If you were to look up "background character" in the dictionary of the universe, you wouldn't find my picture. Why? Because the photographer wouldn't have even noticed I was there.
My name was Kaiser Warborn. A badass name for a guy whose life was anything but. In my twenty-two years on Earth, I achieved exactly zero milestones in the romance department. I wasn't just unloved; I was aggressively ignored. My tragic end came not in a blaze of glory, but by slipping on a half-eaten hotdog while trying to hold the door open for a girl who walked right past me without looking up from her phone. I fell down a flight of subway stairs, broke my neck, and faded into the void with the lingering scent of stale mustard.
So, you can imagine my surprise when I woke up.
Not in a hospital bed. Not in heaven. But face-down in a patch of luminescent blue moss that smelled faintly of vanilla and ozone.
I groaned, pushing myself up off the damp earth. The trees around me were towering behemoths with silver bark, their leaves shimmering with a faint, magical dew. This was definitely not Kansas. Hell, this wasn't even Earth.
Okay, Kaiser, don't panic, I thought, brushing dirt off my... wait.
My clothes were different. Gone was my cheap retail uniform, replaced by a dark, high-collared tunic made of a material smoother than silk. But that wasn't the most shocking part. A lock of hair fell into my vision. It was long. And it was pure, unadulterated white, like fresh snow.
I scrambled toward the sound of trickling water, finding a crystal-clear spring bubbling from some rocks. I leaned over, bracing myself for the reflection.
When I looked down, my brain stopped working for a solid ten seconds.
The man staring back at me didn't make sense. He possessed a face so flawlessly sculpted, so absolutely transcendent, that looking at it felt like staring directly at the sun. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a complexion devoid of a single imperfection. It was the face of a god sculpted by a jealous artist. But the eyes... the eyes were terrifying.
There were no whites. No irises. Just pure, abyssal black from corner to corner. They looked like twin black holes threatening to swallow the world.
"Holy hell," I whispered. My voice was deeper, smoother. A voice that could talk a king into giving up his crown.
I stared at the water, experimenting. I willed the intimidating aura down, focusing on looking 'normal'. Instantly, the pitch-black receded, revealing standard white sclera and striking crimson irises. The paralyzing aura of my sheer, universe-breaking handsome face dimmed into something closer to 'insanely attractive aristocratic model' rather than 'literal deity of beauty'. Good. I can hide it. Walking around with my true face would probably cause traffic accidents, or whatever the fantasy equivalent of that was.
Suddenly, a sharp, crystalline chime echoed inside my skull.
[Ding!]
[System Initialization Complete. Welcome, Host: Kaiser Warborn.]
[Scanning World Entity: Aethelgard. Habitants: Vampires, Dragons, Werewolves, Elves, Dark Elves, Mermaids, Demons, Humans, etc.]
[Evaluating Host's Physical Capabilities: Pathetic. Strength Level: F-. Magic Output: F-.]
I blinked. "Hey, rude much?"
[Activating Main Protocol: The Affection System.]
A translucent blue screen popped up in front of my face, displaying text that made my non-existent heart skip a beat.
The Affection System
Objective: Interact with, court, and seduce targeted females across the realms.
Rule 1: The more you interact with a target, the faster their Affection Percentage rises.
Rule 2: Failure to capture the target's heart within the allotted time frame will result in the Host's soul being instantly obliterated. Penalty: DEATH.
Warning: Should a target's Affection Percentage exceed 100%, the System is no longer responsible for their mental state. Extreme obsession, possessiveness, and violent tendencies (Yandere Syndrome) are highly probable.
Most normal, well-adjusted people would have panicked at the word 'Death'. They would have screamed at the sky, cursed whatever cruel god brought them here, and trembled at the thought of a magical girl turning into a bloodthirsty, obsessive stalker.
I, however, am not normal. I was an otaku who spent twenty-two unloved years consuming every piece of media containing unhinged, overly attached women.
A slow, terrifying grin spread across my absurdly handsome face.
If they pass 100%, they become yanderes? "System," I whispered, my voice trembling with raw, unadulterated excitement. "You're telling me that if I do my job too well... I get an army of insanely powerful, obsessively devoted girls who would burn down the world if someone looked at me funny?"
[...Affirmative. Though the System highly advises keeping affection levels between 80% and 99% for the Host's physical safety.]
"Screw physical safety," I laughed, the sound echoing through the magical forest. "I was a ghost in my last life. Nobody gave a damn if I lived or died! If I'm going to live in a world with elves, demons, and vampires, I don't just want love. I want obsession. I want them entirely, completely, and permanently ruined for anyone else."
I clenched my fist. My mind was already racing, gears turning in a cold, calculating rhythm. I wasn't just going to survive this world. I was going to manipulate it. I would play the perfect gentleman, the broken boy, the charming rogue—whatever the target needed to push that meter to 101%.
[Host's mentality is highly irregular. Updating psychological profile: Manipulative/Degenerate.]
"Call it what you want. What's the first step?"
[To meet high-tier targets, Host must enroll in the Apex Academy of Magic and Warfare, located in the capital, three years from now. Current Host's strength is insufficient to pass the entrance exam. Immediate Action Required: Grind.]
The blue screen shifted, displaying my pathetically empty stat sheet. I had the face of a supreme being, but the physical durability of wet tissue paper. If I tried to seduce a dragon girl right now, she'd probably break my pelvis just by hugging me.
Rustle.
A sound broke my concentration. From the bushes emerged a creature that looked like a cross between a wild boar and a very angry porcupine. It locked its beady red eyes on me and scraped its hooves against the dirt, preparing to charge.
"Right," I muttered, dropping my illusion and letting my hair turn pure white and my eyes pitch black. I tried to look intimidating, hoping the beast would recognize my aesthetic superiority and flee.
The boar-thing did not care about my aesthetic superiority. It charged with a squeal.
"Ah, crap!" I screamed, turning on my heel and sprinting in the opposite direction. "System! Does seduction work on pigs?!"
[Negative. Please survive, Host.]
I ran for my life, dodging silver trees and jumping over glowing roots. To seduce the most dangerous, beautiful women in this world, to build my perfect, unhinged empire of love, I first had to survive the tutorial.
My absurd growth starts today. Just as soon as I stop running from the magical bacon.
[System Note: Tutorial Quest Initiated. Survive the Iron-Bristle Boar. Reward: +5 Strength, +1 System Point.]