A Real Existence

Looking at the clothes on the bed—even though they were identical to the outfits worn by Illya from the anime Fate—in terms of finer details and materials, there were still noticeable flaws.

Of course, these flaws were extremely subtle and barely visible. If one didn't specifically set out to find them, they would likely go unnoticed. Chu Lian was only able to identify the discrepancies because she had scanned them with the system, which pinpointed the issues.

Still, since she had already bought them, she couldn't just throw them away. The quality wasn't bad—just inferior compared to system-exchanged items. In comparison to normal products, they were still excellent. Yet, Chu Lian simply didn't want to wear them. In short: didn't like, didn't want, didn't care.

From her initial excitement before opening the box to her current conflicted state, Chu Lian fiddled with the outfit in her hands, unsure if she was frustrated or amused. Probably both. In the future, she could still buy such things, but they would only serve as props—reasonable cover for her cosplay photos.

Such preparation was necessary. After all, system items might be noticeably different from anything in this world. At the very least, they gave off a different feeling. The last time she wore the "Tokiwadai School Uniform" from the system, she had a strange sensation—as if her surroundings had turned slightly surreal, like she'd stepped into another dimension.

But because she had a pressing situation to deal with at the time, she didn't dwell on it. Later, she completely forgot. If not for comparing this batch of outfits with the system ones, she might not have remembered at all.

The system's explanation had been: "All items exchanged through the system are acquired through special means from their original worlds and are identical to the originals. However, since they are foreign-world items, it is normal for them to carry that world's aura. The feeling of disorientation the host experiences comes from a clash between the item's aura and this world's reality, causing minor informational disruption. This has no harmful effects and will resolve itself with time and integration. No need to worry."

Yes, that must be why she subconsciously avoided exchanging otherworld items from the system—it had to be that. That's the story she was sticking to.

Recalling the system's explanation, she immediately used it to justify why she had forgotten she could buy clothes from the system. Even if the reasoning was dubious—after all, how could the system overlook such a problem?

But this was as much as Chu Lian could remember. Anything deeper, she seemed to avoid thinking about entirely.

To sum it up: if she truly wanted quality items, she had to exchange them through the system. However, before showing them off, she needed to use real-world equivalents as cover.

Even if the chance of being questioned was slim, Chu Lian didn't want to risk anything. Until she became stronger, caution was paramount. Any foreseeable problems had to be preemptively handled.

Shaking her little head to clear her thoughts, she opened the exchange menu and quietly stared at her stats. In just the last half hour—despite having lost 500,000 Integrity Points due to the system—her total had already risen from 480,000 back to just over 500,000. This made her feel all sorts of conflicted.

"Should I delete that first video? I lost so much integrity from it. If I keep going like this, won't I end up completely shameless? My integrity is worth a lot, you know! One point equals one Huaxia yuan!" Chu Lian stared at the system screen in silence for a long while before blurting this out.

"If the host wishes to delete the first video, 5 million Integrity Points will be deducted. Insufficient points may result in debt, with 1% daily interest until fully repaid. Would the host like to delete the first video: 'Glad You're A Lolicon'? Yes/No." The system really did give her a choice, but the moment she saw the 5 million-point penalty, her enthusiasm deflated.

So far, she had only accumulated about 1.3 million Integrity Points, the majority earned in the past few days. Even that wasn't enough to cover such a massive debt. Plus, this bloodsucking system had the nerve to charge 1% daily interest? It was basically a monopoly's dream scam!

She could imagine the outcome: if she really deleted the video, she'd either be unable to exchange anything with Integrity Points for years—or she'd have to post an even more shameless video to earn the points quickly and pay it off in one go.

And then, she'd end up right back at a worse starting point...

After thinking it through, she decided it just wasn't worth it and firmly selected "No."

"Host intentionally mocked the system. Penalty: 30,000 Integrity Points deducted. Your Integrity may be valuable, but so is the system's! Please don't ask such idiotic questions again, flat-chested host. (lol)"

(Lol) your sister! You're the one who's flat! Your whole family's flat! Who's the idiot? You're the idiot! Your whole family's idiotic! Who has the mood to tease you?! It was just a question—why such a heavy penalty?! You're obviously just greedy! You bastard…

Seeing the system respond like that for the first time, Chu Lian immediately lost it. If she could get her hands on the system's virtual avatar, there'd definitely be a full-blown R-18 scene right now.

After venting for a bit, she opened the Integrity Point exchange menu again to try and exchange something—only to be met with a virtual pop-up: "System is upgrading. Remaining upgrade time: 23 hours 25 minutes 42 seconds. During this period, all services are unavailable except reward claims and inquiries."

Quietly closing the system, Chu Lian walked over to the window and looked at the blazing sun in the sky. She sighed and said, "What a nice day. The sun's so bright—I'm not going out. Breakfast first, then computer time."

Speaking of food, she didn't know why, but even though her post-task condition usually required tons of food to replenish energy, today she didn't feel hungry at all. Her fatigue was gone too—like her body had been cleansed by some kind of mysterious energy.

This wasn't the first time she felt that way—but it was the first time the sensation had been this strong.

"Maybe I was just really tired yesterday, which made today feel even more relaxing. Turns out pushing myself a bit isn't so bad. Whether it's the system or the mysterious energy constantly healing me, they're clearly restoring my body pretty well." Of course, this was just her complaining—there was no way she'd actually go through something like yesterday again.

Once her body matured and she gained more strength, she wouldn't need to worry about being worn out by physically and mentally draining tasks.

Picking up the cup on the table, she realized it no longer felt warm—just in the few minutes she had been distracted, the milk had returned to room temperature. It would need reheating.

But before that, she decided to wash up first. She had rushed out earlier without even freshening up. Luckily, no one had recognized her—otherwise, she'd have died of embarrassment.

She didn't know that while Su Li hadn't paid her much attention, he had still glanced at her a few times. After Qing Yun drove off, he had even belatedly recognized her identity.

That would later set the stage for what happened the next time Chu Lian met those delivery guys.

Wearing her silver-white slippers, she walked into the bathroom and began washing up. As clear water ran down her face, she opened her eyes and stared at the reflection in the mirror—for the first time, she truly felt how real this world was.

"Wait for me, Chu Lian. I will find you. Didn't you say we'd meet again? I promise—I will..." She gently touched the mirror, her voice a soft murmur.

And after she finished speaking, when she blinked—her reflection in the mirror didn't mimic her movement. Instead, it looked at her gently, smiled... and vanished, returning to a normal reflection.

"Oh? So you appeared. I can sense your presence. But why won't you meet me face to face?" That reflection wouldn't know—Chu Lian had already sensed her existence.

After washing up, she returned to her room, picked up the cup, and headed downstairs.

She ignored Tina's pitiful meow cries; ignored her mom's soft, adoring smile as she looked at Tina; ignored Tina sitting at the table, surrounded by a feast yet too scared to eat; ignored her mom's gleeful expression as she tried feeding Tina.

Chu Lian walked past the one-human-one-cat scene like nothing was happening.

She was just here to reheat her milk. Whatever they wanted to do—let them do it. She definitely wasn't going to interfere when her mom was in a playful mood. The consequences could be terrifying.

Just ask her dad—who once got punished by being docked three months' salary, and aside from meals at home and business dinners, wasn't allowed to eat anything else.

...Okay, fine, she admitted that had been her fault. She totally ratted him out when she was sulking...