Daily Life of a High School Looser after getting System

After returning home, same night, the night stretched out in front of me. It was quiet. Too quiet. I decided to pull out the old telescope my grandparents had gifted me years ago. You know, the one I never used because, let's be honest, stargazing didn't seem as exciting as leveling up in some random game. But tonight, it felt like the stars were calling me—or maybe I was just bored.

I set up the telescope on my tiny balcony, brushing aside the laundry I forgot to take down. After fiddling with the knobs (and accidentally blinding myself by looking at a streetlight), I finally focused on the sky.

The view? It was breathtaking. The moon looked like a shiny coin someone had dropped into the sky's dark pocket. Stars twinkled like they were showing off, tiny diamonds scattered across a pitch-black canvas. Some clustered together like a group of friends gossiping, while others stayed apart, as if they were loners like me.

The Milky Way stretched across the sky like a silver river. I stared at it, wondering if there was someone out there, maybe on a distant planet, having their own existential crisis. Or maybe they were laughing at me.

A shooting star zipped past. It was so quick, I almost doubted I saw it. "Make a wish," people say. My wish? To not wake up at 4 A.M. tomorrow because of that ridiculous system.

And then, as I leaned back to admire the view, a thought crept into my mind.

"It really feels like I'm being controlled by some idiot author."

I mean, think about it. My life had turned into a chaotic mess ever since that "Loner System" attached itself to me. Missions? Point systems? Random rewards like potions and knives? Who writes this nonsense? And the names—"Loner Shop"? "Looser Knife"? It's like the person in charge of my destiny is sitting there with a keyboard, laughing at my misery.

I sighed and looked back into the telescope. I found Jupiter, a glowing giant in the sky. It looked so peaceful. Lucky Jupiter. No system. No quests. Just floating in space without a care in the world.

The stars twinkled again, as if mocking me. "You're stuck with him," they seemed to say. "Your author isn't going anywhere."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, sky," I muttered. "At least you don't have to deal with deductions in your pocket money."

With that, I packed up the telescope and went back inside. The stars might have been beautiful, but they weren't going to fix my life—or the idiot controlling it.

"Well, It's time to sleep otherwise I will lose my pocket money." I said aloud.