Out stepped exactly what he'd pictured—an old man with a cane, beard long enough to sweep the ground, back bent like a question mark.
Liu Yang's eyes went wide. His soul almost slipped out.
"…Oh no. No, no, no. Don't you dare. Don't you freaking dare."
The old man coughed hard, holding his chest like the cough itself might kill him, then pointed a shaky hand forward.
"O brave adventurers… please… help us. Dire wolves… tormenting our poor village…"
Liu Yang stomped his foot, his jaw hanging.
"There it is! Right on cue! Next thing you'll tell me you got a sick granddaughter too!"
Inside, he was screaming. "This isn't a world, this is a recycled script from some lazy god with no imagination!"
The screen flickered.
[Congratulations, Host. You have unlocked the Hidden Quest: Predict the Script.]
[Reward: Pure salt.]
The old man's voice cracked like an old door hinge.
"O… Hero… y-you knew… my granddaughter… she is sick…"
His wrinkled hands shook as he leaned on his cane, eyes wide, tears forming.
"Of course… the goddess has sent you here… to save us!"
And before Liu Yang could even breathe, the old man dropped down on his knees, forehead nearly smacking the dirt.
"O great Hero, chosen by the goddess herself, save my poor child, save our village!"
Liu Yang blinked hard, his jaw hanging open. His inner voice screamed.
"Hero?! Goddess?! Oh no no no—stop right there, old man! She did choose me, yeah… then tossed me out like yesterday's garbage! I'm not the goddess's Hero, I'm her bloody recycle bin!"
The old man didn't stop. His voice shook, full of blind faith.
"You saw the dire wolves… you knew my granddaughter's plight… truly, only the goddess's chosen Hero could carry such knowledge…"
Liu Yang dragged a hand over his face, groaning. His chest puffed out with a long sigh.
"Perfect. Just perfect. I go to register as an adventurer… and suddenly I'm the knock-off Hero in a village tutorial quest."
The System screen flickered.
[Correction, Host: You are not a knock-off Hero.]
[You are the budget version.]
His jaw cracked. Silence. Just silence. Then he hissed—
"Budget?! Even in another world I'm on discount?!"
Liu Yang's head snapped up, veins bulging on his forehead.
"System—shut the hell up!"
Then something smacked his head. Not a rock, not a fist—just an idea. Small, but it hit strong.
Act like a hero. Wear the crown. Get the cheer. Get the money. Get the girls.
His brain kept going. He was walking into town with a big sword strapped to his back.
Everyone gasped. Kids ran after him shouting, "Hero! Hero!"
Ladies tossed flowers at his feet. Merchants shoved food into his hands, no questions asked. Meat, bread, wine—tables piled high just for him.
Girls clung to his arms, fighting over who would pour his drink. The village chief dropped to his knees, handing him the key to the village like he was already their king.
Liu Yang rubbed his fingers together, one sliding over the other on top, the way greedy men do when they dream of coins.
His lips pulled into an ugly little smile, small and sly. His eyes half closed, a faint glow sitting in them, like he was already planning something.
"Yeah," he thought, his chest moving fast, "I act hero. They clap, they give me food, they trust me. Then I laugh. I laugh hard."
His head turned left, then right. No cameras here. No records. No ID cards. No fingerprints. Nothing. Just names and faces. That was it.
Which meant he could be anyone. One name today, another tomorrow. A hero in the morning, a thief at night. Next month maybe even a king. Nobody checking. Nobody knowing.
He snorted under his breath. "Man, if the cops back home saw this system, they'd cry blood."
His mind ran wild, snatch a girl here, snatch some power there, collect everything he could touch, stack it all together until it looked like a throne, even if it was crooked and small, just high enough for him to sit on and look down.
He could see himself leaning back on it, waving his hand lazy at the goddess, watching her cry like a spoiled child, her teeth grinding, her voice breaking as she screamed that she threw the wrong one away, her fingers in her hair yanking until she was a mess, and all of it only made his grin wider.
He rubbed his palm harder, breath louder, his chest moving heavy as the air rushed in and out.
On the ground his shadow stretched long in the light, and for a moment it curved just right, shaped like a crown resting on his head.
He stared at it, and he liked it, liked the feel of it, liked the thought that maybe, just maybe, it could be real.
"Perfect," he said, low voice, grin stretching big. "Perfect, perfect, perfect."
The System screen flickered, sharp and smug in front of his eyes.
[Bravo, Host. Truly inspiring. You just built an entire evil kingdom in your head while a half-dead grandpa's been kissing dirt at your feet.]
Liu Yang shook his head fast, his grin breaking apart. "Wait… what?"
He blinked a few times and looked down. The old man was still there on his knees, grinding them into the dirt, whispering prayers like Liu Yang was the second coming of some goddess.
The System screen flashed again.
[At this pace, Host, you'll conquer the world—one daydream at a time. Warning: please avoid tripping on your own halo.]
His jaw locked, his fist shook. Inside he screamed, "Shut the hell up! I wasn't daydreaming—I was strategizing!"
The System screen blinked.
[Ah yes, very strategic. Next time maybe try strategizing in reality, not in your fanfiction brain.]
But then his eyes went wide, his whole body turning stiff. His head snapped up at the screen, and right there it hit him—he realised something.
"Wait…Wait... Wait... what… you can read my mind?"
The System screen blinked once.
[Congratulations, Host. You've solved the great mystery. Took you only ten levels and half a brain cell.]
His jaw dropped, his lips twitching. "You mean all this time… all of it… even when I—"
[Yes.]
His face turned red, sweat dripping down his temple. "Even the… the milk fantasy?!"
[Yes, Host. Sadly, burned into eternal memory.]
He clutched his head with both hands, dropping to his knees. "Noooo—erase it! Delete! Wipe the hard drive!"
The System screen flickered again, smug.
[Can't. Already backed up in cloud storage. Forever yours.]
Liu Yang's eyes went round. His jaw almost fell.
"Cloud storage?! What the hell… this isn't twenty-first century earth! Look around—mud roads, wooden houses, people still wiping their ass with leaves! Cloud storage my ass, this is medieval magic land!"
He slapped his forehead, groaning.
"Hello, System? Did you forget the damn genre of the novel? This is swords and magic, not Wi-Fi and backup plans!"