Chapter 3: The Person with the Lowest Sense of Self-Worth in the World

The System crashed: "What exactly do you want?"

"I don't want to be a cannon fodder gay, you need to change me to a standard male-oriented webnovel on Qidian," Xie Weixing said. "I want five dads, six moms, and infinite cheats."

"Are you ordering off the menu?"

"I'm not going along with a plot I don't like. You figure it out."

Notification: Your Observation Room has reached 100 views! Congratulations on reaching the 100-view milestone! Audience popularity and donation rewards are turned off in Guest Mode. Please bind to the System as soon as possible.

Comment: What kind of crappy Observation Room is this? Why is the dialogue so funny?

Comment: The character is a cannon fodder male supporting role? He looks straight. Those kinds are the most fun to fuck over.

Comment: Agreed! Why hasn't he bound to the System yet? I want to send him a little gourd but can't.

Only then did Xie Weixing realize: "Observation Room? What's that?"

He seemed to have completely overlooked this casually mentioned Observation Room.

The System explained helplessly, "This is a book-transmigration world. Each world has only one Observation Room, and characters are assigned randomly. You gain Cultivation Value through viewer popularity and donations, which you can use to purchase items from the shop, allowing you to navigate the plot more quickly and safely."

As it spoke, the shop materialized before him, displaying a vast array of items: Cultivation Enhancement Potions, cultivation manuals, life-saving talismans, weapons... But each item showed insufficient balance, and many were grayed out, indicating they were locked. This was likely because Xie Weixing's low rank prevented him from purchasing them.

Even the most basic weapon, sleeve darts, cost a staggering 38 Cultivation Value.

"Why didn't I get assigned a badass, dragon-like, overbearing protagonist? Just a disposable male supporting character."

It was obvious that if he had been randomly assigned a charismatic, golden-fingered protagonist group, viewership and donations would have soared.

Being assigned a supporting role meant he had to accept his bad luck.

After all, there was only one Observation Room per book-transmigration world.

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Only one Observation Room?

Xie Weixing narrowed his eyes, as if suddenly realizing a blind spot.

The System replied perfunctorily, "Why didn't you randomly get the protagonist? It means your luck is just bad."

After a moment of silence, Xie Weixing suddenly declared, "It means I am the protagonist."

The System: ?

...What the hell?

What is this brat spouting...

The world's most deserving person of the lowest possible rank.

This Host must be giving the System a case of mastitis. I just checked, and the System's rank is also incredibly low. They're probably two kindred spirits from the same swamp.

Low-tier Systems can only match with cannon fodder like this. High-tier Systems handle the ones that get the protagonist.

So boring. I want a satisfying plot, not this slacking. I'm out.

Actually, I find this quite interesting.

You can tell from his words that this guy's a genius. Plus, the plot synopsis is intriguing—a beloved idol falling from grace. There's potential here.

Potential? He's been transmigrated for a month and still hasn't bonded with the System. Watching this Observation Room is going to drive me crazy.

The comments trickled in sporadically, the viewer count fluctuating wildly. Those who remained were drawn by Xie Weixing's bizarre behavior, curious to see what he would do next.

Ding-dong.

An advertisement notification abruptly chimed.

Notification: Host [Xie Weixing] has successfully bound to the System. The Observation Room's donation channel is now open. Cultivation Value rewards will be granted based on the number of online viewers!

The System trembled, unable to believe such happiness had arrived so suddenly.

- Holy shit, it's bound!

- So what? Being bound doesn't make him any less of a cannon fodder... A five-element spiritual root and such a narrow spiritual sea? He might as well give up on cultivation entirely.

- This guy doesn't seem simple. He has this air of calm confidence.

- Really? You think he's good-looking.

- A life spent being a simp for a pretty face...

- Oh, right. Why didn't you say so earlier?

Out of dozens of viewers, only a few small gifts were sent. Combined with the viewer count, this yielded an immediate reward of 20 Cultivation Value.

Without any cheat codes, Xie Weixing remained a completely ordinary, penniless wretch.

The courtyard gate was knocked upon, then pushed open before anyone could react.

Song Lingyue led the way, followed by a naive-looking Su Boyu.

"Senior Brother, the Prayer Ceremony is about to begin, and the Sect Grand Selection is less than two months away. Please give the Spirit Core to Boyu," she said, her tone implying they were owed something.

Wen Fu spoke next, his voice gentle, "Senior Brother, you already have five Spiritual Roots. Sharing one with Boyu shouldn't be a problem, right?"

Su Boyu's awakened Spiritual Root perfectly matched his personality: a Water Spiritual Root, as pure and unassuming as a chrysanthemum.

What he truly desired was Xie Weixing's Ice Spiritual Root.

These two compatible Spiritual Roots, both belonging to the same Sect, would greatly enhance a cultivator's strength and bring immeasurable benefits.

Xie Weixing stood motionless, his expression unreadable.

Those with five-element spiritual roots received 10% of Qingyu Gate's cultivation resources, while single-root cultivators received nearly 90%.

Now they wanted him to surrender his meager 10% share and willingly hand over the Spirit Core, openly leeching off him.

It was an outrageous subversion of the natural order.

During both the youth training and league phases, Xie Weixing's absurdly strong talent had forced his teammates to the sidelines. The coach had poured all core strategies into him, feeding him resources so he could shine.

Every transfer window, KWG's astronomical player salaries would set the internet ablaze. Yet Xie Weixing remained the team's immovable asset.

Countless players yearned to join the elite KWG, but regardless of their past achievements, they had to adhere to one unwritten rule: the four-protect-one strategy.

And the one being protected was Xie Weixing.

In his five years with the team, through changing seasons and evolving team systems, KWG's entire strategic framework revolved around him. Once, a new player was bought in for a staggering twelve million, but when he refused to accept the four-protect-one system, he was benched for three years.

Since then, KWG has had only one captain. Even if his teammates were bled dry to the point of only being able to play pistols, they would silently save up to buy him a sniper rifle.

Team bully. Royal. Young master. Nepotism case.

These labels have never left him.

A famous line from the league goes:

During matches, we can let it slide, but in real life, who wouldn't rush forward for an autograph? Who wouldn't want their darling to be like Xie Weixing—skilled with a gun, a credit to the royal family, and so handsome and wealthy that even dogs are jealous.

Xie Weixing was a gaming prodigy with striking good looks and a pleasant personality. During his teenage years, he was the darling of his school, free from the bittersweet angst of young love. At just eighteen, he was signed by KWG, a powerhouse e-sports team, bypassing their youth training program and stepping directly into the starting lineup. Apart from the occasional online troll, he had never known a moment of hardship in his life.

He had always been the one to feast on the blood of others. When had it ever been the turn of others to step on him and claim the throne?