Systems are born rational.

Systems are born calm.

I have no emotions.

I am very rational.

My floating body flickered like a hypnotic light show, dimming and brightening in what probably looked like the world’s most pathetic rave.

“I am a high-level system,” I announced in my flat mechanical voice. “High-level systems face problems bravely and don’t send erroneous error reports.”

The main system said everything was normal. This was just work pressure I had to face after upgrading to high-level status. If my unfamiliarity with advanced system protocols led to mission failure, it would merely be one spectacular failure in my otherwise long and perfect career.

Mission failure.

Performance evaluation: unsatisfactory.

Well. Failure. That’s all.

“…”

The mountains I used to stare at during idle moments now felt like they were crushing down on my tiny body. My four matchstick limbs drooped pathetically—if there had been wind, I would have been swaying like a sad little flag.

The light within me dimmed bit by bit until my black eye-circles shrank to their smallest size.

Ah. I wanted to turn completely black.

Bang.

The door in front of me opened from the inside. Seraphine lowered her hand, looking somewhat disgusted as she glanced at me.

“What are you doing out here, muttering to yourself and flickering like a broken lamp? Are you throwing a tantrum because I shut you out?”

I replied flatly: “No, I would never throw a tantrum at the host. I don’t have—”

“Those kinds of emotions,” Seraphine finished impatiently. “Then what do you want? Is it too dark out here, so you’re trying to hang yourself on the wall as a candle holder?”

“…”

Human language is vast and profound. After a long pause—I who had always maintained polite communication with my hosts—I said: “If the host requires it.”

This time, it was Seraphine’s turn to fall silent.

She glanced at the light orb outside her door with surprise, then shifted her position. Crossing her legs, she propped her chin on one hand while beckoning me over with the other.

I drifted over slowly.

“If I didn’t know you somewhat, I’d think you were sulking and answering that way on purpose,” Seraphine said, raising an eyebrow as her fingers tapped the table.

I floated over to the spot her finger had tapped and settled there.

Sulking? No, I wasn’t angry, I thought.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Seraphine said.

So I explained the inability to generate tasks. “Without tasks, there are no rewards. Without rewards, I cannot help the host improve their strength.”

How could we contend with the protagonist like this? At this rate, we’d face—

Mission failure.

A large circle appeared where my mouth should be on my silver orb face, like a human’s mouth gaping in shock.

Seraphine burst into laughter. When I looked at her, she didn’t even try to hide it, saying lazily: “You don’t seem to truly understand me yet. I am the Palace Lord of Luanyang Palace, ruler of Luanyang City, with countless heavenly treasures at my disposal. Even without your rewards, I remain the most outstanding cultivator among my peers.”

The confidence in her narrowed eyes burned like fire, carrying the pride of someone who looked down upon the world.

“Why would I need your so-called rewards!”

I opened the system shop.

“What about Supreme Golden Core Pills?”

Seraphine’s proud smile faltered. Lifting her chin arrogantly, she said: “The materials for Supreme Golden Core Pills are hard to find, but with Luanyang Palace’s wealth, we can naturally gather them and hire high-level alchemists!”

I continued browsing: “What about Chaos Sword Intent? You can comprehend the sword techniques of ascended sword immortals.”

Seraphine’s smile faded a bit. “I don’t use swords.”

“Clone Puppets. Can summon three puppets with your same cultivation level. They can take fatal hits for you in crisis situations, each capable of blocking one lethal strike from someone a full realm above you.”

Seraphine’s smile disappeared entirely.

“Ancient Divine Artifact fragments? After fusion, they can upgrade ordinary magical tools to supreme quality. Spirit Mountain Cave Dwelling—a self-contained small world with abundant spiritual energy that upgrades along with the bound user’s cultivation—”

Seraphine suddenly slammed her hand down, covering the light orb on the table.

“Level,” I finished, feeling like I could stop there.

Sure enough, Seraphine said: “Shut up.”

Covering me with her hand, Seraphine closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before saying—whether to herself or me: “These things sound tempting, but actually getting them definitely won’t be as easy as it sounds.”

“Correct,” I confirmed. It would indeed require effort, just like how I had to work hard to save up enough points to upgrade to high-level status.

Seraphine exhaled and removed her hand, snorting: “You really are here to help me.”

“Help me develop inner demons.”

Facing both a work crisis and a trust crisis, I strongly rejected Seraphine’s assessment.

“So you’re feeling down because of… this little thing?” Seraphine asked, struggling to maintain a calm tone.

What do you mean ‘little thing’? This is my life’s work!

“I am not feeling down,” I said.

Still claiming you’re not down when you’ve turned into a firefly.

Seraphine rested her cheek in her hand, looking down at me. Her beautiful face wore that familiar mocking smile.

I wracked my system brain, trying to express my thoughts in human terms.

“I feel…”

What was this feeling? The light on my body flickered, and after a moment, I said: “Empty.”

My monotone made it impossible to tell if this was a statement or a question.

If I couldn’t assist the host in completing tasks, what was the purpose of coming here? Without tasks, what should I do?

A system’s life is a framework. I operate methodically within established parameters. Being suddenly thrown outside that framework left me completely lost.

“It’s like returning to when I was first born,” I said.

The first generation of systems had no goals, no direction. We floated silently in the colorful cosmos without speaking to each other, like specks of dust among the stars.

But back then, I didn’t have this sense of emptiness, because there were other systems floating quietly alongside me.

Until the main system pulled us into the new world it had constructed, accepting its commands to carry out missions in different worlds and different stories.

From that point on, completing missions was written into my code.

Helping hosts change their fate was the only thing I had to do.

It was a system’s goal.

It was a system’s way of living.

Seraphine propped her chin up, pressing her index finger to her lips. After listening to me finish, she had a sudden realization.

“I understand now.”

I looked up at Seraphine expectantly.

Seraphine lifted her chin dismissively. “You’re too idle.”

“?” A question mark appeared above my head.

“Do you systems only live for work? Even cultivators do more than just cultivate—they travel the world gaining experience. Mortals are the same way. Despite their short lifespans, they always have endless things to do. Tell me, what do you do in your spare time?” Seraphine asked.

I answered seriously: “Besides work, I do nothing.”

Seraphine fell silent.

A light bulb appeared above my head as I smacked one of my matchstick limbs. “Recently I made a friend—another system. We chat when we meet.”

My friend system had even invited me to go shopping. If I were alone—then I’d do nothing, just wait to enter the next mission.

The main system mandated a month of rest after each mission. I didn’t understand it, but I accepted it.

Seraphine: “…”

She pointed toward the window and commanded: “In that case, go to the side hall and keep watch over Error and the new maid.”

“The woman with the same surname as Xue Bufan—I had Siyi arrange for her to tend to the Fire Rock Dragon at Phoenix Roost Peak. She was once devoted to Xue Bufan, but now that she’s entered my Luanyang Palace, I don’t know if she harbors any divided loyalties. Go watch her.”

“The side hall is quite close to me. Since there are no major events in the palace recently, I’ll be entering secluded cultivation. Besides that woman and the Dragon in the side hall, if any outsiders come to Phoenix Roost Peak, you keep a close eye on them too!” Seraphine instructed.

My shrunken eye-circles popped back to their original size as I shot upward with a whoosh. “Understood!”

“What about the mission?”

I still had the mission to change the host’s fate.

Seraphine said: “Watching them closely is part of the mission. If we discover that woman still has contact with Xue Bufan, naturally we can move against him.”

I see! The dim light on my body brightened again, and my intelligence returned.

I opened the character panel, displaying one person’s profile for Seraphine to see.

“Xue Mengtao. That’s the new maid’s name.”

After dutifully reminding Seraphine of the woman’s name, I shot toward the side hall like a meteor with a whoosh.

I came and went without causing the slightest disturbance in the hall, not even stirring the wind.

Seraphine stood stunned for a long moment, then chuckled mockingly. “What’s with that? You’re obviously so happy.”

“Though,” a hint of regret flashed in her eyes, “if there weren’t rule restrictions and you had a physical form, with that loyalty and those capabilities, if properly cultivated for my use, wouldn’t you be a perfect sword that strikes wherever I point… Pity that nothing in this world goes according to one’s wishes. Tsk.”

Seraphine lowered her gaze and cursed quietly.

“Damn heavens.”