Chapter 1: The Genius Cannon Fodder’s Counterattack (Part 1)

Little Ford leaned against the car, smoking.

Dusk had fallen. The spark of his lighter cast a faint glow on half his face.

After smoking about half, he glanced at his watch, held the cigarette in his mouth, slipped in through the half-open car window, took out a nearly empty bottle of mineral water, and flicked most of the cigarette and its ash into it. Then he fished out some chewing gum from his pocket, chewed it a couple of times, and spat the residue into a napkin.

He was about to throw the trash into the bin, but just as he turned, the person he was waiting for arrived.

That person walked out of the software company’s main entrance, looking a bit tired. The first thing he noticed was the brand-new car parked by the roadside, and only then did he see Little Ford.

His expression grew a bit complicated: “…Little Clark.”

In this world, Little Ford is called Evan Clark.

Catching sight of that face, Little Ford was momentarily stunned, actually forgetting to go up and greet him.

The man stood there, habitually waiting for “Evan Clark” to come over. When he realized “Evan Clark” had no intention of moving, he frowned in confusion.

At that moment, a half-human, half-mechanical voice sounded in Little Ford’s mind, businesslike and thus a bit cold.

The system reminded: “Mr. Ford, your target is calling you.”

Ignoring the favorability dropping from 72 to 70, Little Ford snapped back to reality and commented, “Not bad looking.”

Then he straightened up and sighed to himself, “I’ve been single too long. Even a turtle looks handsome to me.”

System: “……”

Then Little Ford pretended he couldn’t see clearly in the dark, squinted to get a better look, and his previously unfocused eyes suddenly lit up with joy. The dimples in his cheeks were so sweet you’d want to smile with him: “Old Young!”

System: “……” Instantly in character. Not bad.

The “turtle” Little Ford needed to win over was named Brian Young.

To be fair, this “Old Young” wasn’t actually old—he was just four years older than Evan Clark. He was neat, always kept his cuffs tidy; had a fresh aura, hair and nails well-groomed, with a faint woody scent, and a rare combination of ruggedness and steadiness for a young man. The lines of his chest, faintly visible under his white shirt, weren’t exaggerated, but their outline could easily make one’s heart race.

As he moved step by step toward his mission target, Little Ford mentally reviewed the world-line information he’d received.

This world was the first mission Little Ford undertook after entering the system world. According to the system, to help new agents adapt, the first mission after binding with the system would always be in a world-line highly similar to their original life, and the difficulty would be set to easy mode.

In other words, a tutorial.

This tutorial showed that his target, Brian Young, was a “golden phoenix” who’d flown out of a remote southwestern mountain village, the whole family pooling their resources to send him to college, majoring in software engineering. From not knowing how to turn on a computer to successfully getting a graduate school recommendation, nearly seven years of studying away from home had worn away all traces of rusticity from Brian Young. At first glance, he looked just like a city-bred young man.

As for Evan Clark, to put it simply, his family was rich.

How rich? Evan Clark never cared—that was his older brother’s problem.

Evan Clark had loved music since childhood, the kind of love where he’d dive in and drown without a care. He was truly talented, able to pick up any instrument easily, and his excellent voice had the quality of a high-end instrument. Singing, composing, playing—he could do it all.

Evan Clark met Brian Young by chance on campus after enrolling in the conservatory, while visiting an old high school classmate.

At that time, Brian Young was a senior, at his best—spirited and confident, with a refreshing yet rugged energy that completely captivated Evan Clark, who then relentlessly pursued him.