Daily Love Roulette System

The digital chime was sharp, clinical, and sounded exactly like the death knell of Fajar’s social life.

Fajar jolted upright, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. A translucent, neon-blue screen hovered inches from his face, pulsating with a rhythmic, infuriating light.

[ MANDATORY QUEST INITIATED ]

[ OBJECTIVE: Confess your undying love to the first person you see. ]

[ TIME REMAINING: 09:42 ]

[ PENALTY FOR FAILURE: Permanent loss of your ability to speak for 24 hours. ]

"What? No. No way. This is a dream. I’m dreaming," Fajar groaned, shoving his face into his pillow.

"Fajar! You alive in there, man? You’ve got five minutes until the lecture starts!" his roommate yelled from the hallway, banging on the door.

Fajar scrambled off his bed, nearly tripping over a stray sneaker. "Wait, is someone out there?"

"Yeah, it’s me! Who else would it be? Open up, I’m dying of thirst."

"No, no, no! Don’t open the door!" Fajar shouted, bolting toward the exit. He had to reach the cafeteria. He needed a stranger. If he confessed to his roommate, he’d have to move out of the country by noon.

Fajar burst out of his dorm room, skidding across the hallway linoleum like a penguin on ice. He sprinted toward the cafeteria, his lungs burning.

The cafeteria was crowded. Fajar scanned the room with desperate, frantic eyes. Ten minutes. Five minutes. Please, let there be someone normal.

He spotted her near the coffee station, a girl with her hair in a messy bun, reading a thick textbook while nursing an iced latte. She looked oblivious, peaceful, and entirely like a stranger.

"Okay, Fajar. Just say it. Quick and clean. You’re a man of action," he whispered to himself, his palms slick with sweat.

He approached her, his legs shaking. He looked like he’d just run a marathon while suffering from a mild panic attack.

"Hey," Fajar said, his voice cracking.

The girl looked up, tilting her head. "Oh, hi? Did you need the chair? It’s taken."

"No. Not the chair. I… I need to tell you something. Right now. Urgently."

She raised an eyebrow, closing her book halfway. "Okay? You look like you’re about to pass out, buddy. Do you need a glass of water?"

"I don't need water! I need you to listen! I… I think we have a connection. A cosmic, destiny-driven kind of thing!" Fajar blurted out.

She stared at him, her expression shifting from confusion to mild concern. "A connection? Do I know you?"

"That’s the beauty of it! We don’t even need to know each other to know that our souls are vibrating on the same frequency! I feel it in my marrow! You’re the stars, and I’m just... I’m just a guy in a hoodie trying to catch the light!"

Silence descended over the table. A group of students at the next table stopped eating, forks halfway to their mouths.

"Are you... are you high?" she asked, her voice dropping into a whisper.

"I wish! I mean, no! I’m completely sober! It’s just... you look like a sunset, and my heart is doing, like, a cha-cha slide!" Fajar’s face felt like it was burning off.

"A cha-cha slide?" She laughed, a short, sharp sound of genuine disbelief. "Look, I’m flattered, I think? But I’m currently dating my organic chemistry textbook, and it’s a very jealous partner."

"I can be a textbook! I can be a dictionary! I can be whatever you need me to be, just please, let this be the truth!" Fajar pleaded, his hands gripped tightly onto the back of the chair.

"Okay, you’re officially the weirdest person I’ve met on campus today," she said, gathering her things. "And that’s a high bar, considering I saw a guy try to eat a stapler earlier."

"Wait, don’t go! I haven't even told you your eyes look like... like high-quality marble!"

She paused, looking at him with a mix of pity and amusement. "You have 'troubled soul' written all over you. Maybe go get some sleep? Or a therapist? Probably a therapist."

She walked away, leaving Fajar standing alone in the center of the cafeteria.

[ MISSION COMPLETE ]

[ REWARD: Social status stabilized. ]

[ WARNING: Heart rate at 145 BPM. Stabilize your heart rate, or your next mission will be significantly more complex. ]

Fajar slumped into the chair she had vacated, burying his head in his hands. "I am going to die alone. I am literally going to die of embarrassment before I turn twenty-two."

He took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to stop the frantic thumping in his chest. It’s over. Just one mission down. How many more of these are there?

He checked his watch, hoping for a reprieve, a sign that the system would let him sleep for a week. Instead, the neon screen flickered back to life, glowing with a menacing intensity.

[ NEXT MISSION SCHEDULED: 07:00 AM, TOMORROW. ]

[ TARGET IDENTIFIED: Professor Halloway. ]

Fajar’s blood went cold. He slowly looked up from the table, staring across the cafeteria toward the head of the department, who was currently standing by the entrance, glaring at a student for wearing a hat.

"Professor Halloway?" Fajar whispered to the empty air. "The man who once failed me for sneezing during an exam? The man who has a vendetta against anything resembling joy?"

His phone pinged. A notification from the university portal.

Halloway’s Office Hours: Tomorrow, 7:00 AM.

"Oh, sweet mercy," Fajar choked out. "The system isn't just cruel. It’s trying to get me expelled."