Ten days.
For ten whole days, the mission progress bar remained stubbornly stuck at “0%,” unmoving, like a silent mockery.
Arthur sat at his dorm desk, chin resting on his interlaced hands, his green eyes calmly watching the translucent system interface floating in the corner of his vision.
On it, the words [Main Quest (Prologue): Observer] seemed to shimmer, while the empty progress bar below looked particularly glaring.
Ten days ago, when this system calling itself “little tree” finally finished loading and issued its first mission, Arthur had scoffed at it.
Observe three new classmates?
Record abnormal behavior?
Simple.
It felt like a novice tutorial, a newbie benefit with a high reward.
He had even planned how to use the initial 5,000 yuan and the potential maximum 20,000 yuan bonus—part in fixed deposits, part as an emergency fund, and maybe even a small investment in some “side businesses” among the students at the academy.
He, Arthur, combining his past and present lives, could be considered someone who had rolled around in the mud of society; he’d seen workplace PUA, riddles from clients, and bosses’ empty promises.
Could he not handle a few teenage schoolgirls?
He was full of confidence, even feeling that this system mission was practically giving away money.
Then, reality gave him a slap, neither light nor heavy.
On the afternoon the system was successfully activated, just as he had figured out how to “naturally and unforcedly” approach Kiana’s trio again to complete the first “ten minutes of close contact” metric, a casual remark from Ms.
Himeko smashed his nascent plan to pieces.
“Ah, I almost forgot.
Class Monitor Fu Hua is back from her mission.
Perfect,” Ms.
Himeko said, tapping her forehead.
She spoke to Arthur, who had just finished his afternoon classes and was about to “pass by” Kiana’s seat, and the three new students.
“Fu Hua, you’re the class monitor and the most familiar with the academy.
Take these three new students and show them around, including the dorms and living facilities.
Arthur Le is quite busy sometimes.”
The gray-blue-haired ‘youth’ called Fu Hua had stood quietly at the classroom door at some point.
She had a straight posture, a calm temperament, and wore glasses—the image of a model honor student.
She pushed up her glasses and nodded calmly: “Yes, Ms.
Himeko.
Leave it to me.”
Kiana immediately jumped up: “Oh!
Is it the class monitor?
Great!
Sorry to trouble you!”
Raiden Mei also bowed politely: “Thank you for your help, Class Monitor Fu Hua.”
Bronya just nodded silently, her gaze imperceptibly sweeping between Arthur and Fu Hua.
The professional smile on Arthur’s face was flawless: “Yes, Ms.
Himeko, I am indeed quite busy sometimes.
Then I’ll leave it to Class Monitor Fu Hua.”
He turned and left the classroom with steady steps, his heart unruffled.
It’s fine, just a small accident.
Just showing them around.
One contact opportunity lost, but there are plenty of others.
Between classmates, asking for help with questions, borrowing notes, chance encounters at the training ground, sharing a table at the cafeteria…
there was so much room for maneuvering.
He, Arthur, lacked neither patience nor Plans B, C, D, and E.
However, over the next ten days, Arthur deeply experienced what was meant by “the malice of fate.”
On the first day, he planned to “happen upon” Kiana, who didn’t seem familiar with the academy’s layout, and offer to take her to a “snack supply point not marked on the map” (which he’d made up).
Halfway there, he was intercepted on the spot by Ms.
Himeko, who was furious because Kiana had slept through her morning theory class, and she hauled Kiana off for a lecture.
On the second day, he targeted Raiden Mei, who seemed the most approachable, and tried to create a common topic and time together under the guise of “exchanging insights on swordsmanship.”
Raiden Mei readily agreed, and they made an appointment to meet at the training ground after school.
However, that afternoon, Headmaster Theresa personally came looking for her, saying there was an inspection and providing one-on-one “special guidance,” so the appointment was naturally canceled.
On the third day, he changed his strategy and decided to start with Bronya, who seemed to have the “fewest openings.” His excuse was being “very interested in Project Bunny’s mechanical structure and wanting to ask some basic questions.”
Bronya looked at him with those gray eyes for a few seconds, nodded, and then…
pulled out a ten-centimeter-thick book titled “General Tactical Mecha Basic Theory and Engineering Principles (Volume 1)” and spoke in a flat tone.
“Start from Chapter One.
Bronya can answer questions.” Arthur stared at the dense formulas and diagrams, maintaining a stiff and polite smile for ten minutes, then retreated on the pretext of “suddenly remembering I left the stove on in my dorm.”
System judgment: Contact time 9 minutes 59 seconds, failed to reach the minimum standard for effective observation.
On the fourth day, he decided to use the most basic “cafeteria table sharing” method.
He calculated the windows they frequented and the approximate time, then walked “just in time” to their table with his tray, flashing an impeccable smile.
“Is anyone sitting here?” Kiana, her mouth stuffed with chicken nuggets, said vaguely: “Yeah, the class monitor said she’d be here in a bit.”
No sooner had she spoken than Fu Hua sat down in the empty seat with her light meal, nodding slightly to him.
“Good day, Arthur Le.”
Arthur: “…”
On the fifth day, he began to suspect if his “intent to approach” had been reverse-marked by some unseen entity.
He tried letting go completely, making no active contact.
As a result, for the whole day, Kiana was sleeping, Mei was reading quietly, and Bronya was reading manga.
Their natural distance never dropped below two meters.
The system gave no response.
From the sixth to the ninth day, he tried various direct or roundabout schemes:
Sharing drinks he “accidentally bought too many of,” only for Kiana to demonstrate on the spot what “Dragon Sucking Water” looked like.
“Accidentally” dropping a notebook with his name on it in their path, only for it to be picked up and returned by Class Monitor Fu Hua.
He even tried to create a “minor accident” needing help (pretending to twist his ankle near them), only to be caught by the passing Class Monitor Fu Hua, whose eyes seemed able to see through everything.
She “enthusiastically” sent him straight to the infirmary, resulting in zero interaction with the three targets the whole time.
Every time, it was just a little bit short.
Either there wasn’t enough time, or he was interrupted by an accident, or Class Monitor Fu Hua “happened” to appear as if guarding some kind of barrier.
Class Monitor Fu Hua, this honor student whose presence usually wasn’t particularly prominent, had become an insurmountable wall between Arthur and his three observation subjects over these ten days.
Her appearances were always so timely, reasonable, and beyond reproach.
Arthur even began to suspect if this class monitor also had a system with a mission called “Stop Arthur from approaching key targets”?
Now, it was the evening of the tenth day.
Arthur looked at the unmoving progress bar and the few cold records in the system log— “Contact failed,” “Observation interrupted,” “Standard not met”— and fell into a five-minute silence.
The professional smile on his face had long since vanished, replaced by a near-blank calmness.
But in those eyes like “Molten Green Agate,” the faint blue light of the system interface was clearly reflected, along with the small line of text at the bottom: [Time remaining until mission deadline: -2 days 23 hours 59 minutes]
Yes, the system countdown had ruthlessly entered negative numbers, but the mission didn’t show as failed; the progress was just zero.
Ten days, a full two hundred and forty hours.
He had tried no fewer than twenty schemes, mobilizing all the social and anti-social wisdom he had accumulated in his past and present lives, yet he hadn’t managed even a single “ten minutes of effective contact.”
Kiana, Raiden Mei, Bronya.
These three names on the mission list were like three unreachable luminous bodies, while he, Arthur, was like a moth fluttering around a glass jar—able to see them clearly but unable to touch them no matter what.
“Ha.”
A nearly inaudible breath escaped Arthur’s throat.
He leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes with his hand.
Frustration?
A little.
But it was more of an absurdity and a faint annoyance at being toyed with by an invisible hand.
He thought he was the chess player, using the tools provided by the system to play a guaranteed winning game in this academy.
It turned out he seemed to be the chess piece being moved by a mysterious force on the board, unable to even make a basic move.
“little tree.” He lowered his hand, his face expressionless, and calmly called the system in his mind.
[I am here, Mender Arthur.] The system’s electronic voice responded immediately.
“This mission,” Arthur pointed at the glaring “0%”.
“Are there any mission hints, location guides, or…
options to lower the difficulty?” He tried using a business-like tone.
“For example, is there a ‘Newbie Help’ function, like a one-time thing?”
[Apologies, this system currently has no such function.] little tree’s answer was rigid.
[The mission must be explored and completed by the Mender.
The system only provides basic information, records, and final settlement.]
“Explore and complete…” Arthur chewed on those words, turning his gaze out the window.
Dusk was falling, and the lights of St.
Freya Academy were coming on one by one, outlining its peaceful silhouette.
Where were those three girls right now?
What were they doing?
His previous strategy was based on the logic of “ordinary classmates” and “regular school life.” Approaching, talking, joint activities…
these normal social means.
But what if this wasn’t a “normal” mission in the first place?
What if the observation subjects themselves, or the “field” they occupied, rejected such “regular” approaches?
Or…
was the problem with himself?
Did his approach—with its clear purpose, precise calculation, and strong “KPI-driven” mindset—unintentionally trigger something or get sensed by something?
Arthur recalled Bronya accurately calling out the “social nature” of his smile the first time they met, Kiana saying he seemed “separated by a layer of glass,” and Raiden Mei’s polite but persistent distance.
They might not be direct “obstacles” like Fu Hua, but they themselves didn’t seem so easy to “be observed.”
And that omnipresent Class Monitor Fu Hua…
was it really a coincidence?
Arthur’s eyes gradually focused, a cold, almost sharp light appearing in them.
Ten days of failure weren’t worthless.
It at least ruled out many methods that “didn’t work” and made him realize that the underlying logic of this seemingly simple “observation” mission might not be simple at all.
25,000 yuan (maximum reward) was indeed tempting.
But more than that, he now wanted to understand exactly what was going on.
“Working…” Arthur murmured to himself, his lips curling into a cold arc.
“As expected, there’s no such thing as a free lunch, nor is there easy prize money.”
He stood up from his chair, walked to the window, and looked at the distant, lit-up training grounds and dorm buildings.
Conventional methods won’t work.
Then, perhaps it’s time for a different approach.
Not “Classmate Arthur” approaching “new classmates.”
But…
as an “anomaly,” to observe or even “test” other “anomalies”?
Or, jump out of the “individual contact” framework and “observe” from a more macro and indirect perspective?
His gaze shifted toward the tall Overseer’s office building in the center of the academy.
Did Headmaster Theresa…
know something?
About these “special” transfer students?
Or, maybe the true intention of the “Imaginary Tree” that issued the mission wasn’t just “observation and recording”?
[Detected an increase in Mender’s mental activity; analysis module activated.] little tree’s voice suddenly rang out.
[Based on behavioral data and feedback from the past ten days, the system has generated a non-mandatory suggestion: Sometimes, direct ‘observation’ is not the best path.]
[‘Influencing’ and ‘being influenced’ are more efficient interaction modes.
Please note that this suggestion does not guarantee success and may bring unknown variables.]
Arthur’s brow twitched slightly.
Influencing…
and being influenced?
Meaning, don’t just think about “watching,” but do something to make them react?
Or, let them do something to him?
This suggestion sounded a bit dangerous…
but…
it seemed better than having no progress and waiting for the mission to potentially fail.
He turned around, no longer looking at that glaring “0%” progress bar.
For ten days, he had tried all the “safe,” “polite,” and “reasonable” methods.
Result: No way out.
Then, perhaps it’s time to try methods that aren’t so safe, not so polite, and not even so reasonable.
For the sake of the salary…
no, to figure out what exactly is going on.
Arthur walked to the mirror and looked at the blonde-haired, green-eyed, delicately featured youth inside.
He slowly adjusted his facial muscles, letting that perfect professional smile reappear.
Only this time, the curve of that smile seemed a little less formulaic than usual, with a hint of something elusive.
“Kiana Kaslana, Raiden Mei, Bronya Zaychik…” He whispered those three names as if confirming them, or perhaps as a declaration of war.
“And…
Class Monitor Fu Hua.”
Outside the window, the night deepened quietly.
Daily life at St.
Freya Academy continued as usual, but an observer determined to “not play by the rules” was ready to step into a new, unknown territory.
And had the “butterflies” he intended to observe already sensed the subtle changes in the air?
[Day 10 Observation Log: Recording interrupted.
Mender’s behavior pattern analysis…
shows deviation from baseline fluctuations.
Observation mission entering a new phase.
System recording continues…]
The blue system interface flickered silently at the edge of Arthur’s vision.
The progress bar was still at 0, but some invisible timer might have just begun.