One might pity a venomous creature on the street while envying a wealthy man unaware of his impending bankruptcy...
Loren's expression became unreadable as she stared at the system notification and the screen floating before her:
[Congratulations, Host... Intervention successful. Count reset to zero once again... Due to the difficulty and the ambiguous penalty that was about to be imposed.]
[You have acquired a new skill: "Auto-Pilot Mode"]
[Skill Description: Temporarily grants the system control over the host's body to automatically execute tasks for 10 seconds.]
Loren was stunned for a moment, unable to believe what she was reading...
Ten seconds? It meant nothing!
What task could possibly take only ten seconds besides urinating?!
Reviewing the system's message, her hopes were dashed—she truly expected nothing from this system now...
The mention of a "hidden penalty" made her tremble and wonder: what kind could it be? Though she dreaded the answer...
"Honestly, I just wanted a peaceful life..."
Loren left, dragging her feet as she walked away.
---
But while our heroine made her way to the opening ceremony venue...
In an unknown corner,in one of the restrooms...
There was a young man with pale skin reading a magazine he'd found in the cabinet above the hanging mirrors.
"Star Qualities"
Fashion models earn so much... Looks help, so why not make the most of them?
William Caesar
What was it saying?
"Wine can't turn into water... Let's have another glass, miss..."
And so it went... Damn, harems really do attract the brave.
Here, inside his jacket, resided ninety percent of the fairer sex—the rest had turned yuri and fallen for other women.
Carefully sculpted muscles meant a perfect masterpiece for some obsessed artist.
"Just look at Zeus' shoulders, Poseidon's abs, and Hades' mystique... You're shining, dude, you know?"
---
Two years ago, Milosh had been deeply immersed in his emotional struggles—an average, unattractive young man... "The gym isn't enough; you need a shortcut."
"They say injections make muscles glow and swell like watermelons!"
Because of his emotional instability, he failed his first year of university and had to transfer to a less demanding program.
But due to his unresolved mental state...
He could only waste another year doing nothing.
And when he tried to compensate by going to bars...
"What are you doing here? This is the women's restroom!"
He ended up vomiting in the female bathroom of the bar, crawling until a police officer helped him get home...
He also had to pay extra for breaking a few glasses on his way out.
After another wasted year, he decided not to give up and start over—dreaming of entering a top-tier university, paying whatever it took...
Working jobs beyond his capacity, and leaving all pettiness behind.
"You're saying that to succeed, I have to enroll in your course? Is shaving my head part of the ritual? What about a strong jawline and chest muscles? Is success impossible without them?"
After moving into the student dorm at this new university... he never wanted to interact with anyone.
But because he couldn't bear being alone, he met his roommate—Loren.
With shared interests and a quickly growing friendship...
Loren told him about the novel he was writing and advised Milosh to read it to support him as a friend.
A year later, it turned out that in another dimension, beauty existed far beyond three-dimensional women!
Before he knew it, this fool rushed to his death alongside his roommate—all for a fictional character—only to wake up here in another bed, surrounded by a strange group of men and sweat in a single room.
Due to his obsessive familiarity with online novels... he realized: This body isn't mine, this place isn't where I belong... and the memories, along with my death before waking up, mean...
Transmigration.
He quickly grasped the situation and tried to figure out who he was at first.
As he walked slowly, his mind foggy with a slight headache...
He found a mirror in one corner of the room.
But it was just a framed photo of one of the men in the room.
He searched again and found some water, which cleared his face a bit and helped him wake up fully.
"Unbelievable... It's the royal flush... the high hand."
The face reflected was flawlessly handsome—the ideal model of a charming protagonist.
William Caesar... the hero.
---
An hour before Milosh died, he decided to share the story with a relative back in his hometown.
He told her it was a web novel like no other—and that the author was his friend...
But he was shocked when he opened it to the latest chapter, where Eleanor had been killed off after protecting the protagonist.
The girl's heart broke when she saw Eleanor suddenly killed like that.
"Without a proper goodbye... without any meaning..."
He decided to punish that bastard named Loren.
He took the nearest bus without even saying goodbye to his family...
Entered the university dorm...
And died like a fool.
---
But what mattered now?
"I'll keep this with me..."
He grabbed the magazine, tucked it into his jacket, approached the nearby fruits, and deliberately stained his clothes with them.
Then he ran back toward the academy building, heading to the large plaza for the headmistress's speech.
"He might barely make it in time."
---
[System Update.... Soulmate System Activated.]
[You have approached the primary target (Eleanor Matheoth).]
[Facial recognition successful... Favorability Points: -00-]
[Main Mission Updated: Surpass My Expectations.]
[Attempt to start a conversation with the target.... Reward upon completion: 100 Points.]
"No need—I was already planning to."
His feet were already carrying him forward.
He had received the system ten days ago—it asked him to choose a soulmate to bond with.
He had already chosen his beloved: Eleanor.
The closer he grew to her, the more he would regain the lost powers of William Caesar that had faded when his soul transmigrated into this body.
---
On the other side of the venue, Eleanor arrived and dismissed her skills, de-summoning the tiny magical sprites.
[Solo Female Hero System: Increase your affinity with the protagonist... Sit in the seat closest to him. Mission reward: 20 points. Penalty: Wearing system-specially designed lace underwear.]
Loren understood the system's objective clearly. However, the seat where the protagonist was supposed to sit—the one she knew from the novel—was now completely dismantled. Anyone sitting on it would face embarrassment when it inevitably collapsed.
The best option was to wait for him to arrive and sit first.
Once the seat broke and he fell, he would have no choice but to move to another spot. After that, she could calmly take the seat behind him.
It was all a matter of patience and timing.
She remained standing near the seating area, eyes fixed on the entrance, waiting for the moment he would appear.
Her expression was calm, but her mind was racing, calculating every possible outcome. The system's penalty was humiliating, but public failure was worse.
She would let him take the fall—literally—and then step smoothly into her role.
She simply assumed the protagonist would follow the script exactly.
What other choice did he have?
So what if one chair broke—or even four?
Though Eleanor was certain the headmistress and teachers would identify the culprit immediately—whether by residual mana or simple deduction—intervening now was pointless. Only one minute remained before the headmistress's appearance, and nearly everyone was already seated, except for a few stragglers.
Eleanor waited impatiently as time ticked away.
"At this rate, I won't even find a seat…"
"Damn it, where is that idiot? Is he really going to leave me standing here until the end?!"
She immediately stilled the moment she spotted him—striding dramatically into the hall, slightly out of breath, dragging his feet as if he'd just finished a sprint.
A few beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.
When he scanned the room for a seat, he immediately remembered his plan: to sit beside Eleanor and attempt a conversation.
His eyes found her standing near the stairs, watching him.
He looked back.
In that moment, the two stared at each other with mutual confusion—each waiting for the other to make the first move and take a seat.
"What's going on here?"
Just as they exchanged bewildered glances, the doors closed firmly.
And yet… both remained standing, each silently demanding the other sit first.