an authentic enactment beyond conscious control.
[LOTTERY SYSTEM]
Current Tier: Bronze
Next Roll Cost: 100,000 EP
Rolls at Tier: 0 / 5
Note: After 5 total rolls, cost increases x10
The structure of the skill tiers was now clearer. Skills progressed through five levels: Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced, Industry Professional, and Perfect.
"Perfect" was self-explanatory, but the star beside it and the brief label added something more. The wording suggested not just technical proficiency, but a complete, seamless immersion into character.
The system prompted me again.
[One additional welcome package remains. Would you like to open it now?]
'Yes,' I replied, without speaking.
[Awarded: One free lottery spin. Initiate spin now?]
Before accepting, I reviewed the status panel again, particularly the lottery section.
[LOTTERY SYSTEM]
Current Tier: Bronze
Next Roll Cost: 100,000 EP
Rolls at Tier: 0 / 5
I noticed the line: "Note: After 5 total rolls, cost increases x10."
'System,' I asked, 'what does the 0 of 5 indicate?'
[Each system tier allows for five base-cost spins. After completing five spins, the cost for subsequent rolls increases tenfold unless the system tier is upgraded. Higher tiers unlock better rewards. At the Bronze level, most rewards will likely be Beginner or Intermediate, with a chance at higher-level bonuses.]
I had no clear idea yet of how difficult it would be to accumulate 100,000 Entertainment Points. It might come easily, or it might demand significant effort and creativity. Either way, the structure was now in place.
I looked at the system screen for a moment. Then I said, 'System, I'm ready. Let's do the free lottery spin.'
[Initiating Bronze Lottery Spin. Please wait.]
The air didn't change. There was no big sound or flash. But in front of me, a simple wheel appeared. It had a bronze frame and was labeled clearly at the top: Bronze Lottery Wheel. The wheel was round and smooth, with categories placed around the edge. Each section looked like it was made of colored glass.
I could see a few of the options. The labels were clean and easy to read:
ActingComedyWritingVideographyEditingSinging
There were many others, but most of them were blurred out. I guessed those were higher-level skills or ones not yet available. The ones I could see were likely basic or mid-tier, fit for someone just starting.
The system did not wait for more input.
[Spinning.]
The wheel turned slowly at first, then picked up speed. Each section passed with a light flicker, soft and quiet. I watched it closely. There wasn't anything flashy about the process. But still, I felt a little nervous. This spin would shape part of my future. I didn't know how often I'd get chances like this.
As the wheel slowed down, I leaned forward. The pointer moved over Comedy, then slowed near Editing. It clicked past Singing, then hovered on Writing.
It stopped.
The wheel froze in place. The words lit up on the section it landed on: Writing.
[Reward: Advanced-Level Skill – Writing.]
I stared at the screen. For a second, I wasn't sure I read it right. But it didn't change. It stayed there, plain and clear.
'Advanced level?' I asked. 'On a bronze spin?'
[Correct. This result is uncommon. Most rewards at the Bronze level fall between Beginner and Intermediate. Advanced-level skills are rare and reflect high potential. Congratulations.]
I blinked. Then I smiled just a little. I had been given a second strong skill. First acting, now writing. They felt real enough, though I didn't feel like I was great at either yet. I could notice small changes in how I looked at words and scenes.
Maybe I was starting to get a feel for how things should go together. I figured time would tell.
This changed things. I had come in expecting a single path, for a small while. Now there were two.
Acting was still the focus. That much was clear. But writing gave me more freedom...if I so chose to write.
I didn't feel like I was super good at acting or writing yet, but I guess time would tell. I had only just started.
...
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator