An Han’s system was infuriatingly unpredictable—sometimes popping up three times a day, other times vanishing completely for hours.
It couldn’t be summoned by voice or displayed mentally. It only appeared when *it* felt like it.
Not smart at all.
He’d been counting on it for more attribute points, but for two whole days? Nothing.
At noon, An Han stood before the wardrobe mirror, frowning at his reflection.
The physique attribute had erased his frailty, yet left him oddly soft—likely fat added without muscle, making him slightly pudgy.
Maybe a few more points would fix it. Pudgy still beat frail, right?
At least he’d take two extra punches before going down.
Worse, the chest pain had worsened. No healing in two days. Even in a short sleeve, his nipples were faintly visible—a detail that stirred quiet dread.
Was the physique attribute… steering him toward a feminine frame?
The thought surfaced often. He had no solution. Only forced optimism to shove it aside.
“Tonight’s the meet with Long Xing.”
Two days of falsetto practice: zero progress. Female pitch still sounded weak, breathy, painfully forced.
And still—no girl had approached him.
The system promised +10 goodwill from *anyone*, plus his charm stat. Not one glance? That made zero sense.
Unless goodwill started at three digits…
“An Han, come on a date with me tonight?” Long Xing sidled up, flaunting his sculpted chest in the mirror.
*Date?!* Online said *meet*, not date!
An Han shot a slightly envious glance at those pecs.
*Someday mine’ll be bigger.*
“What if I wear just a tank top? Show off my physique?”
“You’ll scare her.”
“Tight short sleeve?”
“You’ll attract the wrong attention.” An Han shot it down flat.
Long Xing didn’t care. Lost in bliss, he beamed a foolishly happy smile.
An Han caught a glimpse—and broke out in goosebumps, utterly disgusted.
*All he’s imagining is me in a dress.*
*Tonight. Ends. Tonight.*
He shot Long Xing a fierce glare and strode out of the dorm.
No afternoon classes. Time to prep the outfit.
Too bad he couldn’t do makeup.
“Next time a skill quest pops up… I’ll think twice,” he muttered.
At the dorm lobby, he glanced around, then jogged to the nearby package pickup station.
“Boss, the morning parcel hasn’t shipped yet?”
“Yeah. Canceling that one.”
He’d dropped off the women’s clothes earlier—ostensibly to mail, really to stash.
Roommates rarely left. Walking out with a dress under their eyes? Suspicion guaranteed.
Wu Dongming? Skilled at everything *except* discretion. Untrustworthy.
Bag retrieved, An Han headed off-campus.
Meeting spot: the broken streetlight on the field. But if they left that dim patch? Exposure risk spiked.
*Ugh. No makeup skills…*
He sighed—then his vision blacked out. *Thud.*
“Ow!”
Staggering back, An Han clutched his head, glaring up furiously.
“Watch it!” Su Peng groaned, snacks spilled everywhere. Seeing An Han’s teary, pained face, he softened. “You okay? Hurt?”
“Your chest! What’re you wearing?!” An Han grimaced, pointing.
Su Peng blinked. Looked down. “Muscle.”
“I’ve never seen you train!”
“Legacy gains, okay?”
An Han rubbed his own soft chest, forehead throbbing with frustration.
*Why does every random guy have better abs than me?!*
“Where you headed?” Su Peng stepped closer, offering a tissue. “Wipe your tears.”
“Like hell there are tears!”
Pain betrayed his tear ducts, but he swiped the dampness away with his sleeve, glare unbroken.
Su Peng shrugged, laughing. “You walked into *me*.”
“You couldn’t dodge?”
“Phone.”
Su Peng peered into An Han’s tote bag. An Han snapped awake, yanked the bag shut, eyes sharp with warning.
“Women’s clothes?”
“No!”
“I saw the wig.”
An Han’s face darkened—then eased slightly. *Right. He already knows.* “Just… don’t tell anyone.”
“Got it. Our secret?”
“Yes! *Only* ours!” An Han nodded firmly.
Su Peng’s eyes glinted with teasing mischief. “You into cross-dressing?”
“No! Accident! I’m just… disposing of these.”
An Han sidestepped him, head down, hurrying away in quick, small steps.
Su Peng jogged after him. “Need help?”
“Like I’d ever need *your* help!”
[Option 1: Stay silent. Refuse Su Peng’s help. Gain Transformation Magic Wand.
Option 2: Confess passionately. Ask for help. Reward: “Tea Art” Skill.
Option 3: Accept help. Reward: Random Attribute Points.]
*The system’s back?! Now?!*
An Han turned, gaze unfocused yet shimmering with sudden, fragile hope.
Su Peng’s heart skipped. *He’s looking at me like I’m his savior.* “Whatever it is—I’ll fix it!”
(An Han was just staring at the system prompt.)
“No… thanks.”
He offered Su Peng a gentle smile—a smile that sent a chill straight down his spine.
*Quest activated.*
Rewards made zero sense. “Tea Art”? Magic wand?
Refusing alone gave the best prize… which was exactly what he wanted.
But Option One *always* meant toughest challenge, richest reward…
An Han froze.
*Why would “just say no” be the hardest task?*
