Chapter 2: Intern System 069 — Did I Get a New System?!

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Wen Mingyue remembered clearly — in her previous life, her starting stats weren’t exactly bad, but they were nowhere near as high as what she had now.

Her Luck had only been 3, and the system evaluation was: “You’re on your own. Good luck.”

As for her talent? Back then, Eye of Insight was only a mid-level skill —

Daily use limit: 3 times

Cooldown: 3 hours

Now? It had leveled up to S+!

Seeing her current stats and talent, Wen Mingyue was so excited she nearly burst into song: “Here Comes Good Luck!”

Her hands trembled with excitement—she was going to strike it rich!

Fueled by renewed motivation, she swore to fully seize this second chance at life. She’d grab every opportunity that came her way and make herself stronger!

After all, in her past life, her bad luck and “black-handed” draws constantly held her back. She’d open the same tier of loot boxes as others, yet always got worse items. Even the system’s rewards varied from player to player, and she often got the short end of the stick.

Now that the tables had turned, Wen Mingyue opened the chat channel. The top right corner still showed the familiar Greater China Zone 96, with 100,000 players online:

“I want to quit the game! Let me out! I have claustrophobia! This is forced participation!”
— from a crying player banging frantically on the transparent wall

“Anyone got spare clothes? I’m drenched in sweat and shirtless. I swear I’ll repay the favor someday!”
— from a sweaty shirtless big bro in the northeast

“The system gave me a watermelon knife as a hunting tool. Are they expecting me to slice up melons or monsters?”

“Why did I get a broken machete with half the blade missing?! I want to file a complaint. This is obvious discrimination!”

“Wow, that’s just bad luck, man. Mine’s perfectly fine! �� You should change your name to Mr. Unlucky!”

“Hey, that’s not cool. We’re all in this together.”

“Seriously though, aren’t you guys worried about the 8-hour deserted island drop that’s coming up?”

“Worrying doesn’t help. It’s all about mindset now. If I can’t fight, I’ll hide. My plan is to lay low and just survive until the first official round.”

“Totally agree. Besides, the system said it’s safe as long as you stay away from the central area. I got a hoe as my weapon—planning to dig around for useful stuff.”

“+1. My stats are super weak, so I’m just gonna stick to the island’s edges and see if I can find any unclaimed loot boxes.”

Wen Mingyue quickly skimmed through the chat messages. Thinking back to how she’d nearly frozen to death on the island in her last life, she glanced at the new down jacket safely stashed in her backpack and couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

That was close.

In her past life, the deserted island she was thrown onto was as cold as the harshest winter back in Shudu.

This down jacket was something her mom had snatched up during an end-of-season clearance sale. It had just arrived the same day the game began. Wen Mingyue had tried it on and found it fit perfectly. But since she was in the middle of dinner, she had tossed it onto her bed instead of putting it back in the closet.

If she hadn’t, with barely ten seconds to react, she might not have been able to take it with her at all.

She pulled the jacket out of her inventory space and quickly threw it on. Underneath, she was wearing a moderately thick thermal top — with this combo, she figured she’d be warm enough.

She devoured the big meat bun she had snatched up in the chaos — still steaming hot and delicious. So good she could eat five more! Wen Mingyue thought contentedly.

As for the messages in the chat group, she just skimmed them. Given her current lack of strength, she didn’t want to speak up and draw unnecessary attention — it could bring trouble.

The dangers of this survival game went far beyond what most people imagined.

The first round was sea survival, and resources in the ocean weren’t exactly easy to come by — especially for someone like her, who had terrible luck in her previous life.

But most players were like Wen Mingyue — they didn’t let their guard down. No one knew the true purpose behind the game. All they wanted was to survive — after all, they had family to protect.

Now that she had a second chance and a Luck stat of 7, Wen Mingyue actually felt pretty confident.

In her last life, her starting weapon was just a damaged utility knife. Hah.

This time? She was holding a sharp, hefty machete — and the best part? Unlimited use. She could swing it freely. Hehe.

As the saying goes: There’s no pain without comparison. And comparison makes the pain real.

Just as Wen Mingyue was staring at the 5-minute countdown on the screen, lost in thought, a cautious voice suddenly echoed in her mind:

{Hello, Host! I’m your system assistant, 069.}

It was a mechanical voice with a slightly boyish tone.

System 069 had noticed that its host had clicked through all the other sections of the control panel — but not the system assistant tab. Since it was still just an intern, 069 decided to proactively reach out.

Wen Mingyue snapped out of her daze and saw an image of a chubby little panda dumpling appear in her mind — its eyes were dark and shiny.

So cute… I wanna squish it!

Wait a second—
She suddenly realized something: Had her system changed?!

In her last life, her system assistant’s designation was 2233, a cold, aloof black bunny who knew absolutely nothing. Ask it anything, and you’d get: “Not programmed,” “Unclear,” or just flat-out “Unknown.” Basically, it was a glorified calculator. Don’t expect it to find treasure chests or warn you about monsters.

Worst of all, when she was in life-or-death danger, she even heard 2233 casually playing mahjong in her head—

“Pong. Kong. Hu again.”

Unbelievable.

Precisely because of how useless her last system was, Wen Mingyue hadn’t planned to bother with the current one at all.

But she hadn’t expected—she actually got a new system this time?!

And the number looked pretty early in the sequence too… Should I test it out? Wen Mingyue thought to herself.

While she was silently contemplating, System 069, feeling awkward, secretly messaged its senior and friend System 2233 through the interstellar chat app:

{069: Brother San, my host is ignoring me… What do I do? ��}

{2233, currently vacationing by the sea: Calm down. You’ll get used to it. You can’t really do anything anyway.}

{069: �� }

Just then, Wen Mingyue finally spoke: “Hello, 069.”

{069: Brother San, gotta go, she talked to me!!}

{2233: ��}

The next moment, the panda system in her space looked up at her respectfully and greeted:

“Greetings, Host!”

But deep inside, 069 was crying tears of joy: She finally acknowledged me! This time, I have to pass my internship! I’ve already flunked out 68 times—if I fail again, my system ID will start with a 7! Even though failing doesn’t mean I’ll be recycled by the Interstellar Department, I—System 069—refuse to let it happen again!!

Wen Mingyue looked at the little panda ball — one moment looking serious, the next all sweet and docile, and then solemn again. It actually seemed kind of promising, full of ambition.

Looks like it might be useful, she thought. Definitely got some “exploitable potential.”

With a smile, she asked:

“Little System, you’re super cute! Say, are most of your system folks pandas like you?”

069 immediately panicked and began frantically searching its internal database on the little computer in front of it.

Err… nothing found.

But it quickly regained composure and answered with a perfectly calm face:

“Very few, Host. In fact, you might say… you’re the only one with a panda system.”

Whatever, if it’s not listed, then I’m the only one!

But Wen Mingyue noticed a flicker of panic in 069’s eyes.

Hmm… not quite polished yet, she mused.

So she went straight to the point:

“Your system number is 069 — how does that numbering work? Is a lower number stronger?”

That completely freaked 069 out.

Oh no. I’m about to be abandoned again, aren’t I?!