QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL) Chapter 251: Over and over

Chapter 251

Daphne

"System!"

I internally scream the word and, like clockwork, the world bleeds into monochro. All sound dies. Even Nima’s lips—mid-question, mid-plea—hang parted in a frozen expression. The only movent is the slow drift of the purple orb materialising in front of .

I drag a hand down my face. "I’m sure you already know what’s happening here." I gesture at Nima’s frozen form. "She’s rembering, isn’t she? The previous worlds?"

[Scanning.]

The orb flickers, streams of violet code scrolling across its surface.

[It is the sa soul. Cross-referencing records: Jiang Yuxi, Evelyn Callum, Estella—]

"Yeah, no shit," I cut it off. "I asked if I’m allowed to tell her."

[Host, you asked a question—]

There’s no tone in the robotic voice, but I swear I can hear sarcasm.

I glare. "So the good little, perfect system behaviour was just an act, wasn’t it, 404?"

The blob drifts in a lazy circle.

[It is not an act. I am the Harem-Breaking System. I am here to help the host—]

"Are you still mad I reported you? Because I had to. You nearly killed in the Broken World."

[ I was doing my job! As the Harem-Building System!!! ]

"That didn’t an you had to try and get rid of !"

[ You were breaking harems! ]

"Then you should have found another host," I snap. "You know how I am."

[ I HAD A SUITABLE HOST CHOSEN! ]

"Where is this ’suitable host’ now?"

[BECAUSE YOU PUSHED HIM INTO THE VOID.]

I roll my eyes. "Why are you bringing up old matters? That was three worlds ago. Don’t be petty. Be professional."

[ Y—YOU—]

"Relax." I reach out, snatch the orb out of the air and squeeze it like a stress ball.

"It’s all in the past now, isn’t it? You’re my harem-breaking system now. Let’s get along."

[Affirmative. Please stop stretching my data codes.]

It wriggles free of my grip, re-floating near Nima.

[It appears this soul has accompanied Host through each world. Each ti, a small amount of world essence is siphoned onto it, making it stable. This is why it is able to retain fragnts of mory.]

I stare at Nima’s still form. The monochro makes her look like a charcoal sketch, fragile and eternal at once.

"So can I tell her? It won’t disrupt anything?"

The system hesitates.

[Unknown. This is not within my programd code.]

"Very helpful," I mutter. "Aren’t you supposed to be my guide?"

[When it cos to the mission. This is beyond mission paraters.]

I exhale slowly, eyes on Nima. I stare at her frozen face, her hand still raised mid-gesture, lips parted like she’s about to ask another question. In black and white, even the tremor in her eyelashes is visible, like a sketch I could trace forever.

I take a deep breath, fingers trembling where they hover above Nima’s cheek.

"I don’t know what I’m going to do," I admit, voice cracking just enough to betray .

The purple glow of the orb pulses once. Then the world snaps back into colour. Sound rushes in.

"Daphne?" Nima’s voice is soft, tentative, her warm palm still pressed to my face like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she lets go.

I lean into her touch, closing my eyes for a heartbeat. My forehead almost touches hers. "Well," I murmur, forcing a steadiness I don’t feel as I straighten to my full height.

"I can’t say what you’re thinking is wrong."

Her doe eyes blink up at , wide and wet, the kind of eyes that undo in every lifeti. She looks so small, so heartbreakingly earnest. My chest tightens.

"I have been in love with you for a really long ti," I say quietly. No deflection, no teasing, just truth.

Her lips part. A breath trembles out of her. Then she smiles—small at first, tentative, the edges curling into sothing radiant.

Seriously... how could I not fall in love with her?

"Can you... can you... tell about it?" she asks hesitantly, voice small but steady.

I weigh it. My thumb traces the line of her jaw. As long as I don’t tell her about the mission itself... it should be fine.

"Well, I have this... mission I’m on," I say slowly. "Maybe one day I can tell you everything."

I lace my fingers through hers and tug her gently toward the far wall. "For now, co with ."

Her brows lift, but she doesn’t look surprised.

"You snooped, didn’t you?" I ask, glancing back at her with a raised brow.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t an to—" she starts quickly, ears drooping.

I chuckle, squeezing her hand. "It’s okay."

I kneel and press my palm to the hidden panel. It clicks open with a soft sigh, revealing the narrow ladder descending into the compartnt below. I slip down first.

"Bring that lamp with you," I call up.

A mont later her silhouette appears above, lamp in hand, and I steady her waist as she steps down. The secret room slls of cedar and oil paints, walls lined with canvases stacked like silent witnesses. It’s small enough that the warmth of her body against mine makes the air feel charged.

"What... what do you want to know?" I ask quietly.

"What you can tell ," she says, clutching the lamp to her chest.

I hum and move toward the first canvas, pulling the cloth off with a slow sweep. "Co and see her."

She pads closer, her ears twitching.

"This is Jiang Yuxi," I say softly. "The first ti...the beginning."

"Jan... uxi?" she repeats, tongue stumbling over the na.

"Jiang Yuxi," I correct gently.

My bunny looks at with an almost aggrieved little pout, like she’s asking how she’s supposed to rember that.

"She was an actress," I continue, eyes fixed on the painted face frozen in ti.

"The best in her industry. I didn’t an to, but I fell in love with her."

I touch the edge of the fra, thumb brushing the dried paint.

"I fell so deeply in love with her... it devastated when she died."

I move to the next canvas. The lamp’s glow spills over a woman in a crimson gown.

"This was the Duchess. Duchess Evelyn. That was another tale." My voice dips.

"Heartbroken from Yuxi’s death, I didn’t know it was the sa soul. It was... hard falling in love with her and feeling like I was betraying Yuxi. The dream you ntioned—the grassy view? That’s probably her."

Nima’s eyes widen. Her hand tightens around the lamp handle.

I lead her to the final portrait, pulling the cover aside. A woman in black, silver knives glinting in her hands, glares from the canvas.

"This... this is Estella," I say. "She was sothing else entirely. An assassin."

Nima gasps.

"Yep," I murmur, almost fondly. "And on our first eting she tried to kill ."

"And you still fell in love with her?" she whispers.

Nima stays silent. I give her space. It’s a lot, after all.

"So... how old are you?" she asks finally, voice small.

"Twenty-one," I answer automatically.

Her ears twitch. "Your true age."

"I..." I drag a hand through my hair. "I don’t know."

And I really don’t. My first life is blurred at the edges, like a photograph left out in the sun. I think I died in my forties? Then Yuxi. Then Evelyn. Then Estella. Not to ntion that broken fairytale-world.

"I genuinely can’t rember," I admit, eyes sliding away from hers. "Maybe over two hundred?"

She gasps, ears jerking upright.

I can’t resist a smirk. "What? Don’t like anymore now that I’m old, my little bunny?"

She stares at , wide-eyed. "It just... makes sense now."

"What does?" I tilt my head, genuinely curious.

"Your personality," she murmurs. "The way you’re always sleeping, the way you’re bored, the way you act like you do..."

I feign an offended gasp. "Are you calling old, my bunny?"

Her cheeks go pink. "N-no... maybe," she mumbles, eyes darting anywhere but at .

I smile, just a little. "Well, now that you ntion it, I am old," I say lightly.

Her eyes flick up to mine, and for a second there’s no teasing left—just honesty.

"Isn’t it a little sad," she whispers, "that you’re the only one who gets to rember?"

The words hit like an arrow straight to my chest. I swallow hard.

"Well..." I start, voice softer than I an it to be.

"I can’t say it doesn’t break my heart a little—having to et you again and seeing no recognition in your eyes. Pretending it’s the first ti when I already know how you taste when you smile."

Nima’s ears flop low against her head, her gaze dropping. The lamp light flickers against her lashes.

"But think about it this way," I continue, reaching out to tilt her chin up.

"I get to have you fall in love with again. And I get to fall in love with you again. Over and over."

Her breath catches, and when she speaks it’s barely a whisper.

"I don’t think I’m very impressive compared to them. I an... they were literally more beautiful versions of . More confident, cooler. An actress. A duchess. An assassin. And I’m just... a bunny."

I step closer, closing the last of the distance until we’re nearly touching.

"You are beautiful, Nima," I say, slow and deliberate.

"All versions of you are. Every single one of them."

Her eyes flicker up, wide and uncertain.

"But as much as that’s your soul, you’re your own person," I go on, my thumb brushing her jaw.

"You’ve lived a different life, with different scars and different dreams. I’ve loved getting to know you. Getting to fall in love with you again."

Her lips tremble at that. She doesn’t pull away when I lean in, just blinks up at , caught sowhere between disbelief and hope.

"You really an that?" she asks, voice breaking a little.

I smile, soft and sure. "I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t."