Hao Hao stared at the translucent blue screen hovering before him, the words burning into his retinas.
[MISSION START]
Target: Li Yuan (24, Former Heiress of the Li Family)
Objective: Prevent su*cide within 30 minutes.
Reward: 2 Random Traits (Rank: ???)
Failure: Target death.
His lips twisted into a grimace. Two traits? That could be good—if they weren't trash. The system had explained before that traits ranged from F (basically useless) to S (game-breaking), but the three traits he could potentially get from her were randomized in rank. If all three were F-rank, then even getting two of them would be like winning a participation trophy in a rigged race.
What a fantastic first mission, he thought, sarcasm dripping like poison. Change a suicidal woman's mind in half an hour. Easy.
He exhaled sharply, then turned his attention to the woman sitting a few feet away on the park bench.
Li Yuan was tall, elegant even in her disheveled state, her long black hair slightly tangled, her expensive coat now frayed at the edges. But her eyes—those were what caught him. Empty. Hollow. Like looking into a mirror of his past life.
A memory flashed—himself, years ago, slumped in front of a computer screen, the glow of a game reflecting in his dead eyes. His sister's voice, pleading, ignored. The slow rot of wasted potential.
I was like her.
The realization struck him like a fist to the gut.
He didn't think about tactics. Didn't strategize. Instead, he remembered the things he had wished someone had said to him back then. The words that might have pulled him out of the abyss.
With a small, gentle smile, he shifted slightly and spoke.
"Why not sit beside me, sister? There's plenty of room."
She didn't react at first. Then, slowly, as if moving through water, she slid over and sat beside him. The morning breeze carried the faint scent of her cologne—something floral, expensive, but worn like an old regret.
Hao Hao tilted his head up, watching the sunlight filter through the leaves. "Don't you think it's a beautiful morning, sister?"
Silence.
He didn't mind. He just… talked.
About nothing. About everything. The weather. The birds. The old lady selling steamed buns down the street. The way the city smelled after rain.
Because he remembered.
When the world had felt like a prison, when the weight of existing had been too much—what he had wanted most wasn't advice. Not pity. Not even solutions.
Just someone to talk to him.
Like he was still worth listening to.
+
Once, Li Yuan had everything.
A family that laughed. A mother whose hands were calloused from work but whose embrace was always warm. A father who told terrible jokes and grinned when she groaned. A little brother—Gu Gu—who, despite his frail body, always tried to carry her bags for her.
The Li family was powerful, yes. Wealthy, yes. But her mother had taught her: Wealth is a tool, not a crown. Use it to lift others, not to tower over them.
She had lived by that. Excelled in school. Befriended classmates regardless of status. Turned down arrogant suitors who saw her as a trophy.
Life was good.
Then came her brother's eighteenth birthday.
The betrayal.
Her aunt, Li Fang, had sold them out to the Song family. Insider information. Sabotaged mergers. Financial ruin. Debts piled like corpses.
Her parents, proud to the end, chose death over disgrace.
And just like that, she and Gu Gu were alone.
Months of struggle. Odd jobs. A cramped apartment in a neighborhood where the walls were thin and the nights were loud. She worked until her hands bled, until her voice grew hoarse from bargaining, until the debt was finally—finally—cleared.
She came home that day with a small cake. A celebration.
Gu Gu had been so thin. So pale.
But he had smiled.
"Jiejie… welcome back."
She had hugged him, promised him better days.
And the next morning, he was cold.
Now, there was nothing. No family. No home. No future.
Just a one-way bus ticket to nowhere and a plan to step off the edge of the world.
So why—why—was this chubby, awkward boy talking to her like she mattered?
Why did his voice, his stupid, rambling stories about nothing, make something in her chest ache?
Why… was she hesitating?
+
The wind carried the scent of salt and sun, brushing gently across the benches lining the promenade. Hao Hao had been speaking for nearly half an hour now—about the weather, the oddness of this world, the coffee shop he once visited, the dreams of a life that never began. Most would've found his words meandering and aimless. But they weren't for logic. They were for warmth.
The tall woman beside him hadn't responded. Not once. She sat there like a ghost in the morning light, eyes dull, breath slow. Still and silent, like she was already halfway gone.
Until—
"...Why are you talking to me?"
Her voice was hoarse, unused. Like a knife dulled by time, dragging itself into the air. Hao Hao paused mid-thought and turned his head, blinking.
"So, the lady speaks?" he said softly, teasing just a little.
She turned away. "Stop. Just leave me alone."
He ignored that. Her words held no bite—only emptiness. "By the way, my name's Hao Hao," he said with a calm smile, "What's yours, jie?"
She sighed. Her gaze didn't meet his. "…Li. Li Yuan."
"Li Yuan, huh?" Hao Hao repeated it thoughtfully. "Mm. It's a good name. Sounds strong, like the name of someone who stands tall even after a storm."
Li Yuan said nothing. Her shoulders tensed slightly.
Hao Hao continued, voice lowering a bit. "Jie… I once knew someone with eyes like yours."
He didn't look at her when he spoke. His gaze drifted to the sea in front of them.
"His name wasn't important. Just an ordinary guy. Smart, kind… a little too sensitive for this world. When he was younger, he wanted to do great things. Be a novelist. Travel the world. Make his family proud." Hao Hao chuckled bitterly. "But life has its own way of crushing people. One bad fall, and everything spiraled. He stopped writing. Stopped going out. Lived off someone else's kindness and hated himself for it. Eventually, even talking became too hard."
The waves rolled in quietly, as if listening.
"No one reached out to him. Or maybe someone did—but not the right way. Not in the way he needed. And by the time anyone noticed…" Hao Hao exhaled, closing his eyes. "It was already too late."
Silence.
"I should have been there for him," Hao Hao murmured, a note of grief beneath his calm tone. "I should've said something. Stayed by his side. Reminded him that being broken wasn't the end."
He turned his head now, slowly, looking at her—not with pity, but with understanding.
"What I'm trying to say is…"
Instead of finishing that sentence, he raised both hands and gently cupped the sides of her face—not harshly, not forcefully. His palms were warm, a little clammy, and trembling slightly from nervousness. But his smile was steady.
"Why so serious, jie?" he said, the corners of his lips lifting as he leaned in ever so slightly. "Smile."
The words hit like thunder in a cloudless sky.
Li Yuan's eyes widened. Her breath caught.
"Gu… Gu?" she whispered.
Her voice cracked—and then shattered completely. As if some dam within her burst, tears spilled from her eyes like rain. Her face crumpled as she choked out a sob, then another. And then, suddenly, she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him in a tight, desperate embrace.
Hao Hao stiffened. He hadn't expected her to cry like this—no, to sob like this. It wasn't graceful or quiet. It was ugly, broken, full of years of grief she hadn't let out.
His arms moved on their own. He held her, gently patting her back, saying nothing now. There was nothing more that needed to be said.
Above the roar of the ocean and her weeping, a soft system notification echoed in his ears.
[Ding—Mission Complete. Trait Sync Eligibility: Li Yuan Confirmed. Rewards Pending.]
But Hao Hao didn't respond.
Not now.
His eyes were wet too. Maybe from the wind. Maybe not.
In this world, in this moment—he wasn't Hao Hao the failure. He wasn't even Hao Hao the system host.
He was just someone… who caught a falling person.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.