What's worse than your microwave dying on pizza day? Getting drafted into an alien survival game when I just wanted to binge-watch shows. My life was perfect until godlike aliens conscripted humanity into their cosmic war. They offered Tutorial difficulties—from Hell to Very Easy. Think you're tough, picking Hell Tutorial? I chose Noob Difficulty—the one for real men! And the System totally didn't trick me into it... okay, maybe it kinda did. "Survival chance: one," it said. Sounds safe, right? Spoiler alert: it means only one survivor out of a million. Now I'm stuck in this ultimate deathmatch with the power to control duct tape (jealous?), while others fling fireballs. Then there's Emilia—overpowered magic powers and a hero complex the size of a planet. She wants to save everyone, including me. Cute, isn't it? Me? I just want to survive and get back to my couch. Let's just hope heroism isn't contagious; the last thing I need is a conscience. Note to self: no exchanging fluids with Emilia. She's hot, though... So here I am, dodging monsters and dealing with Miss Perfect. And while everyone laughs at my powers, if I can figure out how to make the most of them, duct tape just might really fix everything—even this mess.