"How can I trust you? How do I know you’re not lying to ?"
’I know you don’t believe — and I don’t expect you to. Hearing about your death when you’re clearly alive, even if it’s in another world, is not sothing anyone would accept easily. So I understand. You don’t have to believe ... but you do need to accept that this is your second chance, and that you did die in your previous world. You can never go back.’
"Second chance?"
Lavayla laughed, humorless and shaky. "If it’s really my second chance at life, then why wasn’t I reborn? Why did I transmigrate with my exact body — the sa body I died in? Your explanation isn’t convincing."
The system made a sound very much like an exasperated sigh.
’I know... I had the sa question when the main system assigned to you, but I didn’t get a response. So it’s not just you. And also, because I am your assigned system, we share a type of internal link. A resonance. If I lie, you will know — because my words will not match my frequency.’
Lavayla frowned. "Your what?"
’My internal frequency. When systems lie, the connection distorts. Hosts feel it as a kind of static in their mind, like a mismatch. You’d sense it imdiately.’
Lavayla didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Just as the system prepared to ramble again, she spoke. "Alright, let’s leave that for now. What type of system are you? You seem very human-like."
’Like I told you earlier, I’m the Wild Genesis System — one of the second-tier sub-systems under the Genesis Main System.’
It continued, its voice taking on a more formal tone, like reciting a rulebook it didn’t like but had morized anyway.
’We are classified but also assigned randomly to different hosts depending on the level of rging. Our job is to help the hosts in their new world — whether they are reborn or transmigrated — to adapt, survive, and thrive. anwhile, when we fulfill our role, we leave the hosts, and the energy created from improving their life or improving the world they land in becos our sustenance. That energy is what makes us sentient — it’s what keeps us "alive."’
Lavayla tilted her head. "And the main system?"
’Well, the main system gets the most energy, considering it has thousands of systems under its command. Its job is to keep us functioning, so it consus the most and receives the most.’
"So you’re like... cosmic workers? Interdinsional civil servants with eternal contracts?"
The system made a laughing sound.
’Yes, host~ sothing like that. Sotis we work so hard, but the end result still isn’t favorable. So hosts never get saved in ti. Sotis the world is already beyond repair. And sotis... missions fail before they even start.’
The tone dimd, softening at the edges.
’It’s not easy for us either.’
Lavayla shrugged. "It’s not easy for anyone. So what do you do exactly?"
The system perked right back up. ’? Oh, well, as my na suggests — every world I get assigned to with my host is always a of dangerous world. Okay, let just say it plainly: fantasy. A fantasy world where the host goes through all sorts of dangerous things to survive. The most important thing about my system is survival — surviving in a brutal world. I help my hosts survive, live comfortably, and thrive. Not just them, but also their surroundings, which is the world they land in. And that’s what we’re going to do with you.’
It paused, then added with a suspicious amount of enthusiasm:
’Tell , host, what do you think about becoming the highest being in this primitive beast world — where they have no concept of bathing regularly, eating properly cooked food, or building warm, insulated houses to live in, hm?’
Lavayla froze. "...Wait, what? You said primitive just now."
’Yes, Host~! You transmigrated to a primitive beast world. I think they’re in the Stone Age. Yes, they’re in the Stone Age. So our mission now is to—’
"Wait. Wait. Primitive... Beast world?" Her voice climbed an octave. "Like... the Stone Age? No, wait. Wait. You’re kidding , right? You’ve— You’re fucking kidding , right?"
’Of course not, host! What happened? Is sothing wrong?’
"Is sothing wrong? Are you really asking if sothing is wrong?" Her tone cracked — sowhere between a scream, a laugh. "Of course sothing is wrong! Out of all the options in fantasy worlds, your stupid main system chose to send to a primitive beast world?! Oh my god."
She clutched the baby a little tighter, almost as if he might float away with her sanity. Her eyes widened as the reality hit her like a stone slab to the face.
"No running water. No real food. No hygiene. No shelter. No technology. No proper clothing. No—" she gasped, horrified, "—no plumbing?!"
’Host... breathe...’
"Breathe? You want to breathe?" She pointed at the sky with a shaking hand. "Does your main system have beef with ? Why not a cultivation world? Why not a romance fantasy? Why not a cool apocalypse sci-fi where at least I could get a gun?! Why this?!"
The system hesitated — the kind of hesitation that ant it absolutely had an answer she wouldn’t like.
’...Because your soul compatibility matched this world at a 98% rate.’
Lavayla blinked. Then blinked again. "W-what... what did you say?"
The system kept quiet and Lavayla continued.
"Oh. So I’m compatible with dirt floors, caven, oversized death-animals, and living worse than a National Geographic docuntary? Amazing. Fantastic. I love it here."
’Host... it’s not that bad—’
"It is that bad!"
The baby in her arms gave a tiny hiccuping whine, startled by her volu.
Lavayla shut her mouth instantly.
Her breath wobbled as she looked down at him. His eyelids fluttered, his little fingers curled into her pajama top. She didn’t know why but just staring at the baby made all her anger and frustration lesson and she looked at him more.
Lavayla sighed and rocked him gently, swallowing the complaints. The baby blinked sleepily, his small hand curling and uncurling against her chest.
Seeing that herhost had finally quieted down, the system seized its chance.
’Besides, host, the Stone Age isn’t that bad! Think about it — big animals, big plants, big resources, big opportunities! Everything is bigger and stronger here. Even the people! And you will one day beco the highest being in this world, so tell ... don’t the pros outweigh the cons?’
Lavayla gave the system a flat, exhausted stare. "I don’t see any pros. All I’m seeing is cons. I’m in a world where people probably think fire is peak technology. I haven’t had a shower. I haven’t brushed my teeth. I nearly got eaten by a python the size of three buses! So what exactly are the advantages?"
The system perked up as if it had been waiting for her to ask that question.
’Ohhh, host, I’m so glad you asked~!’
Lavayla pinched the bridge of her nose. "I didn’t ask because I wanted to. I asked because if I don’t find sothing hopeful to latch onto in the next ten seconds, I might actually cry for the second ti in thirty minutes."
’Then let enlighten you!’ the system said proudly. ’Advantage number one: Humans in this world are extrely rare. As in— you’re basically a mythical creature. A shiny collectible. The locals have barely seen one before, and definitely not soone like you.’
Lavayla blinked. "That’s... not an advantage. That’s how people end up on altars."
’Ah— well... moving on! Advantage number two: Your body is basically a flawless template. Humans here are born with much lower physical limits than beastn, but you have sothing they don’t — extrely high spiritual potential. Now that you’ve transmigrated, your soul energy is practically overflowing. Once you start cultivating this world’s energy, host, your growth curve will shoot straight up like a cheated mobile ga character!’
Reviews
All reviews (0)