The episode at the palace had nothing to do with Claude.
No matter how shrewd he believed himself to be, compared to those beaten down by society, he had still been pampered by Dean all his life. He had never known his parents.
Claude was more like a carefully cultivated rose with thorns. No matter how sharp those thorns were, if the flower was beautiful enough, it would still be plucked. His vigilance was nothing more than basic common sense—something his adoptive father, the Dean of the Male Protection Association, had instilled in him from a very young age.
A person who had never truly stepped into the outside world, who had lived only within the confines of a small villa—how could he make proper decisions or judge reality?
…
Claude was now lying on the floor, sprawled out with his arms and legs spread. He struggled to get up, but his body refused to obey. The poor little male looked utterly bullied.
The system continued encouraging him to complete the tasks honestly. Claude felt deeply aggrieved. When had he ever encountered such hardship? Even now, he had yet to complete a single task displayed on the screen.
[ Please get up, Host.
The repair fluid rewarded by the system can recover all fatigue and injuries received by the host's body. ]
The "salesman" system began listing the advantages of its products, trying to lure the little lamb.
After half a day, Claude finally finished his daily tasks. The running task could be completed on a treadmill—an exception the system claimed it had graciously allowed.
[ Daily Task 1 : Running (1/1) km
Daily Task 2 : Push-ups (100/100)
Daily Task 3 : Squats (100/100)
Daily Task 4 : Pull-ups (100/100)
Task Reward : Food ×1
Novice Bonus : Repair Fluid ×1 ]
[ Food Box ×1 : Obtained ]
[ Repair Fluid ×1 : Obtained ]
Claude was happy.
He gulped down the repair fluid in one go and opened the food box. The metallic black container held three servings—clearly meant for three meals a day.
After taking the first bite, his eyes widened. His entire body felt refreshed. This was clearly a delicacy . As he devoured the food eagerly, he felt that the effort had been worth it. There was no longer any reluctance to work hard.
Mm. Of course you have to work hard to eat,
he thought silently.
In the background, the system stared at the blinking probability data before quietly closing it. It was a good thing—there would be no need to waste energy on punishments.
…
A week passed in the blink of an eye.
During this time, Claude's physique changed visibly. His muscles were no longer as tender as they had been at the beginning. His face also shed its baby fat. He would reach his final awakening stage sooner or later.
Now, he felt it was better to be strong.
The system did not arrange any classes for him during the first week. It already had its own plans.
The host was far too… gullible.
He needed to step down from his high horse and face reality.
And so, Claude was forced to make a choice.
[ Mission 1 : Rescue 10 Male Zergs
Time Limit : 10 days
Reward : 10 Draw Chances
Note : The positioning system will activate upon mission acceptance.
The host can accurately locate nearby male zergs requiring rescue.
Penalty : Daily Tasks ×3 ]
Claude hesitated.
If he stayed, the starship would depart, and he would never have another chance to leave the planet. The suffocating bunker was no longer safe—sooner or later, someone would notice the abnormal activity.
Yet when he thought of his adoptive father, Dean, and his unwavering concern for their kind, Claude felt overwhelmed.
He accepted the mission.
Before setting out, he prepared thoroughly. With the system acting as both guide and instructor, the preparations went smoothly and comprehensively.
…
Without his terminal, Claude could not contact anyone. He accepted that he would be stranded on this planet, forced to live in hiding until he could make a comeback.
Dressed in black and fully covered, with only his eyes exposed, Claude moved silently through the night toward a club. The little cub had never been to such a place before.
Creeping up to a second-floor window, he slipped inside, making as little noise as possible.
Just as the system signaled that the area was temporarily safe, he heard suspicious sounds. Heavy breathing.
He slowly approached the door and leaned closer to listen. It was already ajar, and as he leaned in, it opened slightly more.
What he saw inside made his stomach churn. He desperately swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.
Three strong females stood naked, sneers on their faces. In the center, a male was bound in a twisted posture with thin hemp ropes. His body was covered in blood, crisscrossed with whip marks and bite wounds.
Facing the door, his head tilted upward, Claude could clearly see his bloodied genitals hanging limply, as if they would never be used again. One of the females smeared a thick paste over them and laughed.
Claude fled through the window.
He ran until he collapsed in a dark alley, retching violently.
The system remained silent, watching its host burn with rage and hatred.
According to its data, the host had been living in a fairy tale—where he imagined himself a prince, and everyone else merely waiting for him to save them.
With that mindset, the system would never complete its commission.
This was reality.
…
Claude returned to the bunker he had lived in for the past week. Inside was a bathroom. The outer door could only be opened from within; if someone attempted to force it open from the outside, a poisonous substance would be released continuously.
He had once planned to escape this planet.
Now, he was uncertain.
What should he do?
What he had witnessed today lay far outside his understanding. His physiology classes had taught him one thing, yet the brutality he saw told a completely different story.
The system had stated this was the least dangerous target.
A bone-chilling cold spread through him.
Did that mean the remaining nine were far worse?
The system did not answer.
After bathing, the horrific scene replayed in his mind. He retched again, vomiting for nearly an hour. Exhausted, he finally curled up in a corner like a frightened beast.
The system felt no concern about shattering its host's worldview.
It was a better than dying without knowing how.
A new plan was calculated, and the system determined that it was almost time for the second step—
to cure the delusional disorder of this greenhouse-raised prince.