NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 2: The Musician System
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The morning air was sharp, laced with the faint chill of autumn. Amias shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched against the biting wind as he cut through side streets, tracing the same worn path to school he'd taken a hundred times before.
As he turned the corner, his vision flickered. Just a second. Like a glitch in a video game, a quick static distortion. Amias stopped, blinking hard. The street came back into focus, perfectly normal.
He shook his head and kept walking, blaming it on lack of sleep. The late-night beat-making sessions were catching up to him. But then it happened again—this time longer. A faint shimmer hung in the air, right in front of him, rippling like heat off summer pavement. Amias took a step back, heart kicking against his ribs.
{"Hi Amias. Would you like to be a rapper?"}
The words floated in the air, luminescent and unreal. His first instinct was to laugh, but the sound died in his throat. He glanced around, but the street was empty, save for a stray cat slinking under a parked car.
Amias reached out, fingers brushing through the display. It felt like passing his hand through cold mist. The text dissolved and reformed instantly, growing larger:
{"Welcome to The Musician System. Your life's path has been analyzed, and you have been selected for the opportunity to become one of the greatest musicians in history. This is not a simulation. This is not a dream. This is your reality now."}
The holographic display expanded, flooding his vision with cascading panels of information:
{"The System will provide you with specific tasks and challenges designed to develop your abilities. Successfully completing these tasks will earn you Chance Points (CP). These points can be used in the Reward Circle - a specialized probability-based reward system that offers everything from enhanced musical abilities to rare opportunities."}
{"The more CP you invest in a single spin, the higher your probability of receiving premium rewards."}
He reached out again, his hand trembling. His fingers passed through the hologram, ripples of light scattering around his skin before reforming.
{"Your entire life has been monitored and evaluated for this opportunity. Every choice, every struggle, every moment of growth has led to this selection. From your early days in Texas to your experiences in London, you have demonstrated the resilience and adaptability required for this program."}
{"Your first task will be available shortly. Remember: The System only provides guidelines. The path you choose to walk is entirely your own. Please say 'Interface' to move on."}
He stared at the floating words, his pulse pounding in his ears. This was impossible. This was… mad. He looked around again, half-expecting to see cameras hidden in the shop windows or a group of kids laughing from behind a parked car.
"Interface," he muttered, almost hoping it wouldn't work. But the system responded instantly, windows rearranging themselves with mechanical precision.
{Base Profile: Amias Cassian Nazir Mars
Name: Amias
Age: 16
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 168 lbs
Build: Athletic-Lean
Physical Condition: Above Average
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Hair: Black, medium length, natural waves
Skin: Light Brown}
The profile hovered before him. He almost didn't recognize himself, reduced to cold data points. Yet every detail was painfully accurate, down to the subtle wave in his hair that he'd inherited from his mother.
More windows appeared, layer upon layer of information:
{Base Statistics:
Creativity: 62/100
Intelligence: 80/100
Physical Coordination: 71/100
Charisma: 60/100
Fashion Sense: 28/100
Business Sense: 85/100
Street Knowledge: 73/100
Social Adaptation: 58/100}
His eyes darted over the numbers, his mind reeling. How did this thing know so much?
The system wasn't done. A new panel flickered into view:
{Musical Statistics:
Vocal Range: 74/100
Lyrical Composition: 60/100
Flow Control: 15/100
Rhythm Recognition: 18/100
Music Theory: 32/100
Stage Presence: 14/100
Freestyle Ability: 22/100
Melodic Perception: 16/100
Vocal Projection: 59/100
Beat Production: 48/100
Sound Engineering: 26/100}
Amias's mouth went dry. "Am I… hallucinating?" he whispered, voice raw. He half-expected the hologram to answer, to confirm that his mind had finally cracked under pressure. But the system continued, impassive and relentless:
{"Would you like a tutorial on navigating your interface?"}
Amias blinked. Tutorial? It sounded so mundane, so ordinary.
"I… I don't…" His voice faltered, fear and curiosity warring within him.
{"Tutorial mode activated. Reduced information flow enabled. Voice commands recognized. Basic gesture controls available. Would you like to start with interface navigation or statistical overview?"}
Amias ran a trembling hand over his face, his skin cold to the touch. He could feel the brick wall behind him, rough and real.
"Navigation," he said finally, his voice thin.
{"Excellent choice. Please raise your right hand to begin gesture control calibration."}
His body moved on instinct, hand lifting hesitantly, fingers trembling in the cold air. The hologram responded, tracing his movements. It felt like learning to walk all over again.
"I must be going insane."
{"Sanity assessment: Within normal parameters. Continuing tutorial..."}
A laugh burst out of him, sharp and hollow. "Normal parameters, huh?" he muttered, eyes wide with disbelief. "I've definitely lost it."
<>
The school loomed ahead. Amias moved through the gates, shoulders hunched against the chill that seemed to seep from the very walls. He slid into the flow of students, his presence unannounced yet noticed.
He spotted Elijah and Kieran leaning against the railing by the entrance, their laughter loud and unrestrained, echoing off the cold stone. Elijah's hair was shaved close, a faint pattern etched into his fade. He was tall, wiry, with a grin that was half-charm, half-menace. Kieran, on the other hand, was all bravado—shorter but built like a bulldog, his bomber jacket pulled tight over broad shoulders.
As Amias approached, Elijah's eyes lit up. "Oi, look who decided to grace us with his presence." His voice was tinged with mock surprise. "Was startin' to think you got lost on the way from America."
Amias rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Yeah, 'cause your sense of direction's top tier, Elijah."
Kieran laughed, clapping Amias on the back. "Nah, man, Eli gets lost on the way to his own house."
Elijah threw a playful punch at Kieran's shoulder. "Piss off, yeah? Just 'cause I'm not out here with a satnav in my head like you."
Before Kieran could respond, the air shifted. Amias felt it before he saw her—like the moment just before a song drops, the charged silence that makes your pulse quicken. The girl glided down the corridor, hair braided tight and long, her lips curved in a knowing smirk. The same girl Elijah and Kieran had been bragging about all week.
"There she is," Kieran muttered, straightening. Elijah's grin widened, his eyes locked on her like a predator's.
She glanced their way, her gaze lingering just long enough to let them know she'd seen them. Elijah's chin lifted, his grin widening. Kieran leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to look disinterested and failing miserably.
"Yo, Alicia!" Elijah's voice was honey-smooth. She slowed, turning to face them.
"Eli. Kieran." Her eyes flicked over them, her expression a mix of amusement and boredom. "Still chatty, I see."
"Only when we see somethin' worth talkin' about," Elijah replied, his voice dropping to a lazy drawl. Kieran snorted, covering his mouth to hide his grin.
Alicia rolled her eyes but didn't walk away. Her lips curved slightly as she turned, her hips swaying deliberately as she continued down the hall. Elijah watched her go, his gaze shameless.
"We hit that," Kieran said, giving Elijah a fist bump. "Certified legends."
"Yeah, alright, calm down," Amias said, shaking his head. But they were already lost in their bravado, recounting every exaggerated detail from the weekend. Their voices faded as they moved off, still laughing, leaving Amias standing alone.
He exhaled slowly, his eyes drifting through the sea of faces. And then he saw her.
A few lockers down, she stood with her back to him, head tilted as she laughed at something her friend said. Her hair fell in loose coils, jet black and gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Her skin was the deep, rich brown of polished mahogany, luminous and flawless. She turned slightly, and Amias's breath caught.
Her name was Temi. She was in his history class, always sitting near the front, hand raised with answers that were as sharp as they were insightful.
Amias swallowed, his feet moving before his brain could catch up. He approached, heart thudding, palms suddenly clammy. She looked up as he neared, her eyes locking on his. They were dark, piercing, framed by thick lashes that brushed her cheeks when she blinked.
"Uh… hey, Temi," he stammered, his American accent slipping out, vowels lingering just a little too long. He saw her eyebrows lift, a flicker of curiosity in her gaze.
"Hi, Amias," she said, his name rolling off her tongue like a melody. "You're in my history class, yeah?"
"Yeah, I am," he replied, cursing the way his voice seemed to wobble. He forced himself to stand straighter, to meet her eyes even as his pulse hammered in his chest. "You, uh… you're really good at it."
She laughed softly, a sound like the low hum of a cello. "Thanks. It's one of my favorites."
"Yeah, mine too," Amias lied, cringing internally. History bored him to tears, but he'd listen to any lecture if it meant hearing her voice. "Mr. Thompson's alright… when he's not talking about his cat."
Temi laughed again, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "I know, right? I swear he loves that cat more than his job."
Amias grinned, relief washing over him. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the bell cut through the hallway, shrill and demanding.
"Guess we should get to class," Temi said, her smile lingering before she turned to walk away. "See you around, Amias."
"Yeah… see you," he murmured, watching her weave through the crowd with a fluid grace. He stood there, staring at the space she'd occupied long after she was gone. Then he shook himself, exhaling sharply as he made his way to class, his mind replaying every second of their conversation.
The rest of the day passed in a haze, teachers' voices blending into a monotonous drone.
As he made his way home, the air grew colder, the sky darkening to a slate grey. He turned down a side street, shoulders hunched against the wind, his breath visible in thin clouds.
The shimmer returned.
It hung in the air, rippling like water disturbed by a stone. Amias stopped, eyes wide as the holographic text materialized once more:
{"Welcome back, Amias. Would you like to resume where you left off?"}
"…Yeah."
New panels unfolded before him, filled with data, mechanics, and explanations he hadn't processed yet. His eyes scanned the text.
Event-Triggered Rewards:
Some rewards unlock through specific achievements instead of spins, making progression feel natural.
CP System (Chance Points) Mechanics:
🔸 1 CP = +1% probability increase for better rewards.
🔸 CP can be spent on spins or used to modify/re-roll existing rewards.
🔸 Higher-tier rewards have lower base odds but can be influenced by CP.
Legendary: 1-2% base chance
Epic: 5-8% base chance
Rare: 12-20% base chance
Uncommon: 30-50% base chance
Common: 50-70% base chance
🔸 CP only increases the maximum chance. A substantial amount is needed to improve the minimum odds.
Amias couldn't help but raise a brow. So if he invested 10 units of CP his Legendary probability would become 1-12%. The measurement system seemed unfair, but without knowing how much chance points were rewarded for completed guidelines he couldn't make a prejudgment.
The system continued—
Stat Scaling Mechanics:
🔹 The higher a stat, the harder it is to increase.
🔸 Under 50 → Full stat gains apply.
🔸 Stats between 50 and 75 → Gains reduced by 50%.
🔸Above 75 → Gains reduced by 75%
{"This prevents excessive stacking while maintaining balanced progression."}
Amias frowned. That would certainly make things more difficult. "Wait I have a question," The system pulsed with light, a sign of its acknowledgement, clearing his throat he continued. "So are stats related to one another? And if so would improvements in one stat also transfer over to another?"
{"Correct. Certain stats improve with direct use and associated improvements, even without specific boosts. Example: Freestyling naturally increases Flow Control."}
He tapped his fingers on his thigh, gears turning. "Is 100 the max for a stat?"
{"100 is the standard maximum. However, it is possible to transcend limits. Certain individuals throughout history have exceeded 100 in key areas."}
His eyes narrowed. "Give me an example."
{"Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Music Theory stat would range from 100 to 115."}
He exhaled. "…Alright." His fingers curled slightly, tension filling his chest. "So what now?"
{"To kick off your journey, you have been granted five free spins. Each spin increases CP by +1 cumulatively, ensuring a slightly higher chance of strong rewards."}
Amias hesitated, this was all so absurd when he came to think about it. But despite the lack of feasibility it was impossible to deny that this was truly happening.
In a moments resolve, he then nodded. "Let's do this."
The Spin Interface unfurled before him—a sleek, circular dial divided into glowing segments, some dull and unassuming, others pulsing with deep crimson energy.
He reached out. A simple pulse.
The wheel spun violently, too fast for his eyes to track. His stomach tightened as the blurred colors blended into a single streak of light—
DING!
[TABULA RASA: THE SACRIFICIAL RITE] (Legendary)
The system's voice echoed in his head.
"Legendary on my first spin?" Amias smiled. "Damn."
{"The greatest artists start from nothing. Your talent is a blank slate—what will you carve into history?"}
All stats reset to 0.
Amias' jaw dropped. "The fuck?!"
Before he could even process it, the next line appeared.
🔺Adaptive Genius Modifier: Every experience, battle, or creation increases stats at double the normal rate.
🔺Permanent +10% XP gain to all stats.
🔺Music stat gains from future rewards are DOUBLED until amount reaches 50.
Amias sat frozen. His mind was racing. "How the hell is this even legendary?"
{"Consider the Stat Scaling Mechanics. This bypasses the natural diminishing returns. Your rate of growth will vastly outperform normal progression."}
His breathing slowed as realization dawned. "...So if I had a stat at 80, I'd be gaining at 25% efficiency. But now, it would be at 30%. And even if I start at 0, I'm doubling everything until I hit 50+,with the extra 10% on top of that?"
{"Correct."}
His head tilted slightly, eyes sharpening. "...This is broken. Dumb. But broken."
He was back at zero, and there was no chance in hell he would force himself to grind in order to get those stats back, either the rewards in the following spins would increase his stats back to a level he found satisfactory or he'd be hard pressed to try using…
Whatever this was.
He smirked mockingly. "Alright. Spin again."
DING!
[HUSTLER'S STARTER KIT] (Uncommon)
"A broke rapper is a dead rapper. Here's a little seed money—flip it right."
🔹 +$9,000 deposited into your bank account.
🔹 +5 Business Acumen, +5 Street Knowledge.
Amias blinked. "...Did I just get free bread?"
He pulled up the account interface—sure enough, the numbers in his estimated net-worth had changed.
"Yeah, okay. This might actually be crazy."
He flicked his fingers. "Next."
DING!
[24/7 DEMON MODE] (Rare) – (Playboi Carti-Inspired)
"No Days Off" – Your stamina in the studio and performances is 50% longer than average.
🔹 +5% chance per session to create a track that naturally stands out from your catalog.
🔹 +15 Branding, +15 Stage Presence +15 Fashion
🔹 Passive "Aura Recognition" – Fans feel your presence before you even speak.
Amias' brows furrowed. "...Playboi Carti? I've heard of him before…"
The system didn't answer. He sighed. "Whatever. Next."
DING!
[Nemzzz's Effortless Energy] (Rare)
"Flow so clean, it don't need no edits."
🔹 +15 Flow Control, +15 Rhythm Recognition.
🔹 Passive: "Undeniable Cadence" – Your flows are naturally addictive to listeners and Your delivery makes everything you say sound confident, even simple lines.
🔹 Flow style unlocked: Nemzzz
He had no clue what a "Nemzzz" was. But something else caught his attention. He frozed. "...Wait, I get their exact flow?"
{"No. You gain their flow methodology and adaptability, but your unique style remains your own."}
Amias nodded slowly. "That's actually fire."
Then—
DING!
[PHOENIX ASCENSION: It Runs in the Family] (Legendary)
A quote flashed across the screen—
"I was there when it started, I'll be here when it's finished."
🔹 All historical stat reductions are reversed.
This was not what he had expected would come out of this, far from it. Amias' breath caught as his stats snapped back to their original numbers.
The weight on his chest—one he hadn't even realized he was carrying—vanished in an instant. A ripple ran through his body, not physical, but something deeper, like a string in his core being had just been pulled taut.
And then, the rest of the reward unfolded.
— Lyrical Composition +50
— Freestyle Ability +40
— Music Theory +30
— Vocal Projection +40
— Melodic Perception +15
— Beat Production +5
— Sound Engineering +10
The numbers shifted, climbing, expanding.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face, trying to process it all. His mind swirled, the sheer scope of it dizzying.
He scanned the list, absorbing the final count:
Lyrical Composition: 80/100
Flow Control: 46/100
Rhythm Recognition: 49/100
Music Theory: 75/100
Stage Presence: 44/100
Freestyle Ability: 77/100
Melodic Perception: 46/100
Vocal Projection: 77/100
Beat Production: 54/100
Sound Engineering: 46/100
Amias let out a low whistle. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, slow, almost disbelieving.
"Boyyy, I might as well try this out."