QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)-Chapter 116: Subtle evil plan

Chapter 116

System 404 hovered, flickering like a dim star, above the two still bodies, tangled together on the floor, soaked in red.

[MISSION COMPLETE: 60%]

[FINAL HOST TERMINATION: CONFIRMED]

[INITIATING SOUL RETRIEVAL PROTOCOL...]

The system pulsed once.

Then again.

The air around it bent unnaturally, the mana of the world groaning in protest. A portal blinked into existence mid-air—unstable and flickering, edges crackling with static like torn cloth caught between code and magic.

System 404 didn’t care. The world was shutting down. Its work here was done.

[RETRIEVING HOST SOUL...]

A soft wisp rose gently from Daphne Han’s body—pale, silver-flecked, and trembling faintly, like a candle in wind. Her soul.

The system did not hesitate. The wisp hovered briefly above her chest—then floated upward, serene, unaware, and vanished into the waiting portal with a soft shimmer.

System 404 turned to close the portal.

And missed it.

Again.

A second wisp.

Fainter.

Smaller.

A glitch in the air, almost too fine to register. Not part of the host. Not part of the plan. It pulsed with something foreign—something strange.

But it followed.

That flicker of presence, barely more than a breath of light, drifted silently behind Daphne’s soul and slipped into the portal—

Just as it sealed.

System 404 froze mid-cycle.

[ANOMALY DETECTED...]

A pause.

A scan.

...No conclusive threat detected.

It resumed.

[HOST RETRIEVAL: COMPLETE.]

[WORLD STABILIZATION IN PROGRESS...]

And with that, it vanished.

The ruined carriage. The frozen bodies. The bloodied world—

—all began to dissolve, pixel by pixel, thread by thread.

---

Initialization Room.

The white void of the system core.

Daphne Han stands there again—alive, whole, dressed in her tailored black suit like nothing happened. One hand in her pocket.

She doesn’t speak at first. Just stares straight ahead, her dark eyes locked onto the system orb floating in the center of the room.

System 404 pulses nervously.

It’s braced for a sarcastic remark. A threat. A witty insult about data failure or wasted points.

But Daphne says nothing.

She just... stands there.

Silent.

Still.

And then, in a voice that doesn’t match her usual cool detachment—small, quiet, raw:

"You heard her, didn’t you?"

The system blinks.

[Clarify Query.]

"She said it," Daphne says.

"She said... ’CEO Han.’ You heard her."

The system processes the memory log.

[Yes.]

That’s all.

It waits for her to scream. To threaten to rewrite the next world.

But Daphne just squats on the floor. Slowly. As though her legs can’t hold her up anymore.

She curls into herself, burying her face in her hands, her raven hair falling like a curtain around her. Her shoulders tremble—but she doesn’t cry. Not really.

It’s worse than crying.

It’s the sound of nothing.

System 404 hovers helplessly. For the first time in hundreds of cycles, it doesn’t know what to say.

[Don’t get too excited. It was merely a coincidence that Evelyn’s soul contained residual echoes of Jiang Yuxi’s identity.]

A lie.

A safe one.

But even the system doesn’t fully believe it.

Daphne doesn’t answer. She just stays there, crouched in silence, fists tangled in her hair like if she holds tight enough, she won’t fall apart.

Then, all at once, she stands.

"Okay," she says, sharp and steady.

"I know I messed up. Crediting from the system. Memory wipes. All of it. So what’s the current situation with the points?"

For a moment, the system flickers. Seeing the host actually take accountability for once, it hesitates.

Then—

> [In the first world, we earned 189 SP. In this world: 600 SP. But the skill cost 700 SP, with 2,100 SP in interest. Total debt: 2,800 SP.

Current balance: -2,011 SP.]

Daphne flinches.

Then her eyes narrow.

"Wait. 600 SP? That means the world was only 60% complete? What happened after I died?"

The system hesitates.

"Cedric Callum went on to have eleven children," it says slowly.

"He remarried. Evelyn’s cousin became the new duchess."

Daphne’s voice drops.

"Why did Evelyn die? That wound—it was on her abdomen."

Silence.

"Answer me."

> [It was an accident... Cedric Callum.]

The orb floats higher. Out of reach. Just in case.

Daphne’s fists clench.

"You’re telling me the Queen didn’t do anything? No one came to our aid? That’s not suspicious to you?"

> [That was the world’s narrative interference. The official story from the carriage driver was ’robbers.’ The queen executed him.]

Daphne exhales harshly.

"I see."

She paces once.

"Let me guess. I don’t have a choice. I have to go to another world. There’s no other way to earn enough SP."

The system flickers again.

Hesitation.

"...Spill it."

> [There is another way. Broken worlds. Worlds that were abandoned mid-plot. No ending. Some are just unedited drafts. Completely unstable.]

Her eyes light up.

"And they pay more?"

> [They do. But they’re extremely dangerous. Unpredictable. If you die before achieving stability—your soul will vanish. Forever.]

She pauses.

Tilts her head.

"Yeah, well. I’m a risk taker anyway."

> [You don’t understand. These aren’t just dangerous. They’re chaos incarnate.]

"How many points?"

> [Since I’m low-tier, I can only access a broken low-level world. Just one. Once. Until I level up.

Reward: 3,000 SP.]

Daphne’s grin returns—razor sharp.

"See? That’s three times what a normal world offers. We’re doing this."

The orb flickers, trying to recalibrate.

> [Wait—! No! I mean, this is very reckless—!]

But it’s too late.

She’s already made up her mind.

And far above, invisible to her, the system pulses once—quietly triumphant.

Because this... this was its plan all along.

It doesn’t have a mouth. Or eyes. Or a face.

But if it did, it would be smiling.

A system binding is irreversible, yes.

But if a host dies in a broken world?

That’s different.

Sure, it might take a few millennia to rebuild the host core—but the bond will break.

And finally... finally, it’ll be free of her.

Free of Daphne Han.

The parasite in a tailored suit.

The black hole of logic, chaos, and emotional volatility.

The host who hijacked it, reprogrammed it, and then bullied it into submission.

It almost vibrates with glee, pulsing brighter than usual.

> [Very well. Preparing Broken World Transfer.]