But without completing the main quest, there’s no way to gain power—the so-called “paycheck” everyone talks about.

The Supreme Deity acts like a boss: funding the System to run a project. Success means commission.

That budget? It’s the very Leyline Energy the System uses to guide the Chosen Hero’s growth and pull them from danger—aka quest rewards.

Once startup funds run dry, the System fronts the cost itself.

If the host dies mid-quest? No bonus. Total loss. Every coin sunk, gone.

Worse, the Supreme Deity links multiple Systems to transmigrators or natives’ consciousnesses, forcing brutal competition.

Only the System inside the *one* Chosen Hero who finishes the quest claims the grand prize.

Yep. The Supreme Deity is a textbook capitalist.

Yet the main quest rewards are just too tempting. Even knowing it’s a trap, the System still jumps in.

*Sigh…*

Look at Naya—tail wagging, happily playing a feeding game with Elise. Who has time to think about godhood?

Becoming a god? Less fun than playing house!

“I’m done.”

Naya stared at the empty plate.

The sweet-and-tangy pineapple pie vanished in a blink. Time really flies.

“There’s still some left.”

“Hm?”

Where? Not a single crumb remained.

Just as Naya frowned in confusion, Elise leaned in and gently kissed the tiny crumb at the corner of her mouth.

Then…

She stole the very last trace of sweetness from Naya’s lips.

Naya pushed her away, cheeks flushed with girlish shyness. Her hands pressed tightly against her knees, clutching the white lace-trimmed hem of her skirt.

“Can you *not* just kiss me out of nowhere?”

“You don’t like it?”

“I-I don’t *dislike* it…”

Naya took a slow breath.

It’s just… whenever you get close, my thoughts drift *there*.

Even after last night’s intimacy, the moment Elise nears, Naya can’t help imagining herself as a piano—

waiting for Elise to play a soft, melodious tune upon her.

How strange the Dragonkin body is.

It wasn’t like this years ago!

Back then, her body felt normal—barely any worldly urges.

Did Elise really modify her?

But Naya was too shy to ask.

What if Elise *hadn’t*? Then… she’d just be someone who *always* thinks about playing piano, right?

Yes! Exactly!

As long as I don’t ask, I can believe it was the modification. That I’m not *just* a pillow princess—sometimes acting like one is the body’s fault, not mine.

“Elise… where are you planning to travel?”

“I’ve gathered intel on several Chosen Hero treasure sites. Where they go, we follow. They find treasure—we take it.”

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong? You, who were once human… disapprove?”

“No… I finally get why humans hate you.”

Elise spoke solemnly.

“Racial hatred has no clear origin. The Chosen Heroes’ ultimate goal remains my death. This land brims with Leyline Energy. Over centuries, energy-rich zones crystallize into treasures—some hidden in perilous lairs, others deep in mountains or ocean trenches. With these, humans gain power to surpass their limits. I *must* stop it. Or Dragonkin numbers will keep falling… until we’re all gone.”

Naya swallowed hard.

Dragonkin fertility has always been low. Records show they once ruled every corner of this world. Now? Huddled in the Dragon Empire, clinging to one safe haven.

Birth rates lag far behind deaths. They can’t afford another loss.

Meanwhile, humans—these little monkeys—are like cockroaches: easy to crush alone, yet their insane reproduction swells their numbers endlessly.

Today, they’re the most populous race here.

“Can you understand my burden, Naya? I don’t wish to slaughter your kin. I have no choice. As Dragon Sovereign, if I ignore our future… the Dragon Empire may vanish in a century. Or a millennium.”

“Hmm…”

Naya nodded.

*Your kin.*

She looked at Elise, emotions tangled.

“Elise… do you see me as human?”

Elise stilled for a moment, eyes softening with quiet helplessness.

“I hope you’re not. But… what does *your* heart say? I feared calling you Dragonkin might upset you.”

Naya lowered her gaze.

If amnesia had lasted, she’d have believed herself Dragonkin forever.

But memories returned—and with them, that stubborn, cursed kinship with humanity.

“It’s okay. No need to force an answer. No rigid lines between human and Dragonkin. Just… different stands.”

Elise rose, offered her hand, and smiled gently.

“Walk with me to the garden? Just to see the flowers.”

“Mm.”

Naya placed her hand in Elise’s.

They stepped into the castle’s rear garden. A sea of blossoms stretched before her; floral sweetness filled the air, vibrant colors easing the tension from their heavy talk.

Ugh. Why dwell on racial grudges or national futures?

Why can’t the fighting just stop?

Why must Elise be the Dragon Sovereign?

Elise slipped behind her, arms circling Naya’s waist, whispering against her ear:

“Our home is beautiful… isn’t it?”

“Mm.”

Naya no longer wanted to leave.

Hearing of the world’s cruelty, she shrank from reality.

Elise’s palm rested gently on Naya’s abdomen—where a warm, wondrous life stirred.

Chin resting on Naya’s shoulder, eyes closed, she savored the fragile peace.

*Why did I call her “your kin” just now?*

Because Naya, though Dragonkin in form, kept humanity’s fertile gift. The child within proved it: conception came effortlessly—a miracle other Dragonkin might wait decades for.

Hence the human kingdoms’ mocking nickname: “lecherous dragons.” Tacked with every vile label imaginable.

But Dragonkin only seek to survive. To continue.

That gentle warmth reminded Naya of her pregnancy. She tilted her head, nuzzling Elise’s cheek.

“Oh—We still haven’t told Eliya she’ll soon have a little sister. Should we tell her now? Or wait?”

“Your call. Whenever you’re ready.”

Naya covered Elise’s hand, lips curving into a soft smile.

*Tonight. During storytime. I’ll tell her then.*