Seraphine looked absolutely thrilled with the Fire Rock Dragon’s freshly regrown scales. So thrilled, in fact, that she decided to hop on its back for a joyride through the mountain peaks.

The moment the Dragon took flight, flames erupted across its scales like a miniature sun streaking through the vast blue-green mountains. It cut through wisps of cloud with the grace of a falling meteor, and every bird in the sky scattered before we even got close.

Wind whipped through Seraphine’s hair as her gold-red robes seemed to merge with the fire itself. She gazed up at the sunlight with pure contentment, then turned to look at me.

“How is it?” she asked.

I gave her my honest assessment: I was flying under my own power, working very hard not to fall behind, so asking for my opinion on her scenic flight was… pointless.

“I shouldn’t have asked you,” Seraphine said, exasperated. She waved her sleeve dismissively, and the mountain-river embroidery on her hem passed right through my silver-white form without leaving the slightest trace.

Wind, rain, sunlight, snow, frost—nothing in this world seemed capable of leaving a mark on me.

Seraphine suddenly looked bored. She patted the Fire Rock Dragon’s head and had it land back in the courtyard.

“This entire mountain belongs to me,” she told the Dragon. “It’s the most spiritually rich area in Luanyang Palace, and no one will disturb you here. Find yourself a palace hall or cave dwelling for cultivation. I’ll have someone bring you whatever you need.”

The Fire Rock Dragon was like a withered tree meeting spring rain—its spiritual power was abundant once again. It shrank its form considerably, then coiled affectionately around Seraphine’s legs twice before reluctantly departing.

Once it was gone, I opened my interface panel.

“Host, shall we proceed as previously discussed—stealing the protagonist’s opportunities and his women?” I asked. If so, I’d need to generate branching quests for Seraphine and provide appropriate rewards.

This was the task format I was familiar with.

The moment Seraphine heard me mention “stealing women,” she looked like she had a headache. “If Xue Bufan ever changes his taste and prefers men over women, am I supposed to steal all those men too?”

Why not? If we’re choosing the antagonistic route, I support any action the host takes against the protagonist. I have no opinion on stealing the protagonist’s lovers, regardless of their gender or number.

“If the host has preferences regarding orientation, I will accommodate them,” I said. I could provide flexibility within my capabilities when generating branching quests.

Besides, in the cultivation world, do people really care about their dao companion’s gender?

—Quote from one of my previous hosts.

“True enough,” Seraphine chuckled, reaching out to point at me through the air. “You’re also a little thing without gender.”

My silver-white orb body with its two black eye-circles remained perfectly still. “My gender is female,” I said calmly. “We decided this together.”

“Has the host forgotten?” I asked.

Seraphine saw a string of new items appear on my panel as my flat, cold mechanical voice announced: “Host’s memory appears deficient. Suggest adding brain-enhancing and memory-improving items to reward inventory.”

“Your brain is what’s deficient! Cancel all of that!” Seraphine snapped, suddenly understanding why systems like me are intangible and untouchable.

“If you had a physical form, you’d already be burned to ash by now!” she said viciously.

My silver-white orb floated ahead like a guide while my mechanical voice responded: “Understood. Understood.”

I sounded completely unbothered by her threats.

Seraphine walked behind me. If looks could kill systems, I would have died several times over.

“I’ve adjusted the reward parameters based on the host’s characteristics. Shall I generate tasks now?” I confirmed with Seraphine. “The goal is rapid ascension while maintaining antagonism toward the protagonist.”

For rapid ascension, the fastest method is still stealing opportunities from the protagonist. Higher risk, higher reward.

The result is still opposing the protagonist!

After all, this is a world where all the good stuff ends up in the protagonist’s hands.

Seraphine: “…”

“Echo, you’re rather inflexible,” Seraphine laughed, taking a few quick steps to get in front of me. She placed her hand on a door.

The corridor had no windows, making everything dim except for the luminous pearls embedded in the walls casting their soft glow.

Seraphine’s face looked dreamlike and beautiful in the pearl light. She curved her lips into a smile and spoke in a gentle, soft voice.

“Xue Bufan and I aren’t necessarily enemies. Today’s friend might be tomorrow’s enemy, and yesterday’s enemy could become tomorrow’s ally. If he and I truly had a fight-to-the-death relationship, I’d accept your tasks without hesitation.”

“…”

My silver-white data orb looked somewhat ethereal.

Despite being a high-level system, I felt like I was facing a major problem. After a full three seconds of processing, I said: “Does the host mean that you might become friends with Xue Bufan in the future, so you don’t want to accept tasks?”

Seraphine crossed her arms over her chest, considered my interpretation, then shook her head.

“No. Xue Bufan and I aren’t the same type of people. At most we’d be acquaintances, never friends.”

Her expression and tone became resolute. “You mentioned before that I might fall in love with Xue Bufan…”

Just the hypothetical made her frown.

“That’s even more impossible.”

If she won’t be friends with him and won’t fall for him, then why not accept the tasks?

I searched my vocabulary database and slapped the words “melancholy” on my forehead.

In my extensive work career, every assignment followed the same pattern: I descend into the task world, bind with a host, explain the situation, the host goes through a brief or extended period of doubt, then accepts the task and we begin.

I’d never experienced such a long blank period before. Even now, the host hasn’t decided on a task direction!

How can we complete the mission at this rate?

The “melancholy” on my forehead quickly switched to “anxious.” I felt like the host had no idea how serious this situation was.

“Host, knowing of the protagonist’s existence and the high probability of future conflict, you must strike first!” I insisted.

My attitude would be completely villainous in any novel. And it looked like I was committed to the villain path.

Seraphine clicked her tongue. “Fine. Actually, I’m quite interested in the things Xue Bufan will encounter in the future. If they’re all like the Fire Rock Dragon, stealing them wouldn’t be a loss.”

Her long lashes lowered, hiding the expression in her eyes. I could only see the smile on Seraphine’s face.

“You looked like you wanted to refuse just now,” I pointed out.

“Oh, are you complaining about me?” Seraphine asked.

“No, I don’t possess such emotions,” my mechanical voice replied.

I’m an emotionless system, the host’s helpful assistant, humanity’s good companion.

I cycled this text on my panel display.

“You’re not very friendly toward Xue Bufan,” Seraphine said deliberately.

I paused, then suddenly said: “The host doesn’t seem as heartless toward the protagonist as your words suggest. I can modify the task keywords to gently steal the plot opportunities that should belong to the protagonist.”

Anyone who’d faced me in opposition during previous missions should really see this statement.

Seraphine’s mouth twitched. Being a supporting character didn’t seem so bad after all.

But there was one thing that needed clarification.

“I have no interest in Xue Bufan,” Seraphine said. “I just wanted to tease you.”

The beautiful woman gave a mischievous smile and shut the door right in my face.

The system stood outside the door in long silence.

But at least we could finally do tasks.

I quickly sent a task generation request to the main system.

My neatly organized data package was immediately cut off upon transmission and dumped at my feet like garbage.

A warning popped up:

[High-level system detected. No tasks will be generated for this world. Please explore independently.]

Me: “…………”