Chapter 48: The new host, Lorcan.

System 016 floated in the central management hall with a sorrowful look on its face.

Sixty points. It must be in last place.

Sure enough, the mainframe turned to 016 and sighed. "Little Six, this was your first task, and it wasn’t even that hard. How did it end up like this?"

016: "QAQ"

It typed a crying face on its screen and couldn’t help whimpering.

"Mainframe, I swear I did the task seriously, but my last host was just impossible! QAQ"

The last host, Cian Fitzgerald, thought in a totally unusual way. He was brilliant at just scraping by and giving things lip service. The system was already grateful that he got 60.

The mainframe sighed again. "Our duty is to keep the small worlds running normally. Sixty points... well, it just about works. But I hope Little Six does better next time."

016: "I will. But could you give me a reliable host? Ideally one whose personality is close to the original lead of the novel."

Cian’s personality had been the complete opposite of the original lead’s, and the results had been wildly different. But if the host’s personality was similar, there wouldn’t be any problems, right?

After this hard lesson, 016 had grown up. It understood that, as a rookie system, it couldn’t turn things around alone and had to rely on the right host.

The mainframe thought briefly and agreed. "I’ll pull out keywords for you and open the matching system."

They went quiet as countless lines of text flashed across the cyan screen and turned into a complex stream of data. The supercomputer sorted and organised it all.

In just thirty seconds, the original novel had been completely taken apart.

It was a sci-fi novel about the Zerg. The lead was Oisín Collins, a promising major general of the Third Army and the named heir of the Collins Family. Legend said his silver hair was more enchanting than pure white irises, and in private he was known as the "Pure White Iris Major General."

At the start of the novel, Oisín was framed by the nobles and thrown in prison, about to be exiled. As execution day got closer, Oisín had only two options: accept the punishment without a fight, or win the favour of a prince of the royal family, become his consort, and be released. That would spare him the punishment, but he would lose all his freedom afterward.

Oisín had unfinished business, so he chose the second option.

At that time the royal family had three princes. The first and second princes were known for their cruelty. The third prince had just come of age, was in poor health, and lived quietly, and nothing was known about him.

Oisín decided to gamble. He chose the Third Prince of the Empire, set up a romantic meeting, offered the wealth of the Collins Family, and asked the Third Prince to marry him.

But as the lead of a tragic novel, he lost the bet. The Third Prince, Fionn, was fickle, selfish, and moody. After leaving a deep mark on Oisín, he used pheromone suppression to strip the Collins Family of its wealth, played with Oisín’s old friends and relatives, then lost interest, kicked him aside, refused to comfort him, and coldly watched Oisín struggle with the pain of the pheromones without being moved.

Oisín then injected a serum, paying with heart-wrenching pain every month, and sealed off the effect of pheromones completely. He eventually died on the battlefield of an expedition.

After losing the support of the Collins Family, Fionn died in a power struggle.

It seemed to be a story of revenge.

016 thought it over. "In short, Fionn is fickle, selfish, and moody, right? How am I supposed to find a host like that?"

It was quite rare to find all three bad traits in one person.

The mainframe’s screen flickered. "I can try matching one for you."

A huge stream of data ran through the mainframe, and after a moment the screen froze and an electronic voice said, "Found."

"Host 184347, fickle and promiscuous. According to the records, he has 338 lovers at the same time, and each of them lovingly calls him ’partner’ or ’baby.’"

016’s eyes lit up at once. "Three hundred and thirty-eight lovers! So fickle! So unfaithful! I love it!"

"At the same time, he is selfish and cold-hearted. According to the records, his 338 lovers have spent a total of 47,830 euro on gifts for him, and he has not given a single gift back."

Not even one! So selfish! I love it!

"Next, he loves giving the cold shoulder. His favourite lines to his lovers are ’go away’ and ’no.’"

So icy! So heartless! I love it!

"Finally, he runs hot and cold. He often says thank you one moment and tells someone to go away the next."

So moody! I love it!

What a hand-picked jerk! Wasn’t he a perfect match for the novel’s Fionn?

"Most important of all, he just died from staying up too late, so you can pair up with him right now."

What a perfect host, fallen from heaven!

The system didn’t hesitate. "It’s him! Please send me his details!"

*

In Garden Court, Cork, twenty minutes earlier.

Lorcan Hayes sent a "going live" emoji to the group chat, and the little group of 338 people instantly lit up.

"Partner, how long are you streaming tonight?"

Lorcan sighed seriously. "Nine o’clock. Don’t call me baby."

"Okay, baby. Are you streaming a horror game tonight?"

Lorcan sighed. "Not horror games. I told you, I’m afraid of ghosts and the dark. And don’t call me wife, I’m a total top!"

"A total top can still be a baby."

"...Just go away."

"What about partner instead of partner?"

"...Absolutely not."

In just a few lines, he had already said three "no"s and one "go away."

After finishing the chat in the group, Lorcan smoothly opened the streaming platform and picked a shooter called Star Warfare. He was a low-key streamer who never showed his face, only his hands. His gameplay was flawless, with clean headshots and smooth reloads. Watching him was like watching a film, with almost no wasted shots or moves, and it had earned him the nickname "the most watchable Star Warfare player."

Lorcan had a lovely voice and attractive hands. Fans who knew him liked to call him wife, however much he protested. Even after he put "total top" on his profile, they got even more excited.

At that moment, a gift popped up on the screen, and Lorcan said, "Thank you to ’Lorcan, why not try being a bottom’ for the luxury yacht..."

After reading the name, he visibly twitched. "Go away!"

It was a bit embarrassing to admit. Lorcan said he was a total top and was sure in his heart he would never be a bottom. But he had such a delicate face and such a polite personality that even if he sat in a gay bar with a ten-to-one ratio of tops to bottoms, the people who came to flirt with him were always the same type.

Whenever a muscular guy sat beside him and whistled at his backside, Lorcan wanted to die.

What was even worse was that all of Lorcan’s friends, gay or straight, had found partners one after another, leaving Lorcan alone. While others enjoyed sweet moments and posted photos online to show off, Lorcan could only go home and stream games. Now, every time he went to church to pray, he asked the saints, "Please give me a sweet romance!"

When would he finally have a sweet romance with someone who matched?

Other people might not care, but Lorcan’s fans loved teasing him, and silly nicknames like "When will you bottom?" flew across the screen. Lorcan was speechless and helpless, so he just let his fans have their way.

After reading out the list of people who had sent gifts, he started the game.

Today’s mission was to go deep into the bug nest. Lorcan picked a small-calibre pistol and crept through the dark, deep underground, nerves on edge. The deeper he went, the darker it got, and countless raspy rustling sounds echoed all around. But Lorcan was a seasoned player and stayed calm, and he quickly found the mission target.

He hid behind a big rock, attached a scope, and was about to aim and fire when a sudden sharp pain shot through his chest. His heart started racing for no reason, and he felt so dizzy that he could hardly see the screen.

His vision slowly blurred, and the computer screen shrank to a tiny blue dot. Then everything went black, and he knew nothing more.

In a daze, a voice seemed to whisper in his ears.

"Welcome, host Lorcan Hayes, to the binding with this system. This system is an NPC role-playing system for tragic lead stories. You will play the part of the flirtatious, aloof Third Prince Fionn from the novel Lost Stars. Please study the character’s personality carefully and fulfil the novel’s plot. When your role-playing score reaches 60%, you will be rewarded with a chance at rebirth..."

Amid the eerie mechanical voice, Lorcan’s head throbbed with pain. He groggily opened his eyes and caught sight of silky silver hair, shining with a bright gloss. Lorcan reached out, and the long hair slipped through his fingers, cool to the touch.

"Uh..."

A sound came, and then his fingertips touched warm skin.

Lorcan was suddenly startled.

He was holding someone in his arms, a strikingly handsome man.

Beneath them was an overly soft bed, bigger than any Lorcan had ever seen, large enough for seven or eight people to lie on, like the bed of a CEO or young master in a classic romance novel. White curtains hung around the bed, and the room was far too big, with a ceiling ten metres high, a size no modern builder would ever use.

...A dream?

Lorcan reached out and brushed the silver hair back from the man’s forehead, then took a light breath. The face under the silver hair seemed to have grown to match his tastes, with azure eyes like the sky and sea. The forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat, and even the lifted neck was incredibly beautiful. The body was also exactly in Lorcan’s ideal range, with well-defined chest and stomach muscles and smooth, beautiful calves, like a carefully crafted doll.

Lorcan thought, Did the saints find my wish too hard to grant, and just pick a dream lover for me in my dream?

With this face, this body, this beautiful waist and these calf muscles, and he was still a zero?

He still wasn’t fully awake, but the silver-haired beauty smiled softly. He leaned close to Lorcan and said in a hoarse voice, "Your Highness, are you satisfied with what I have done?"

’Your Highness?’

Role-playing? Did this dream come with a script?

Seeing his silence, Oisín’s expression cooled slightly. But thinking of his family and his career, he pushed down his discomfort and rolled off the bed onto the floor.

"Your Highness," he said, placing one hand on his chest and kneeling on one knee in a proper knight’s salute, dignified and elegant. "Please allow me to offer the wealth of the Collins Family in exchange for the chance to stay by your side."

Where Lorcan couldn’t see, his smile faded completely, his face went blank, and a bitter smile touched his lips.

Everyone knew that men were fickle and unfaithful, and there was no such thing as staying by someone’s side forever. Once he was deeply marked and their pheromones were tangled together, Oisín knew exactly what his fate would be, and he was ready to face it.

At this point, he had no other choice.