Feeling energized and completely cleared of his worries, Eric started cleaning his grandfather’s living space while chatting with Richard on the phone. According to Richard, he had already hired someone to deep clean everything, and the mattress had been replaced with a brand new one.

Eric just needed to strip off the plastic cover, but he chose to put a fresh set of sheets on anyway, throwing the old, dusty ones into the laundry hamper sitting in the hallway right outside the bathroom, right next to the washing machine.

He began sweeping the floors, pounding the dust out of the couch cushions, and wiping down the tables while listening to music through bluetooth earphones, leaving his phone on the kitchen counter.

Once he finished cleaning and clearing out the useless clutter into a cardboard box, he planned to carry it down to the basement storage. But as he lifted the box, something slipped out and dropped onto the floor. He looked down at the object.

It turned out to be a vintage guitar pick with a skull design engraved on it, the kind a rock guitarist would use. He squatted down, set the box aside, and picked up the item to inspect it.

"Hmm... it’s a guitar pick... I really wish I knew how to play," Eric thought to himself.

But right as he went to drop the pick back into the box, "sting," he felt a sharp zap on his fingers, causing him to flinch and drop the pick. When he looked down to scoop it back up, it was gone.

There was absolutely nothing in front of him. Eric searched beneath the coffee table and under the couch, but the pick had completely vanished. He stood up, scratching his head in confusion while looking around the room.

"Weird... where did it go? Whatever, I’ll just carry the rest of this stuff down to the basement first and look for it later," Eric thought.

Eric stepped into the freight elevator with his box and pressed the B1 button to head down to the basement. "Ting." The elevator doors slid open, and Eric stepped out into a corridor with two doors on either side. He flipped the light switch, illuminating the entire hallway, then tried opening the door on his right.

The space behind the door was a green room, fully equipped with vanity tables, mirrors, racks of hanging costumes, and glass cases filled with accessories, leaving Eric totally stunned. He checked the other rooms next, and they all turned out to be lounges or dressing rooms for backstage artists. It only added to his confusion.

Eric walked to the end of the corridor and pushed the final door open. He stepped out right onto the side of a massive stage. It was loaded with professional gear: a full drum kit, a DJ booth, and several guitar and bass amplifiers covered in protective tarps. There were keyboard stands and a massive structural rigging overhead, holding a complex lighting truss with countless spotlights angled toward the stage.

In front of the stage lay a massive, open floor bordered by velvet barrier chains, with a ceiling constructed like an exposed industrial warehouse frame. Off to the side was a dedicated sound booth loaded with mixing boards to control the stage audio.

"Wow, this is like a live house for concerts and parties. Incredible. Grandpa was awesome. I can’t believe the basement actually holds a venue like this. I thought it was just a private rehearsal space," Eric muttered with a massive grin.

He noticed a door to his right, walked through it, and found another hallway with several doors. Testing the handles, he discovered a series of soundproof rehearsal rooms, clearly meant for bands to warm up or practice before a gig. Eric headed back out to the main venue floor, looking up at the stage and the lighting rig one more time.

Setting his box down, he walked up the stairs onto the stage. He stood right in front of a microphone stand, even though there was no mic attached to it. A strange sensation washed over him, making his chest thrum with excitement.

He began to pose, pretending to be a rock frontman belting out lyrics to a cheering, packed crowd. He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline, even though the room was completely empty.

"Man... so this is what it feels like to be a singer, haha," Eric thought.

He turned around and noticed the drum kit covered under a tarp. Walking over, he pulled the cover off to reveal a complete professional setup: two drumsticks, four cymbals, a massive bass drum in the center, and a row of tom-toms. Pure curiosity got the better of him, so he sat down behind the kit and picked up the sticks. "Thud." He struck the snare drum, then hit a cymbal. "Crash." But suddenly,

[System activated.]

[Host detected.]

"Huh?" Eric gasped, startled by a mechanical, robotic voice echoing inside his head.

But before his brain could even process what was happening, "Aaaah!" Eric suddenly screamed as a searing heat ripped through his hand, making him feel like his palm was literally catching fire. He whipped his hand up to inspect it, his eyes widening in total shock as he saw that vintage guitar pick morphing into a permanent tattoo right on his palm.

"W-what is this?!" Eric panicked.

Suddenly, the room began to spin, and a massive wave of dizziness hit him. "Thud." Eric stumbled forward, desperately grabbing onto a cymbal stand for balance. "Thud." He collapsed face-first onto the stage floor alongside the clattering cymbal stand, his consciousness rapidly fading away.

"What’s happening to me... h-help... somebody help..."

Eric’s head slumped against the floor as he blacked out. A bright, glowing blue aura, rippling like fire, completely enveloped his body.

***

[Host shut down...completed]

[Host register]

Name : Eric Reed.

Age : 18 years old.

Gender : Male.

Blood type : O

Personality : Excellent.

Face : Poor

[Enhance Face....100 % completed]

Enhance Face : Excellent.

Confidence : Poor.

[Enhance Confidence...100 % completed]

Enhance Confidence : Excellent.

Voice : Poor.

[Enhance Voice....100 % completed]

Enhance Voice : Excellent.

Composer Brain : Poor.

[Enhance Composer Brain.....100 % completed]

Enhance Composer Brain : Excellent.

Charm : Poor.

[Enhance Charm.....100 % completed]

Enhance Charm : Excellent.

[Registration completed]

[Merging system with host’s soul...completed.]

[Unpack system packet: music skill]

Guitar skill (max).

Bass skill (max).

Drum skill (max).

Keyboard skill (max).

DJ mix skill (max).

Vocal (max).

[Unpack music skill completed] 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

[Unpack additional skill]

Fighting skill...installed.

Social skill...installed.

Emotion control skill...installed.

[Unpack additional skill completed]

[Installing module...completed.]

[Unpack module.]

System Inventory...installed.

Martial Art Knowledge...installed.

[Unpack module completed.]

[Installation process completed]

[Registration Reward: $500,000, transferred to host’s account under the name Eric Watts.]

[Restarting Host.]

[Completed]

***

"Ugh."

Eric groaned, waking up. He opened his eyes and stared out at the massive, empty venue floor in front of him. His head was still throbbing slightly, and his thoughts hadn’t fully cleared. "Tap." "Tap." "Tap." Without him even realizing it, his fingers were tapping a rhythm against the stage floor, creating a melodic, resonant sound.

Once his mind cleared, he pushed himself up, dragged his body back to the drum stool, and sat down. He examined his palm, staring in bewilderment at the pick-shaped tattoo.

"What just happened to me?" he muttered.

He looked over at the drum kit, and a strange sensation bubbled up inside him. Instinctively, he picked up the drumsticks, spun around to face the drums, and set the fallen cymbal stand back upright. Eric gasped as his fingers suddenly twirled the sticks at a blinding speed, his feet automatically dropping onto the foot pedals like a seasoned professional.

"Thump." "Thud." "Bang." "Crash!"

Eric’s hands blurred as he hammered the drums in a seamless rotation, his feet steadily stomping the pedal to punch the bass drum and cymbal. His head started bobbing to the rhythm, his entire body moving with the precision of a world-class veteran drummer. A massive smile broke across his face as he realized he was absolutely loving every second of it.

"Hahahahaha, this is incredible! But how is this even possible... this is literally the first time I’ve ever sat behind a drum kit," he cheered out loud, completely thrilled despite his confusion.

His movements accelerated, his hands drumming so fast they became a total blur, creating a heavy, driving rhythm. Meanwhile, outside the basement, the muffled echo of Eric’s drumming traveled up to the street. Several pedestrians caught the sound, turning their heads as they walked past the staircase leading down to the venue. A few people even stopped completely, straining their ears to listen closely.

A beautiful girl with straight black hair, who looked like a student since she was wearing a school uniform, stopped dead in her tracks right in front of the stairs and peered down inside.

"Huh... someone’s playing the drums down there? Did this concert venue finally reopen?" she wondered to herself, a puzzled look on her face.

Driven by curiosity, the girl turned on her heel and started heading down the stairs to get a better listen. However, her path was blocked by a security rolling door halfway down the stairwell, forcing her to peer through the metal gaps. The driving rhythm of the drums echoed much louder from there. A massive grin broke across her face.

"Wow, it’s true! Someone is actually playing the drums inside. Maybe this venue is finally reopening soon... I’ve got to tell the rest of the group," she whispered excitedly.