Chapter 18: Thoughtful System

"Hey, you should've seen the look on those women's faces today. When I said my hands were tired, they rolled their eyes at me."

Olivia, in a great mood after being complimented by her daughter, couldn't hide her smug smile. She added, "One of them even said it was a fake. But guess what? A counter specialist just happened to be there playing cards, and they confirmed it was authentic!"

After the meal, the family basked in rare joy. It was the first time such a warm atmosphere had filled the home. Even my earlier rude behavior went unscolded—a small miracle.

It seemed to be Lily's turn to clean the table and do the dishes. However, just as she began clearing up, her phone rang.

"Mom, honey, the hospital called. They said there was a mix-up with some bills. I need to go back and sort it out. Wait for me to come back and finish the dishes, okay?"

She quickly changed clothes and rushed out. The cheerful atmosphere from moments ago vanished. As soon as Lily left, Olivia's smile disappeared too.

"Mom, I have some work to do upstairs," Ryan said, attempting a quick escape.

Olivia's face darkened, and she snapped, "Sit down!"

Ryan hesitated. Sitting down now would mean getting scolded for sure. Thinking fast, he said awkwardly, "Mom, can we talk tomorrow? I really need to finish something tonight. Besides, aren't you going to play cards later?"

Olivia glanced at the gold bracelet on her wrist, her expression softening. After a moment of hesitation, she said, "Fine. But don't think you're off the hook. Tomorrow morning, we're talking. Don't go anywhere."

"Sure!" Ryan agreed quickly and retreated to his room after a shower.

There, he rummaged through an old box, pulling out outdated laptops, hard drives, and USB sticks. Most of it was junk now, but he couldn't bring himself to throw it away.

Meanwhile, Lily had returned, and the two chatted briefly before bed.

"Honey, Mom mentioned that my eldest sister and her husband still don't have kids. She seems really worried," Lily said.

"Yeah, I've heard. Mom and Dad keep nagging them, but my sister won't explain anything, and her husband's staying quiet too," Ryan replied.

After a long day, Lily was exhausted. She kissed Ryan goodnight, feeling unusually content—over something as simple as him washing the dishes. It was a sweet, childlike happiness. Lily was the type who found joy in small gestures, whether in love or life.

Later, unable to sleep, Ryan found himself downstairs, smoking and lost in thought. The system hadn't rewarded him yet, and its delay was frustrating.

At almost eleven, a familiar voice echoed in his head:

"Ding... System Reminder: 'Dear Wife Mission' failed. Lily didnt complete the blowjob and cum-swallowing task in front of Olivia, Task have been considered a failure!"

Ryan found himself trapped in a surreal world of codes, with a massive computer screen looming in front of him.

"This is ridiculous!" Ryan shouted, clearly dissatisfied. "There was no flaw! How could it possibly fail?"

The system's cold, detached voice responded, "The mission failed because Olivia did not see the act. Your wife had her back to her, preventing Olivia from witnessing the blowjob or cum-swallowing scene. There are flaws in execution; thus, it is deemed a failure."

Ryan blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, after a moment's reflection, he sneered. "Your judgment is absurd! This is supposed to be fair, right? Shouldn't you be reasonable?"

"The system is the epitome of objectivity and fairness," the voice replied icily.

Ryan frowned deeply, his frustration mounting. "I trusted that you'd operate logically, but let's address the literal meaning here. According to the task, I followed the instructions perfectly. If there's a flaw, it's in how the mission parameters were issued—not my execution."

"Not rigorous enough?" the system echoed with calculated indifference.

"Exactly! If the mission was to involve 'giving a blowjob and swallowing cum in front of Olivia,' the requirement should explicitly state she needs to witness the act. This isn't about me failing; it's about the task being poorly designed."

Ryan leaned forward, his face tense with frustration, as he continued. "You set me up for failure by leaving out critical details. If I'd known the parameters were this strict, I would have abandoned the mission altogether."

The system fell silent, leaving Ryan in an uneasy limbo. He paced nervously, his mind racing. If he had a cigarette, he would have smoked half a pack by now.

After what felt like an eternity, the system finally spoke again. Its tone was as cold as before, but there was a hint of compromise. "Let us reach a middle ground."

Ryan's eyes narrowed, suspicious. "Middle ground? I completed the task as instructed. Why should I compromise?"

The system's voice grew even colder. "Do you wish for future tasks to become 'rigorous'? Should each mission require exact numerical precision—such as thrusting a specific number of times to ensure orgasm or increasing favorability by exact percentages?"

Ryan shuddered at the thought. The idea of hyper-precise missions felt chilling. He could already imagine the system enforcing harsh, unrelenting standards.

"Okay, okay," he said, backing down quickly. "I was wrong. I won't argue anymore. Let's move on."

The $100,000 Ryan received today played a significant role. Not only were his mother-in-law and wife thrilled by the gifts, but Ryan himself reveled in the experience of shopping as though he were a superior person. He found himself immersed in the moment, savoring the fleeting sense of power and control.

Still, the thought of a future without this newfound privilege filled him with unease. He couldn't imagine how miserable life would feel without it.

Amid these reflections, Ryan came to a realization: the beastly system wasn't just a cold, unfeeling tool. Its origin was unclear—it might have come from an advanced alien civilization, collecting data from Earth. While it behaved like an AI, its responses and behavior hinted at a deeper complexity. It might not have personal likes or dislikes, but it seemed to have thoughts and preferences. Conversations like tonight's wouldn't have been possible otherwise.

The system seemed almost alive, evolving over time. It wasn't just a tool for Ryan's use—it had its own agenda, teasing humanity with a perspective akin to god-like omniscience. Yet it relied on Ryan as much as he relied on it.

"You are the only suitable host," the system intoned. "Please do not feel any mental burden. I remind you again: genetic modification is still in progress. Please remain calm and monitor your brain activity levels carefully."

The system's prompts brought Ryan back to reality. He suddenly realized something: the system was just as uneasy as he was. Both of them were going through an adjustment period. Ryan feared losing the system's power, and the system, in turn, feared losing its host. Who knew when—or if—it would ever find another compatible host?

The room fell silent for a while. Then, the front door creaked open, and Olivia walked in after her card game.

She was in high spirits. Tonight, she'd won both games and walked away with $1,000—small bets, but the victory made her feel triumphant. However, her cheerful mood dimmed the moment she saw Ryan sitting in the living room, smoking.

In the past, Olivia would never have allowed this. But now, seeing him like this, she felt a twinge of guilt. Perhaps she'd been too harsh.

Ryan sat there, wearing only his underwear, cigarette in hand, brooding in silence. It was the first time Olivia had seen him this way. Normally, she would've scolded him, but now, she felt inexplicably worried.

Had he fought with her daughter? Or was it something else entirely? Why did this little rascal look so grim?

"Son-in-law, what's wrong with you?" she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

Ryan, momentarily distracted by the system, snapped out of his thoughts. He stopped communicating with it and turned to Olivia, annoyance flickering across his face.

Ryan had always feared his mother-in-law's fiery temper, but tonight, his irritation overshadowed his usual caution. The instability of the system had left him on edge, and he couldn't hide his annoyance.

Wearing only his underwear, he lay on the sofa in the dimly lit living room, cigarette in hand, watching Olivia. After a moment's thought, he took a deep drag and said, "I've got something to deal with, Mom. Please keep your voice down—don't disturb my wife. She has work tomorrow."

"Oh, I see!" Olivia replied curtly before retreating to her room to change.

As she slipped into more comfortable clothes, a wave of annoyance washed over her.

'Who does this little bastard think he is, acting all high and mighty tonight? After the nonsense he pulled, he still has the nerve to give me attitude? What kind of show is he trying to put on?'

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Fueled by frustration, she stormed out of her room, intending to confront him.

But as she stepped into the hallway and glanced at the living room, something stopped her. The silence was unusual—unnerving, even.

The TV was off, and her son-in-law wasn't fiddling with his phone as he normally would. He simply lay there, staring into the void, cigarette smoke curling around him.

Something about the scene made Olivia pause.

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