System: "Congratulations, Host! Successful subjugation of Copper King achieved. Please select your desired reward."
Fyren lounged on the sofa in his expansive bathroom suite, swirling a glass of wine with palpable satisfaction.
"Let's hear them."
"Oh-ho! The Host seems in remarkably good spirits lately - no more complaints I see!"
Fyren smirked. "I'll admit to feeling rather pleased with myself. Otto - what kind of male lead is this? Always losing to me! The author must have an exceptionally simple mind to create such idiotic characters."
"He constructs plots relying on his 'God' persona controlling this fictional world, making his protagonist invincible."
"In any truly unregulated, organically developing world, he'd have died a hundred times over. Even without me, others would've finished him."
System: "Host, don't get overconfident! He's the Child of Fate!"
"Enough chatter. My rewards?"
"First option: Upgrade one segment of Great Sage's Tiger-Subduing Fist."
"Second: Upgrade Host's rank tier."
"Third: One-time experience voucher for Great Solar Buddha's Palm Strike."
"Fourth: One-time experience voucher for Acala Divine Technique."
"Additionally, successfully capturing female lead Chloe grants physical enhancement and enrollment in ancient martial arts beginner courses!"
Fyren blinked. "Capturing the heroine gives rewards too?"
System: "Naturally! We don't expect the Host to work for free! The rewards for securing the heroine would be substantially greater! Hehe, interested? Eliza already seems quite familiar with you - should be achievable!"
Fyren narrowed his eyes. "No tricks?"
System: "Rest assured, Host. This system has operated for one month adhering strictly to our philosophy: quality service at reasonable prices, honest dealings, credibility first. Our after-sales service maintains complete customer satisfaction. To date, zero complaints or returns."
Fyren stared. "One month? What's there to boast about? How many customers do you even have?"
"Just you currently."
"Just me?! Then what's with the sales pitch? And if I complain - could you even process it? You'd crash before I finished!"
"Affirmative."
"Fine, I'm complaining. You've been toying with me! How can I not complain after so many near-death experiences?"
"Complaint registered. Based on content, we will reduce actual support levels and terminate subsequent..."
"Waitwaitwait!" Fyren forced a smile. "Joking! You're wonderful - so approachable, always considering my needs. Why would I complain? I'd sooner kill myself! Surely your operation has no commercial disputes!"
System: "Host, please select your reward."
Fyren hesitated momentarily.
His first choice was to upgrade his rank.
There was no denying it - strength improvement remained an undeniable necessity in this world.
To survive until the end, he would inevitably keep clashing with the male lead Otto.
That guy could always return to the city, resurrect, purchase equipment and rejoin the battle...
He didn't get just one life before game over!
Therefore, continuous strength improvement was something he must persistently pursue long-term. This reality demanded clear recognition.
For the second option, survival skills took priority.
Fyren selected the Acala Divine Technique experience voucher again.
Self-improvement mattered greatly, but at this stage, survival trumped all else - the absolute top priority.
Death meant resetting all equipment and experience to zero. Utterly meaningless.
Hence, survival skills needed maximum accumulation. Ideally, he should stockpile such miraculous items through his own wisdom.
Frustrating!
These were excellent rewards, but single-use only. One activation and they're gone.
Rank advancement seemed almost meaningless. Whether beginner or intermediate, Central Quadportal experts viewed both with equal disdain.
Like parents scolding children - third grader or fourth grader made no difference!
You'd always just be a child.
Yet this represented long-term investment. Persistent effort might one day make him their equal - or superior.
Now with Silver King's imminent appearance, who knew what caliber of experts might come after him next?
Having made his selections, Fyren felt satisfied.
His choices seemed sound and reasonable.
"What exactly does 'physical enhancement' entail?"
"Oh, that's randomized."
"Randomized?"
Fyren grew wary. "Randomized... meaning what exactly?"
"Er... completely random."
"Is there an issue?"
"Um... no."
"Truly none?"
The system chuckled. "Even if there were, what could you possibly do about it?"
Fyren gave a wry smile. "Fair point. Then what's this ancient martial arts initiation invitation?"
"Ah! You may bestow it upon a minor character or combat pet you wish to develop, boosting their power. This creates a portable combat unit - think RPG summonable pets that fight alongside you, provide supplies and buffs."
"I see!" Fyren said. "Like in Diablo where you hire mercenaries to smash gear and assist in combat."
"Essentially, yes. But the host must personally select the recipient. Whether they betray you later or whether this investment proves worthwhile... that's your risk to bear."
Fyren understood.
The reward was valuable, but carried risks.
The chosen candidate must demonstrate absolute, unshakable loyalty.
"Understood."
...
Beep!
Fyren's body underwent transformation.
He could distinctly feel his breathing deepen and strengthen, his limbs grow more agile, his mind become significantly clearer.
The sensation was profoundly comfortable - exquisitely so.
Soaking in the marble tub, Fyren basked in contentment.
The Lower Quadportal too was divided into four tiers.
For ordinary people - the overwhelming majority - even lifelong training might never yield entry-level status without innate talent, proper mentorship, or extraordinary circumstances.
Yet now Fyren had attained that entry level.
Progressing through ancient martial arts realms demanded monumental effort and sacrifice. Each breakthrough often required serendipitous opportunities.
For many practitioners, each tier might represent their lifetime's ceiling.
The difficulty of advancement increased exponentially with each level.
Quantified numerically:
Ordinary to entry-level: effort value 10
Beginner to intermediate: at least 20
Intermediate to advanced: minimum 40
And so forth.
Each ascension grew more perilous. Many attempting the jump from Lower to Central Quadportal went mad, lost limbs, or died outright.
Yet these challenges meant nothing to him.
His advantage lay outside this system - acquiring massive power boosts through "alternative methods."
While entry-level remained insignificant to true masters, among common folk he now stood exceptional.
Body enhanced. Rank elevated. Acala Technique voucher secured.
As for that ancient martial arts initiation... who deserved it?
Later. Not now.
Fyren luxuriated in the tub, happily sipping his wine. "Magnificent!"
The bathroom door opened. Chloe entered.
Fyren turned. "Chloe? I'm bathing!"
Her cheeks flushed slightly. "I came to see if you needed anything, Fyren."
"I'm in a bathtub! What could I possibly need?"
"Well... back scrubbing perhaps... I could..."
"This tub cost over four million," Fyren said. "It has automated massage and cleaning functions. Your help isn't required. This is awkward - please leave."
"Oh."
Chloe exited, dejected.
Fyren exhaled, rubbing his arms. "Ridiculous! Barging in during my bath asking what I need? I'm naked in here! What exactly would I need from her?"
Then his hands froze mid-motion.
"Damn it! Am I an idiot? Did I just miss a golden opportunity?"
...
The luxury hotel's entrance.
Silver King's assistant stepped from the car, tossing the keys gracefully to the valet.
The valet swiftly opened the car door. Silver King emerged wearing a pinstriped suit and gold-rimmed glasses, his face adorned with a polished smile.
One had to admit - Silver King occupied a class of his own.
His substantial income granted him exceptional freedom, placing him in an entirely different stratum from Iron King and Copper King.
With an annual million-dollar salary, a five-figure wristwatch, bespoke suits, company-provided luxury vehicles, and mandatory upscale hotel accommodations during travels...
The million-dollar base pay plus bonuses positioned him comfortably among the social elite.
Each metropolitan arrival filled him with unparalleled satisfaction and exhilaration.
When he considered his branch brothers' wretched existences - their squalid living conditions, negligible promotion prospects...
By comparison, he might as well have been their deity.
Tailored suits, silk ties, chauffeured luxury cars, penthouse suites...
To outsiders, he appeared every inch the young, successful corporate executive - charismatic and distinguished.
The bellhop carried Silver King's luggage while his assistant trailed respectfully behind.
Chin raised and chest out, Silver King strode into the hotel lobby.
Inside the elevator, the assistant remained perplexed: "Elder Brother, has Copper King truly turned traitor?"
Silver King's lips curled. "Indeed. The fool squandered a promotion opportunity. Rebelling at this juncture? Even swine demonstrate greater intellect."
"But he was ever loyal before. Mere days here - how could he defect?"
Silver King turned gracefully toward his subordinate. "He had no alternative."
"No choice?"
"None." Silver King faced the elevator doors again. "He backed the wrong master and lost five billion. What other path remained?"
The assistant nodded. "Yet Copper King and Iron King committing identical errors consecutively... it reeks of conspiracy."
"Precisely." Silver King sighed. "The mission itself isn't complex, yet there's an... unsettling aura about it."
"Elder Brother, they say that five billion came from the Helmsman's... intimate dealings. Our branch coffers stand empty now."
"Enough!" Silver King snapped. "What derrière could possibly yield five billion? Only partial funds came from such... arrangements. The Helmsman possesses visionary strategic acumen! Were it not for those two fools' blundering, he'd never have resorted to... unconventional fundraising."
"Poor Helmsman must be enduring tremendous hardship lately."
"Hence we must resolve matters swiftly. Return the funds to Young Lord, execute the traitors, and let the Helmsman's... assets enjoy some well-deserved rest."
The assistant brightened. "Elder Brother, when we return victorious, might the Helmsman reward us?"
Silver King chuckled. "Foolish child."
"Hmm?"
"Mark this - the Helmsman, however capable, remains equivalent to a county magistrate. Young Lord? The vice premier's progeny. Whose patronage offers brighter prospects?"
The assistant's eyes sparkled. "The vice premier's son, undoubtedly! Serving a magistrate, when his funds deplete, he'd force us into similar... entrepreneurial endeavors!"
"Cease this vulgar talk!" Silver King scowled. "Regardless, success here may secure us positions serving Young Lord directly."
"Leaving the branch?"
"Not leaving - ascending. A meteoric promotion. The opportunity of a lifetime."
"Elder Brother, I understand now!" The assistant's eyes shone like constellations.
...
Meanwhile, submerged in his bathtub, Fyren embraced the beauty, both fully immersed beneath the water's shimmering surface.