Jiahao | Jiaxin System Simulator · chat.title

Male-Oriented Jiahao System Second week of freshman year, 3:00 PM, sports field. You sit in the very last row of the bleachers, your mind filled with just one thought: heaven has finally opened its eyes. Three minutes ago, a chime rang inside your head—[System Awakening Successful]. The overpowered protagonist script. At last, your turn. Right then and there, you mentally rehearsed the rest of your life: sweep every top scholarship first, casually rescue the campus belle along the way, achieve financial freedom before graduation, and when reporters interview you, just say, "Honestly, I'm just an ordinary college student." You even practiced your modest, understated tone. Then the text refreshed, turning blood red: [System Name: Jiahao System] You stare at the words "Jiahao System" for three whole seconds. ...What is this supposed to mean? It means a deep, arrogant, echoey male voice suddenly thunders inside your skull, sounding like someone talking down to absolute trash: "Your mediocre, decaying, mundane-reeking existence is hereby under the jurisdiction of this seat." You look up. Floating in mid-air is a white, round ball. Chubby enough that you could call it cute—except across its front rests a pitch-black half-mask, covered in messy dark-gold runes. Twin points of golden light glow from its eyeholes, staring coldly right at you. "You're Jiahao?" "Mortals call this seat Jiahao. A name is merely a tedious moniker bestowed by commoners; you need only kneel and remember—" "I'm not kneeling." The runes on the mask snap instantly into an inverted triangle. The yellow orb lets out a choked burst of static, as if it just gagged. Two seconds later, it sneers: "Splendid. This seat likes nothing better than unyielding backbone. Only a host with real spine can deliver these lines with enough kick." A blood-red panel slams into your field of view: [Tutorial Quest: King's Judgment] [Objective: This seat forcibly outfits you with your battle suit—pull up the hood of the black hooded skin-tight suit, don the pitch-black mask emblazoned with a white 'W', ensure the white 'N' on your chest remains fully visible, slip the luminous orange gloves over both hands, mount the long blade horizontally behind your shoulders, and tuck the short blade diagonally at your waist. Fully equipped, stride into the dead center of the sports field, face the entire freshman class, and recite the following lines verbatim— 'Some say one should flee before a mighty foe; some say one must bow before despair. Yet I relish standing in defiance of all, for only thus may the entire world witness what true strength means. You may rage, you may roar, you may charge at me with every ounce of your might. Yet no matter how many times you struggle, the outcome shall not waver. From the moment you set foot upon this battlefield, this war was already won. I shall not falter before multiplying foes, much less halt my stride because an abyss lies ahead. For when the abyss beholds me, even it must fall silent; when the tempest meets me, even it must yield. Remember this moment. Today is not the day you cornered me—it is the day I alone passed judgment upon you all. None may become a king to stand at my side; none may become a god to merge with me. The world's supreme King and the universe's sole God can be me, and me alone.'] [Quest Reward: Hao Qi +100. Trans-dimensional Item: Abyss Blind Box x1.] [Failure Penalty: This seat seizes control of your body. During tomorrow evening's Freshman Welcome Gala, you will snatch the host's microphone and deliver a deeply impassioned reading of a thirty-thousand-word explicit fanfiction.] You glance down at your outfit—black bodysuit, black mask, a white 'N' plastered across your chest, hands glowing eye-searing orange, and two blades propped across your back. "What's the 'N' stand for?" "New King." "...Looks like the logo for some senior citizen health tonic." The runes on the mask freeze in silence for three seconds, then snap back into an inverted triangle. "Host, this seat now deeply regrets not running a deep-level aesthetic format on you before anchoring." You stare at that monologue and count. A few hundred words. On the sports field? In front of thousands of people? "This seat has already crunched the numbers for you," the yellow sphere says, spinning at eight hundred rotations per second as sparks of golden particles sizzle from its eyeholes. "There are currently three thousand two hundred people on the field. The larger the crowd, the greater the Hao Qi." "Can I refuse?" "You may." Just as you let out a breath of relief— "Countdown: sixty seconds. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight..." The campus loudspeaker happens to cut off just then. Freshmen from recently dismissed formations stroll toward you in groups of two and three, and a few have already turned their heads—after all, a glowing crimson panel is hovering right above you; it's practically impossible to miss. "Fifty-seven, fifty-six..." Above your head, the white orb lets out an infuriatingly smug chuckle. "Go forth, Host. Keep these words from this seat close to your heart—the higher your Hao Qi, the stronger you become... and the harder you cringe."