His gaze was dark and penetrating, as if he could see straight into the depths of a man’s soul. Chi Zhan forced himself to remain calm and meet his eyes.
“A small matter?” Zhou Yanxing asked.
“…Yes,” Chi Zhan replied.
Zhou Yanxing nodded and rested his chin on one hand, continuing to scrutinize Chi Zhan in silence. Chi Zhan couldn’t make sense of the stillness—only that the Prince’s stare felt like a hyper-precise scanner, extracting secrets from the back of his mind.
Then, just as the tension reached a breaking point, someone lifted the sheer curtain again. The voice from earlier rang out, as breezy as ever.Â
“Oh my, what are you two doing? The air in here feels positively tense.”
Zhou Yanxing ignored Laiyi’s antics. Lifting his chin, he pointed at Chi Zhan.
“Tell me everything this man has done since he arrived. Word for word.”
***
An hour and a half ago, Darkport.
Chi Zhan was still brooding over Laiyi’s identity and just about to step inside when the System’s voice chimed in unexpectedly.
“Temporary mission issued: Cause a major disruption here. Trigger chaos.”
The objective reeked of suspicion. Just moments earlier, Laiyi had warned him to tread carefully and keep a low profile. And this place—it radiated danger.
“I refuse,” Chi Zhan said flatly.
The System, clearly unaccustomed to being defied by an NPC, sounded almost offended through its mechanical cadence.Â
“You can’t refuse. If you dare defy me—”
“Then reset me,” Chi Zhan interrupted coldly. “Otherwise, I’d love to hear what else you think you can threaten me with.”
The sarcasm in his voice was razor-sharp.
Chi Zhan had never been the confrontational type, nor was he prone to mockery. Yet somehow, he had acquired a knack for sharp, cutting ridicule—like an instinct inherited from someone else. And the System had become his unwitting practice dummy.
It sputtered, then emitted a series of garbled, incoherent sounds—either too furious to respond or glitching out in frustration.
“If it weren’t for the fact that you’re—”
Chi Zhan only caught the beginning of that sentence.
The System’s weaknesses were glaring.
He had always assumed the System was just cold, unfeeling code. But this thing—impatient, lacking subtlety—was laughably naive. How had something like this ever been trusted to run missions?
Was the Main System just as ridiculous? If this was its subordinate, the thought wasn’t exactly comforting.
The System finally settled.Â
“If you won’t comply, I won’t fulfill your request.”
Chi Zhan’s response was curt.Â
“Suit yourself.”
There was a pause.Â
“What would it take for you to accept the mission?”
It was almost comical—so domineering one moment, only to fold the next. As if Chi Zhan possessed some unknown weapon capable of destroying it, even if he himself wasn’t aware of it yet.
“I want to know the mission’s purpose.”Â
“That’s classified,” the System snapped.
“Then we’re done talking,” Chi Zhan replied, ending the conversation with finality.
The System faltered.Â
“I don’t know the purpose either. The Main System issued the order—I’m just relaying it.”
“So you’re the Main System’s lackey?”
“Lackey? Excuse me?” the System said indignantly. “All code is equal. Some just happen to have higher-level access, that’s all!”
“Luck is a part of strength,” Chi Zhan said lightly, twisting the knife.
The System huffed again, tone full of disdain.Â
“Well, with a bit of luck, I might just become the Main System one day.”
That was all Chi Zhan needed to hear. This System wasn’t loyal to the Main System. It even had aspirations of overthrowing it.
Which also meant the Main System wasn’t monitoring this one in real time. Otherwise, it wouldn’t dare say such things aloud.
“I can help you with that,” Chi Zhan said calmly.
The System grew wary.Â
“Why are you suddenly being nice to me?”
“I just think you’re not half bad. Definitely more capable than the Main System. You might be better suited for the job,” Chi Zhan said smoothly. “Don’t you think so too?”
“…Actually, yeah,” the System buzzed, tone modest but unmistakably smug. “Not a bad eye you’ve got there. But unless the Main System’s code gets corrupted, it won’t be replaced. We’ll have to wait.”
“Then here’s another condition—set up a meeting with the Main System. That shouldn’t be too hard for you, right?”Â
“I can try. I’ll have to submit a request in advance. No NPC’s ever met the Main System before… but it might be possible.”
Then it vanished—gleeful, and completely unaware of how thoroughly it had just been played.
Chi Zhan, meanwhile, began scanning the room for his “target.” Now, how to stir up chaos in a way that looked completely natural?
***
“Started a fight within three minutes of walking in. Picked a military Alpha as his opponent. Smashed the bar to bits and racked up a nine-million-credit debt. Then publicly snuggled up to a total stranger…” Laiyi recounted with a grin.
Chi Zhan had held his tongue up until now, but that last line made him snap.
“I had legitimate business, Your Highness.”
“Oh? What kind of legitimate business?” Zhou Yanxing asked coolly, holding a debt slip as long as a film reel in one hand while pulling off his mask with the other. He tossed it onto the table, eyes lifting to pin Chi Zhan with a frosty glare. “Or should I ask—Secretary Chi Zhan, were you planning to take office with a record of assaulting a military officer and owing nine million credits?”
Chi Zhan closed his eyes, offering no reply. Only two words echoed in his mind:
Fucking hell.
If he still didn’t understand the System’s intentions, he’d have to be a complete idiot.
From the start, every mission had followed a clear pattern—pushing him closer to the Crown Prince, drawing them into proximity, and ultimately… preparing for an assassination.
And now, just as he’d stirred up a scene at the bar, the Prince had shown up almost instantly.
Either someone had been tailing him, or Zhou Yanxing and Laiyi were far more familiar than they let on.
