William—no, Fang Yuan—glanced at the faint panel shimmering before his eyes.
System 007: Tasks
Task 1: Host, grow up—crawl like an ant.
Reward: EXP +0.001 (Completed)
Task 2: Host, grow up—stop drinking a woman's milk.
Reward: EXP +0.001 (Completed)
Task 3: Host, grow up—walk like a man.
Reward: EXP +0.001 (Accepted, In Progress)
Host's Tasks:
Task 1: Awaken my aperture.
Reward: Promise to complete the main task faster.
Result: Rejected. Empty promise is not payment.
Task 2: Conceal me from Heaven's will.
Reward: My parents' primeval stones.
Result: Rejected. Insufficient payment.
Task 3: Increase my aptitude.
Reward: A great amount of primeval stones.
Result: Rejected. Insufficient payment.
A mocking note lingered at the end:
Host, you possess nothing. No primeval stones, no value. Behave like a good child and follow my tasks. Leave the main mission to me.
This was the reality of Fang Yuan's "system."
Unlike the fantasies of other worlds, where hosts were gifted invincible buffs, his was a merchant—cold, calculating, bound by profit. Both sides could issue tasks, both could reject. Each rejection required reason, overseen by some distant multiversal judge.
And yet, Fang Yuan's demands were denied without exception, while the system's petty orders were enforced.
He drank the milk Fang Mo spoon-fed him, eyes half-lidded, gaze fixed on the glowing script.
A trace of coldness flickered in his heart.
'Did this system think I could not survive without its help?'
His lips curled—though as an infant, the expression was more of a pout.
But when his eyes slid to the faint counter at the bottom of the panel, that coldness thinned.
EXP: 0.013
The system's rewards were pitiful, scraps unworthy of notice. But the description of EXP made his mind stir.
EXP could be converted—into comprehension, strength, attainment, even aptitude. To gain such power required only luck.
Only… the minimum price to buy that was 1 EXP. And so far, each humiliating "task" had given him only 0.001.
The road ahead was endless. Yet Fang Yuan's eyes darkened with resolve.
I already know this world's future. With enough time, enough attainments, I definitely can....
He began to doze off, his eyes gently closing.
....
Three years slipped by like water through clenched fists.
Fang Yuan sat in silence, his childish face unnaturally solemn, brows knitted as he stared at the translucent panel hovering before his eyes.
System 007: Tasks
Task 1: Leap from your chamber window within twenty-four hours. Ensure severe injury.
Reward: EXP +0.01
Task 2: Let your fall appear accidental.
Reward: EXP +0.001, parents abandoning their clan mission.
Task 3: Employ Gu Yue Dong Tu to complete the clan mission.
Reward: EXP +0.001, your parents safety, and a peaceful existence within the Fang household.
At the bottom, a chilling reminder burned like iron against his thoughts:
Failure to complete any of these tasks will ensure the next fifteen years of your life become a living hell.
The letters pulsed faintly, like veins filled with blood, cold and merciless.
Fang Yuan's small hands clenched into fists.
Without hesitation, Fang Yuan struck back—questions filed like knives.
Hosts Tasks
Task 1: Why must I be the one to jump? Aren't there other methods?
Reward: 1 Primeval Stone.
Task 2: Should I instead push Fang Zheng and stage it as an accident?
Reward: 1 Primeval Stone.
Task 3: And what of the pain—your orders demand injury. Can you at least show any mercy?
Reward: 1 Primeval Stone.
Three stones vanished from his hands like smoke the moment he submitted the questions.
He'd discovered a year before that the task-window wasn't just a scoreboard—it was a market. Everything cost primeval stones or something.
This system was not a patron. It was a merchant with a blade.
A blackhearted thing that traded information for payment and pleasure for leverage.
Soon, the panel pulsed.
Result 1:There are countless alternatives. This method carries the highest probability of success.
Result 2:You may do as you wish. But if you don't accept the task, don't expect the reward too.
Result 3:You were likely close to death in your previous life. What is a little pain compared to that? Endure it—be a man, for once.
The final line landed like a slap—clinical, contemptuous.
...
A single, ugly word ripped out of him.
"Ah—fuck it!" Fang Yuan spat, pushing to his feet and stalking toward the window.
Outside, the mountain village spread like a patched quilt of pale green—stilted houses built of bamboo and timber clinging to the slope. Two stories high: ground level a web of massive stakes, the second floor where families lived.
Fang Yuan and his family lay on that upper floor, swung between sky and drop.
He pressed up against the sill and watched the roofs roll away into the valley. His heart thundered in his chest—two loud, obstinate beats.
Thump.
Thump.
"I have to jump?" The question slipped out, small and hollow.
Sorrow flared briefly—an animal ache at the thought of falling. Then it curdled into something hotter. Rage rose like bile. He shoved the thought down with a shout.
"No. Hell no."
"I'm not Fang Yuan." He spit the name like a curse.
"I'm William. William Kingston."
The room seemed to mock him with its quiet: a child's cot, the dim panel blinking like an indifferent eye.
"Do you expect me to be ruthless to myself?" he barked at the empty air.
"No." He stepped back from the sill, fingers clenched, face raw with contempt.
"Damn this task. Damn everything."
Words turned to movement—impulse that tasted like refusal.
He spun away from the window and fled into the next room, boots thudding on wooden boards.
...
A soft hum filled the room.
"Mm, mm… mm, mm, mm!"
A boy knelt by a shallow basin, pushing tiny bamboo boats across the water's surface, his childish tune bobbing with the ripples.
The door creaked. Another boy—his mirror in every feature—stumbled in, panting.
Fang Yuan's lips curled into a smile.
"Fang Zheng! Let's play hide and seek!"
At once, Fang Zheng's eyes lit up.
"Okay!" he chirped, squeezing his eyes shut and beginning to count.
But the smile on Fang Yuan's face did not last. The moment his brother's gaze vanished into darkness, that warmth turned to ice.
Sorry, brother… I'm too afraid of pain.
The thought sank like a stone in his chest. He watched Fang Zheng counting, innocent, oblivious.
After all, you'll be the one with A-grade aptitude.
As for me? C-grade trash. His gaze hardened.
It's only right that strong protect the weak, isn't it?
The corner of his lips twisted into a mocking smile.
He couldn't tell who he was mocking more—his brother, or himself.