The nurse's office was filled with a strange smell, a mix of disinfectant and cheap bedsheets.
"So, you're sure you weren't hit by something, you didn't have a sudden seizure, and you're not on drugs?" the school nurse, a woman who looked like she'd lost her passion for her job and for life, asked, shining a small flashlight into Shawn's pupils for the third time. Her tone was full of suspicion.
"I'm sure," Shawn answered weakly. He felt like a squeezed-out lemon. The excruciating pain was gone, but a bone-deep exhaustion had taken its place. Worse, the damned red health bar in the upper right corner of his vision, [99/100], stubbornly floated there like a ghost, a constant reminder that what had just happened was no hallucination.
"He's just under too much stress, a lot of midterms lately," Leo chimed in, trying to smooth things over. He looked worriedly at Shawn's pale face. "He definitely pulled an all-nighter playing games again last night."
The nurse shrugged noncommittally and put away her flashlight. "Alright, just a common panic attack. Nothing serious. Lie here for half an hour, then go back, drink some hot water, and look at screens less." After saying her piece, she turned and went back to her desk, clearly having lost interest in the student who had wasted ten minutes of her precious downtime.
Leo let out a sigh of relief and plopped down on the chair beside Shawn's bed. "You scared the hell out of me, man. The way you looked back there, I thought you were about to ascend on the spot."
Shawn gave a bitter smile, unable to explain. He couldn't very well say, "There's rogue software installed in my brain, and now it's threatening to uninstall my life," could he? He was a straight guy, not interested in men, and now some bizarre system was forcing him to "conquer" another man. This was absurdity's mother opening the door for absurdity—absurdity had come home.
He closed his eyes, trying to sort through his chaotic thoughts. The "Succubus System" had gone quiet for now, but its presence ticked away in his head like a time bomb. Conquer Eric Dane? What kind of cosmic joke was this? The distance between him and that kind of campus celebrity was greater than the distance from Earth to Alpha Centauri.
Just then, the familiar electronic notification sound chimed again.
[Newbie Mission has been updated.]
Shawn's eyes flew open.
[Mission 1: Initial Contact.] [Objective: Within 24 hours, obtain a personal item from the conquest target.] [Reward: HP +1, Charm +0.1.] [Failure Penalty: Electric shock.] [Countdown: 23:58:12]
"Electric shock?" Shawn nearly leaped off the bed.
"What electric shock?" Leo jumped, startled by him.
"Nothing, I said... I think I want something to drink," Shawn stammered, making up a random excuse as cold sweat trickled down his temple. This system was serious. Not only could it take his life, but it could also torture him anytime, anywhere.
He couldn't just sit here and wait to die.
Half an hour later, ignoring Leo's protests, Shawn insisted on leaving the nurse's office. He wandered the campus like a ghost, his mind racing, trying to come up with a foolproof plan that would complete the mission without getting him arrested as a pervert.
Steal? He didn't have the guts or the skill.
Mug him? The guy was the football team's quarterback; Shawn would probably be flicked away with a single finger.
Ask? "Hey, Eric, I know we don't know each other, but can I have one of your things? Anything will do, even a sock." —No, that was even more suspicious than just admitting he was a pervert.
Time ticked by, the countdown in his mind like a death sentence. Just as he was about to despair, he saw the figure by the window of the campus coffee shop.
Eric Dane was sitting there alone, a laptop and a cup of coffee in front of him. The afternoon sun streamed through the glass, casting a golden outline on him, making him look like a deity untouched by the mortal world. Shawn felt a surge of irritation, unable to understand how a man could look so... perfect. It made his upcoming task feel even more bizarre and humiliating.
He hid furtively behind a tree outside the coffee shop, observing like a third-rate detective. An opportunity. He needed an opportunity.
A few minutes later, it came. Eric's phone rang. He answered it and started packing up his things as he talked. He closed his laptop, put it in his backpack, then picked up his coffee cup and took a sip, seemingly ready to leave.
Shawn's eyes were glued to that coffee cup. It was a white mug with the school logo, provided by the coffee shop. But Eric had used it. It was covered in his... DNA! That definitely counted as a "personal item"!
After finishing his call, Eric shouldered his bag and turned toward the door, completely forgetting the cup on the table.
Now's the time!
Shawn took a deep breath and, like a clumsy cheetah about to pounce, rushed into the coffee shop. He walked toward the table Eric had just left, feigning composure, his heart pounding wildly. His plan was to quickly grab the cup before anyone noticed and then blend into the crowd and make a getaway.
However, fate clearly enjoyed playing jokes on him.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch the cup, Eric Dane actually walked back in.
"Sorry, I forgot my..." Eric's voice came from above his head.
Shawn's body froze instantly, as if someone had hit the pause button. He looked up and met a pair of blue eyes like glacial meltwater. Eric's gaze fell on his hand reaching for the cup, his brow furrowing slightly, his eyes filled with confusion.
The air seemed to solidify.
Shawn's mind went blank. In a panic, he yanked his hand back. As he recoiled, his foot caught on a chair leg. He lost his balance and fell backward with a cry of alarm.
I'm so screwed! he thought, closing his eyes, bracing for intimate contact with the cold floor.
But the expected pain never came. A strong, powerful arm wrapped around his waist with lightning speed, steadying him. Still shaken, Shawn opened his eyes to find himself being held by Eric Dane in an extremely awkward semi-embrace. The heat of Eric's palm was clearly perceptible through his thin T-shirt, branding his side and making his whole body stiffen.
Eric was stunned, too. He had just reached out instinctively to save someone, but as he steadied the stumbling guy, a strange feeling washed over him. The person in his arms was thinner than he'd expected, and... he smelled something faint and pleasant. Looking at Shawn's eyes, wide with panic, he suddenly felt that this guy, who was always acting weird, was maybe... not so annoying.
"Are you..." Eric started to ask if he was okay.
Bang!
The moment he was caught, Shawn's other hand flailed wildly and knocked over the coffee on the table. The brown liquid splashed out, landing precisely on Eric Dane's expensive white sneakers.
A drop, then two, bloomed on the pristine white surface like a failed abstract painting.
The shock seemed to snap Eric out of his daze, and he let go.
Shawn sprang away as if he'd been electrocuted, feeling like his life was over. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I... I didn't do it on purpose!" He frantically pulled out some paper towels, crouched down, and tried to wipe Eric's shoes.
"Hey, don't!" Eric took a step back, avoiding his "attack," his expression shifting from confusion to utter strangeness. "It's fine, it's just coffee."
He looked at Shawn, who was crouching on the floor, clutching a wad of wet paper towels, his face beet red, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. The look of inquiry in his eyes deepened. What is with this guy?
"I'm fine! Really! I just... have low blood sugar!" Shawn scrambled to his feet, explaining incoherently. "I was just trying to help you clear your cup! Yes, that's it! Being a Good Samaritan!"
Eric stared at him for a few seconds, his gaze like he was looking at an alien creature. Finally, he seemed to give up trying to understand. He just picked up the empty, sticky cup and said to Shawn, "Okay... well... thanks?"
With that, he turned and walked to the counter's recycling bin, placed the cup inside, and then walked out of the coffee shop without looking back. Only this time, his steps seemed a little slower than usual.
Shawn stood frozen in place, his heart a pile of dead ashes.
Just then, the system's notification sound chimed in his mind again.
[Ding!] [Mission 1 has been completed.] [Evaluation: Disaster-level. The host completed the mission in a foolish manner incomprehensible to mortals, but the "forced intimate contact" effectively triggered the conquest target's initial interest.] [Rewards have been distributed: HP +1, current [100/100]. Charm +0.1, current [5.1].] [Newbie protection period has ended. Good luck, you moron.]