100% Superpower, the Student Council President Is Furious

"Uh... President, isn't this a bit..."

[Host, please honor the agreement and fulfill all of Dongfang Zhixia's demands for the next 24 hours!]

[Task reward: 100% guaranteed coin toss lands on tails.]

[Failure reward: Honesty—compelled to always tell the truth!]

Before Ye Cheng could finish his sentence, the system's prompt abruptly flashed before his eyes. Seeing the absurdly disproportionate task requirements and rewards, he immediately wanted to refuse.

Are you kidding? Satisfying Dongfang Zhixia's every whim for an entire day? What if the young miss orders him to cosplay as some internet meme or do something downright disgusting? That'd be social suicide!

And what’s with the "100% guaranteed coin toss lands on tails" reward? Is this a joke? What the hell is the point of that?

Honestly, even a "buy-one-get-one-free" guarantee on iced tea would be more appealing. This so-called "superpower" is utterly useless—though technically, it is a superpower, no matter how dumb.

Currently, Ye Cheng already possesses another "terrifying" spatial ability: the power to summon a cigarette anytime, anywhere.

Hmm... Sure, it sounds equally lame, but at least it’s vaguely related to spatial manipulation, right?

As the saying goes, "Time is supreme, but space reigns as king." Ye Cheng figured he was at least a minor monarch... sort of.

(He even paused dramatically to avoid slurring the last two words together.)

Ye Cheng was ready to reject the task outright—until he saw the failure "reward." His entire body stiffened, and the disdain in his eyes instantly vanished, replaced by sheer clarity.

"Honesty—compelled to always tell the truth"? That’s a death sentence!

His mind conjured a horrifying scenario: A normal day, Dongfang Zhixia casually asking, "Do you love me?" His "passive" effect triggers, forcing him to blurt out the unfiltered truth. Next thing he knows, the young miss reduces him to mincemeat.

Ye Cheng: "..."

Sometimes, people laugh when they’re truly helpless—not out of optimism, but sheer desperation.

This damn "golden finger" (system) always pretends to offer choices, acting all considerate. But look at this failure "reward"! Who in their right mind would want it? Accept it, and the next day, you’ll be turned into paste just for blinking wrong.

Ye Cheng suspected he was trapped in some capitalist scheme.

Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile and embraced life’s "elbow strike." He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Dongfang Zhixia. The softness of her body and her unique scent flooded his senses.

Hmm... Seems the president has the upper hand here.

Unconsciously, his mind painted a landscape: mountains in the distance, mountains up close, mountains everywhere.

The scheming young miss was clearly outmatched. Ye Cheng mentally noted to sneak more fruits into her meals next time—like papayas. Lots of papayas.

Forgive me, young miss. It’s for your own good.

Just as Ye Cheng’s mind began to drift, Dongfang Zhixia’s authoritative voice snapped him back to reality.

"Kiss me."

Ye Cheng: "???"

He nearly jumped out of his skin, ready to bolt out the window. Was this a dream? Wake up already! If this continues, it’ll turn into a nightmare!

Time was running out. Past experience taught him that task judgments rarely exceeded 30 seconds. Fail to decide in time, and it’s an automatic failure.

Adrenaline surged. His smooth brain kicked into gear, only to immediately report his eyeballs to his immune system.

Screw this. Let’s all just die together.

Cerebellum: "So... it’s my turn again? The slumbering azure beast awakens!"

Cerebellum: "Last time was a fluke. Now, witness the crimson beast!"

Cerebellum: "Engage!!!"

With seconds left, Ye Cheng stopped hesitating and went for it—planting his lips right on hers.

The sensation was overwhelming. Soft, warm, and distinctly flavored—slightly bitter, like coffee, but with a creamy smoothness.

Her fragrance intensified at close range, richer and more buttery than the scheming young miss’s.

Why did the president smell so much like cream? For some reason, Ye Cheng pictured her clumsy, wide-eyed secretary.

Enough.

He didn’t linger. Experience taught him a slap was imminent.

Thankfully, Shen Qinghan had "trained" him well. His endurance and thick skin were now top-tier. Every slap was just another +1 to his defense stat.

He pulled back and braced for impact.

One second passed. Nothing.

Two seconds. Still nothing.

Three...

Huh?

Why no slap? Ye Cheng blinked in confusion. Dongfang Zhixia stood frozen, her gaze vacant, locked onto his chest.

She seemed... dazed.

So... her first kiss. Gone. Just like that. All because she wanted to spite Shen Qinghan?

Her first reaction wasn’t rage or violence—just frantic mental calculations.

How did this happen? She’d imagined Ye Cheng chickening out, kissing her hair, or her cheek. Never her lips.

No, no. She must be hallucinating. That coward wouldn’t dare. This had to be the secretary’s fault. A stress-induced delusion...

A hand waved in front of her face. Ye Cheng’s voice, laced with concern, snapped her back.

"President, are you okay? Uh, well, you should hit me now." Ye Cheng even "kindly" reminded Dongfang Zhixia of what she should do next—hit him.

If she didn’t slap him, she wouldn’t be able to explain herself to Shen Qinghan later. He was counting on that slap to play the victim and act pitiful in front of her. Without it, how could he even start crying?

The squeaky wheel gets the grease—though the context might not be quite right here, it didn’t matter. Crying was the goal either way.

Dongfang Zhixia snapped back to reality at Ye Cheng’s voice.

It was real. All of it was real. Her first kiss was really gone, stolen by some idiot… and worse, it was her own stupidity that had let him kiss her.

Suddenly,

Dongfang Zhixia smiled—a smile that sent chills down Ye Cheng’s spine.

Oh crap, not good. The president’s lost it from anger!

Ye Cheng sucked in a sharp breath, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

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