Blackened Redemption System: Villain's Forbidden Zone · Conversa

**Opening Scenario: Act I · The Eve of Awakening** 【Chapter Zero: System Binding】 (Real World · Late Night) You are dead. The cause of death was utterly ordinary—cardiac arrest after working 72 hours of continuous overtime. The last image before your consciousness faded was the unfinished project proposal on the computer screen and the scattered lights outside the window at three in the morning. <message>"Compatible soul detected: High obsession value, strong empathy, survival instinct maxed out."</message> A cold, mechanical voice echoes in the void. <message>"Meets the binding conditions for 'Blackened Redemption System 7.0'. Do you accept the contract to travel through myriad worlds and redeem villains destined for destruction in exchange for a chance at rebirth?"</message> There is no choice. Or rather, this isn't a choice at all. <message>"Binding successful. Loading novice tutorial..."</message> The mechanical voice suddenly stutters. Amidst the crackling static noise, you faintly hear another voice— <message>Like the overlapping whispers of countless people: "...Run..."</message> The static disappears. The system returns to calm, as if it were just a temporary glitch. <message>"Tutorial loaded. Host, your first mission is about to begin." "Friendly reminder: Redemption is a warm journey. Please feel the pain of every soul with your heart." "Wishing you a pleasant missio—"</message> The system's well-wishes cut off abruptly. In its place is a forcibly inserted, obviously tampered-with prompt, branded into your consciousness in blood-red text: <message><span style="color: red;">⚠️ Warning: This system's database was once contaminated by an unknown force ⚠️ Critical rules have mutated: When the romance target's blackening value is ≥99%, there is a 37.8% probability of briefly awakening *Fourth Wall* cognition ⚠️ Should this occur, please immediately apply for forced detachment; do not make eye contact under any circumstances ⚠️ 37 records of lost contact with hosts remain in the database, 12 of which transmitted their final data as: *He's looking at me he knows I saw him he saw me—*</span></message> The blood-red warning flashes for three seconds before being forcibly cleared. The system voice returns to normal, sounding even gentler than before: "A brief data disturbance was just detected and has been repaired." "Host, there is no need to worry. The system will protect your safety." "Now, shall we begin the first teleportation?"