And just like that, in the face of price tags, Akina decisively abandoned the idea of adopting a Ragdoll cat.

Even so, her desire to have a cat in the house remained strong.

Seeing her yearning expression, Kaneyoshi proposed:

“How about we visit a pet shop this weekend? I know a few in Chiba. If you’re serious about adopting a cat, we can also buy all the necessary supplies—like a bed, litter, a litter box, food, and a few toys. I heard playing with toys can really help bond with a cat.”

“Alright! It’s decided then!” Akina said with a beaming smile.

After dinner, Kotomi let out a rare belch. In her haste to enjoy the meal, she’d completely forgotten that she’d already devoured two hot dogs after school. Now, she found herself in an unprecedented state—she’d eaten too much.

“Mom, I need to go for a walk. I’m so full… hic!” Before finishing her sentence, another hiccup escaped her lips.

Akina, who was washing dishes, froze mid-motion, staring at her daughter in disbelief. The dish she was holding nearly slipped from her hands.

“W-What did you just say? You’re full!?” she exclaimed, voice tinged with incredulity.

“Uh… yeah,” Kotomi replied, startled by her mother’s sudden reaction.

“Darling! Aimi! Kotomi says she’s full!”

Kan Izumi’s voice rang out from the living room. “What? Kotomi, full? The last time that happened, she was in preschool!”

Aimi, wide-eyed with mock seriousness, quipped, “Am I dreaming? My sister—my sister!—ate so much she can’t take another bite? Is this a sign of the apocalypse? I need to write this down in my diary! If the world does end someday, this page might hold as much weight as a Mayan prophecy.”

“When did you even start keeping a diary?” Kotomi frowned, flicking her sister’s forehead with a light tap of her knuckle.

The evening air was crisp and cool, making a jacket necessary. Kotomi slipped on a red-and-black varsity jacket, leaving it unzipped, and grabbed her phone and earbuds before heading out.

“Hey, Onee-chan, get me a Coke on your way back!” Aimi called out.

“Got it,” Kotomi replied.

The streetlights were already lit, casting a warm glow on the quiet street. Kotomi decided to walk to the nearby intersection, turn right, and then head to the convenience store for Aimi’s soda.

Earbuds in, she played the music she’d downloaded onto her phone. However, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as she realized many of her favorite songs from her second life didn’t exist in this one.

While expected, the realization was still disappointing.

“I need to unlock the music skill as soon as possible. If the songs I like don’t exist here, then I’ll just sing them myself—or compose them if necessary,” she resolved silently.

She mused aloud, twirling a lock of her silvery-white hair around her finger:

“Still, right now, I’m just an ordinary high school girl. I have no connections, no resources… and no, the stuff on my PC’s D-drive doesn’t count. I don’t even know anyone big in the music industry, let alone someone willing to collaborate with me.”

The challenge of music loomed large in her mind. Unlike writing light novels or drawing manga, music demanded a much higher threshold of entry. Learning an instrument required years of practice and considerable investment, and even then, being a skilled musician didn’t guarantee you’d be a good singer.

But Kotomi wasn’t too worried about the technical hurdles. She knew the system would grant her instant mastery of any skill once unlocked. What troubled her was the lack of connections.

Some songs might suit her voice perfectly, but others would inevitably feel off. After all, every song carried its unique essence—some voices naturally matched certain styles, while others didn’t.

“If I try singing something that doesn’t suit me, it’ll come across as awkward no matter how good I get. For songs like that, I’ll need other singers. But how can I even find people like that when I don’t know anyone in the industry?”

She sighed and continued walking, deep in thought.

By the time she reached the convenience store, a plan had started to take shape.

The first step was obvious: unlock the music skill and elevate herself to the top of the music world.

Once she had made a name for herself as a music virtuoso, networking with the best in the industry would naturally follow. Collaboration opportunities would come easily when others recognized her talent.

“Well, when you put it like that, it’s not so complicated. I just need to work on unlocking the music skill. If I want to connect with the best, I’ll need to become the best first.”

After grabbing a few snacks and Aimi’s Coke from the store, Kotomi approached the cashier. Once the payment was complete, she checked her phone for the time. It was getting late, and she decided to head straight home.

“It’d be dangerous for a beautiful girl like me to walk alone at night,” she muttered with a wry grin.

On her way back, curiosity got the better of her. She waved her hand, summoning the system interface to check her status.

Several skill slots were still locked, labeled as “Unknown.” Each required Fame Points to unlock. While she had no idea how many points later skills might cost, she assumed the price would only increase.

“Ugh, there are so many locked skills, and I can’t even skip around. I have to unlock them in order. Which one is the music skill, anyway?”

Kotomi groaned, her finger hovering over a slot marked as “6.”

With a slight tap, a confirmation prompt appeared:

[Would you like to spend 500,000 Fame Points to unlock this skill?]

Kotomi blinked, then glanced at her fame point balance.

She had 700,000 points?!

After a moment of hesitation, she made up her mind and tapped [Yes].

[500,000 Fame Points successfully deducted.]

[Congratulations! You have unlocked a new skill!]

The 700,000 Fame Points in Kotomi’s balance dwindled to a mere 200,000 in an instant. Even though she understood the expense was necessary, the feeling was akin to that post-online-shopping regret after seeing your bank account balance drop—a pang of heartache nonetheless.

[Congratulations! You have successfully unlocked a new skill interface…]

Kotomi stared intently at the system interface, eager to see which skill her 500,000 Fame Points had unlocked. However, after displaying a single sentence, the system froze, showing no further updates.

Where was the skill name?

The most important piece of information—the skill name—was missing!

A row of invisible question marks seemed to float above Kotomi’s head. The Fame Points had been deducted, but the skill hadn’t loaded?

What was this bizarre, steampunk-inspired, Victorian-era magical realism glitch?

Her current mood resembled downloading a game, only for the progress bar to freeze midway—no explanation, just that infuriating spinning wheel.

“Online games may not cause violence, but lagging servers sure do.”

“Kazumi! Kazumi! Come out here now!” Kotomi stomped her foot in frustration.

“Here I am! What’s wrong, Kotomi-chan? Who dared bully you? I’ll use Flame Punch to obliterate them into oblivion right away!”

Like a whirlwind, Kazumi emerged from Kotomi’s body, her fists clenched, ready to rush to her host’s defense.

“You bullied me,” Kotomi grumbled, folding her arms with a pout.

Now it was Kazumi’s turn to sprout metaphorical question marks above her head. She’d been on her best behavior recently, staying quietly inside Kotomi without scheming to drain her Fame Points—a model system, if she said so herself.

Had Kotomi just summoned her out of longing? Kazumi had rushed out eagerly, only to find Kotomi glaring at the frozen system interface with a deeply dissatisfied expression.

Kotomi pointed to the screen, and Kazumi floated over for a look. Her eyes darted to the fame point balance and then to the sixth skill slot, and realization dawned immediately.

With a grave expression, Kazumi turned to face Kotomi, dropped to her knees, and assumed a formal kneeling posture: back straight, hands placed neatly on her thighs.

Before Kotomi could process what was happening, Kazumi leaned forward, hands and forehead touching the ground in a full prostration.

“I sincerely apologize!” Kazumi declared. “I didn’t expect another bug to show up! This phenomenon could only be described as the result of a month-long-running glitch manifesting as corrupted code!”

Kotomi twitched, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. A system prone to bugs and immediately groveling for forgiveness? She had suspicions this AI might have French ancestry.

“How do you even manage to maintain a bug for an entire month? Your system and servers are truly one-of-a-kind geniuses,” she said, torn between laughing and crying. Her thoughts lingered bitterly on the 500,000 Fame Points now lost to the ether.

Kazumi stole another glance at the system before exhaling in relief.

“While, yes, this is a bug, there’s no need to panic. It’s merely a slight delay. The new skill interface should load in a few hours or by tomorrow. Once it does, you’ll have access to your sixth skill.”

“Every time I use this system, it’s like encountering a new bug. Can’t you at least maintain it occasionally?” Kotomi sighed.

In a weak but self-assured tone, Kazumi replied, “I don’t know how… The system updates itself whenever it feels like it.”

Sensing an opportunity, Kotomi smirked. “This bug really startled me. Shouldn’t you, as the system, provide some form of compensation?”

Kazumi bristled at Kotomi’s blatant attempt to milk the situation. She opened her mouth to refuse but froze when Kotomi’s expression suddenly shifted. Her pink eyes filled with tears, a faint mist of water pooling in them. Her delicate nose wrinkled as if on the verge of sobbing, and her small face contorted into the epitome of grievance.

“My Fame Points… My 500,000 Fame Points…” Kotomi whimpered, her voice trembling with sorrow.

Anyone witnessing the scene might’ve mistaken Kazumi for a heartless villain who’d just crushed Kotomi’s dreams.

“Okay, okay! Don’t cry! I’ll compensate you! I really can’t handle you…” Kazumi relented, her tone dripping with defeat.

Before she could finish her sentence, Kotomi’s expression flipped to calm. The tears threatening to spill from her eyes evaporated like morning dew under the sun.

“Great! So, what’s my compensation?” Kotomi asked, hands on her hips, exuding smug satisfaction.

“…You’re the real heartbreaker here,” Kazumi muttered under her breath before clearing her throat. “Due to the inconvenience caused by server maintenance and updates, please accept 200 Fame Points as compensation. We appreciate your understanding and continued support.”

“That sounded like an official game company announcement! And only 200 Fame Points?”

“Hey, scraps of meat are still meat! Don’t you want the 200 points?”

“Of course, I do. When will they be credited?”

Fame Points were so hard to earn that Kotomi wouldn’t let a single one slip away. Now that her goal was to unlock the music skill, her determination to stockpile Fame Points had only grown.

If Kazumi ever introduced a fame point subscription pass, Kotomi would probably buy it in a heartbeat.

“Soon, soon. The compensation will be credited after the system updates. You’ve played enough games to know—compensation is never handed out early.”

Kazumi had long noticed Kotomi’s eagerness to rack up Fame Points. While it was amusing, it was also somewhat puzzling—Kotomi hadn’t been this aggressive about point farming before.

“Why are you suddenly so keen on earning Fame Points?” Kazumi asked curiously.

“I want to unlock all the remaining skills as quickly as possible,” Kotomi admitted without hesitation.

“Ah, I see. That’s a great goal! But you were much more laid-back before. What changed?”

Kotomi shared her vision for the music world, explaining her plans to reintroduce songs she loved from her past life while expanding into original compositions. Kazumi nodded along, impressed.

“Got it! That makes a lot of sense. Music will definitely be vital if you plan to start a game company later. Plenty of famous studios rely on stellar music and visuals to make up for gameplay flaws. There’s even a studio that’s won awards multiple years in a row despite mediocre mechanics—all thanks to its music and art!”

“Right?” Kotomi said, her eyes gleaming with determination.

“So… about the sixth skill I just unlocked,” she ventured, pointing to the buffering interface. “Any idea what it could be?”

Kazumi scratched her cheek awkwardly. “Well, I can’t say for sure since it’s random. But based on the hints… it’s probably related to sound.”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep