Chapter 2: One Percent Progress

As soon as I entered the gate, my eyes started searching for Mishra even before attendance.

Looked left.
Looked right.
Looked near the stairs.
Even checked behind the notice board (yes, I know people don’t spawn from there).

But…

Not even 0% was visible.

“What if she doesn’t come today?”

The panic calculator inside me turned on.

Probability of bad day: 78%
Probability of boring lecture: 92%
Probability of overthinking: 100%

I went to class. Put my bag down. But my eyes stayed on the door.

The door opened.

Mishra walked in.

My heart did an internal slow clap.
“Finally, system booted.”

As always, she came and sat on the bench next to me.

I immediately looked up.

0%

“At least attendance is consistent,” I said in my mind.

Class started.
Sir began writing a huge math problem on the board.

The kind of problem that screams — I am your enemy.

I paid more attention to 0% than to the equation.

Sometimes I’d look up.
0%.
Back to the board.
Back to 0%.

There are only two constants in my life:
Gravity.
And Mishra’s 0%.

Suddenly—

“Mahir! Stand up.”

My soul prepared to leave my body.

“Solve this problem.”

I walked to the board.

This is it, I thought.
Hero arc.
Redemption scene.

If I write the correct answer today…
Maybe 0% → 5%?
Bonus smile unlocked?

I started calculating with the seriousness of scientists decoding an alien signal.

Wrote one step.
Paused.
Wrote another step — confidently.

The class was silent.
Everyone hopeful.
(Or entertained.)

Mishra was looking at me.

Background music played in my head.

I wrote the final answer.
Placed the chalk down dramatically.

Sir looked at it for a few seconds.

This is the validation moment, I thought.

Sir said:
“Wrong.”

One word.
One bullet.

The class exploded with laughter.

I looked at Mishra.

She was laughing.

And at that exact moment—

0% → 1%

My breath stopped.

“YESSS—”

Fireworks inside my head.

In excitement, I blurted out:
“Teacher, at least it increased by one percent!”

The class double exploded.

Sir shouted,
“How many percent do I have to explain to you?!”

I immediately looked above Sir.

0%

“The system is in alliance with Sir…” I thought.

I was sent back to my seat.

I sat quietly.

Mishra softly said,
“It’s okay. Your answer was interesting.”

“It was wrong.”

“But the confidence was 100%.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“A little.”

She smiled.

I immediately looked up.

1%

Still 1%.

But now that 1% wasn’t pity.

It was a shared joke.

I slowly said,
“I couldn’t give the right answer…
but I engaged the audience.”

“You perform more than you attend lectures,” she said.

“Yeah. Attendance free, entertainment paid.”

She laughed again.

Inside my head, calculations began:

Smile frequency ↑
Eye contact duration ↑
0% error chance ↓

Maybe the system update is slow.

But progress is happening.

That day, I understood a new theorem:

Giving the correct answer earns marks.
Giving the wrong answer with confidence earns memories.

And maybe…

For Mishra,
I don’t need to become a genius.

I just need to be
slightly ridiculous.