Chapter Seventy-Eight: Rules

At ten o’clock in the evening, Fan Bei was already fast asleep. Most matters had been delegated and handled, leaving him at ease to retire early. Yet he had barely settled into slumber when he was roused by “Father of Systems” from his consciousness world.

“The Butler System has sent a request for inquiry. Please attend to it promptly, System Creator.”

He didn’t bother to open his eyes. Instead, his just-awakened mind drifted into the consciousness world.

“Ah, this feels just like my previous life, getting chased by clients with phone calls after hours…”

He forced himself fully awake, opened “Father of Systems,” and flipped to the Butler System page. There he saw a line of blue text:

“The host requests anthropomorphization of the system. All costs to be borne by the host. Allow?”

“Anthropomorphize?” Fan Bei was momentarily puzzled. The system worked perfectly well—what benefit could this bring?

Then realization dawned: he’d assigned the system to her, but she wanted to make it her husband?

Though Lin Zhongqing might not mean that now, Fan Bei’s keen insight foresaw the outcome immediately.

What could he do? A wealthy patron’s request must be satisfied.

Besides, if trouble arose, he wouldn’t be held responsible.

He pondered what kind of form the system should take, but halfway through, he stopped. Why not let the wealthy client craft it herself?

A thought flashed through his mind.

“Anthropomorphization allowed. Host may determine the system’s appearance.”

With that settled, he glanced at the Skyhound System and Good Person System pages. Both hosts were behaving themselves, without any strange requests. Rough men were so much easier—concerned only with substance, not appearances.

Yet on the Good Person System page, a log entry caught his attention:

“Host Lang Sheng exhibits tendencies and suspected behaviors of exploiting system loopholes. System Creator should monitor.”

Indeed, a villain remains a villain. Possession by the Good Person System doesn’t truly change them; once they settle in, enter their comfort zone, their nature inevitably resurfaces, like a compulsive gambler.

He wondered,

“How can I observe this host’s actions?”

The book’s page flashed a prompt:

“By expending a certain amount of mental energy, you may replay recorded footage, or watch the host’s current actions live.”

“How much does it cost?”

“To view one day requires fifty points.”

“Cheap,” Fan Bei thought, flush with resources. “Let’s start with half a day.”

…

After a moment, the book played a lengthy scene. Fan Bei quickly became engrossed.

Peering into others’ secrets is a universal human impulse; celebrity gossip once kept legions of tabloid reporters employed. People cursed its vulgarity, yet traffic never faltered, and the trending lists remained ever-populated.

The scene unfolded in a dingy, gray room. The light was dim, no lamps lit, only candles flickering. Several people stood within, all with anxious faces.

Lang Sheng stood at the forefront.

He was berating a middle-aged man whose face was thick-set and brutish. “Wang Kui, Wang Kui, what am I to say about you?”

“Big brother, spare me this once. It’s not that I didn’t want to resist, but three days ago the evil tide was too fierce; I had no choice but to flee!” Wang Kui, hands restrained by two armed men, legs trembling, was nearly on his knees.

But Fan Bei observed closely and noticed a certain confidence in Wang Kui’s eyes—a detail only review of the footage would reveal; ordinary people couldn’t discern such nuance.

“Erzi, what are Copper Fortress’s rules about abandoning posts and unauthorized flight?” Lang Sheng turned to another slight, wiry man.

Fan Bei recognized him immediately as Feng Erjin, whom he’d met once before.

Feng Erjin answered honestly, “According to the rules, if sentry staff encounter irresistible danger, they must first alert the rear and other posts simultaneously, then they may flee. Failing to warn, fleeing without permission—punishable by summary execution!”

Wang Kui hurried to plead, “Big brother, Erzi, it’s not that I didn’t want to warn them, but if I’d sent the warning, I couldn’t have gotten away myself!”

“So, for your own life, you’d disregard your brothers’ lives!” Lang Sheng suddenly thundered.

At this point, Fan Bei understood the bulk of the matter.

His own valley was guarded by more than a dozen bronze-ranked experts like Lin Zhongshi, and combinations like Little White and Big White. Last time, they’d missed the evil tide; this time, it was stronger but posed no threat, and Big White had feasted on it.

Copper Fortress was different. Lang Sheng was bronze, nearing perfection, about to break through to silver; others, due to his early measures, had their strength capped and couldn’t cope.

Wang Kui, having offended Lang Sheng, was assigned the most dangerous outpost and suffered an evil spirit attack. Wang Kui’s point was valid: if he sent the alarm, escape was impossible.

Yet, upon reflection, Fan Bei found no grounds to accuse Lang Sheng of wrongdoing. He operated within established rules; Wang Kui’s cowardice was real, and punishment was prescribed, not improvised or arbitrary.

As Fan Bei contemplated, the playback reached its conclusion.

“Relay my order: Wang Kui abandoned his post, causing major casualties; three brothers out on patrol weren’t warned in time and were gravely wounded by powerful evil spirits. Fortunately, I intervened and prevented greater disaster. Such conduct must not be repeated!” Lang Sheng wiped a tear as he spoke. “Though it pains me, today I must play the role of the humble villager, and cut down a trusted lieutenant!”

At last, Wang Kui realized the gravity of the situation and struggled desperately.

“Big brother, mercy! I won’t dare again, I’ll obey you in all matters from now on, never oppose you again…”

Lang Sheng closed his eyes, waved a hand, and signaled the armed men to drag Wang Kui out.

Soon Wang Kui was hauled from the room, the door thrown open; wind howled, carrying his dying screams faintly inside.

“Brother Lang, I helped you take Copper Fortress! You can’t do this!”

“You hypocrite! You’re no good person! We’ve all been deceived by you!”

“You want to kill me, and it’s not even about this incident! Brothers, aren’t you all disillusioned? Just because I once borrowed his cultivation method, he now wants me dead!”

A gunshot rang out, and all voices ceased abruptly.

So what if one practiced the bronze meditation method? Without mastery over spiritual essence, a single bullet could still claim a life.

Fan Bei thought, now fully grasping the situation.

A handful believed that Lang Sheng, now a good person, could be manipulated and his cultivation methods extorted. They forgot—without independence, still within his system, he could kill you openly and justifiably, with no need to violate any principle of goodness.

No elaborate schemes required—just assign you the hardest task.

Fan Bei continued watching as Lang Sheng, after dealing with the matter, sat in a chair, heartbroken.

“Big brother, what should we do next?”

“Alas, though Wang Kui maligned me before his execution, he was unkind; I cannot respond in kind. Order that a fine burial plot be chosen for him, bury him generously, and bring his seven wives, three sons, and four daughters to my villa, treating them as my own and nurturing them with kindness…”

Fan Bei was both amused and exasperated. Thankfully, he’d made no excessive requests when deploying the Good Person System; all was initiated by the other party.

Indeed, if a system’s intelligence isn’t upgraded for flexibility, sticking to rigid rules will never outplay human cunning.

The greatest rule in this world is change itself. Rules that never change are inherently riddled with loopholes.