System! What the Heck Do You Want Me to Confess?!

The stone coffin lid slid slowly open, the grating sound of ancient, heavy metal echoing through the empty tomb, sending a chill down one's spine.

A pale, slender hand emerged first from the coffin, fingertips carrying a cold white sheen, and then, the entire figure slowly revealed itself.

Her stature was absurdly tall; even lying down, her upright frame and perfect proportions were impossible to hide.

A cascade of golden hair spread across the coffin's base, the strands soft and shimmering with a faint light.

Skin fairer than snow, features so delicate they left no flaw to critique, long lashes drooping, a high-bridged nose, and lips of a light crimson—cold and beautiful, yet noble.

She wore a tight black robe that outlined her graceful curves, embroidered with eerie green patterns that resonated with the tomb's green glow. A faint green aura surrounded her, blending stunning beauty with a chilling majesty and strangeness, the contrast hitting hard.

What stood out most was her attire.

In one hand, she held a scepter, glowing faintly green, its shaft engraved with runes, topped with an irregular green crystal whose inner light swirled.

On her head sat a simple yet imposing headpiece. Fu Haoran couldn't shake the feeling it looked like a simplified version of an ancient Egyptian pharaoh's white crown—whether decorative or functional, it seemed formidable.

A thought flashed through Fu Haoran's mind: "A pharaoh of the Necrontyr... this design is way too classic."

The woman slowly sat up, fully extending her form, her height instantly dwarfing everyone present.

Before her, everyone looked like elementary school kids.

Ronan and the others instinctively stepped back, while Yuri retreated straight to the exit, only for the door to slam shut.

Father Kallen's processor emitted a sharp whine, his metal eye fixed on her, nearing overload.

Fu Haoran's first reaction was to grip his plasma pistol tighter.

His second reaction was, "Holy shit, she's tall."

Her height wasn't the muscle-bound bulk of an Astartes; it was the natural authority of a queen surveying her subjects, needing no extra motion to exude pressure.

"Does the Necrontyr even have this kind of build?" Fu Haoran thought. "Wait, aren't Necrons all turned into metal skeletons? How does she have flesh?"

Below her collarbone, curves rose with unabashed confidence.

Big thunder.

Fu Haoran's first thought was, "Damn, the system didn't screw me this time—looks and figure are all up to par... but that green glow and eerie vibe, the more I look, the more something's off."

The next second, the system's sly prompt echoed in his mind, dripping with obvious vindictiveness:

[Perfectly matched to the Reincarnator's needs, exclusive adjutant (modified version) has been awakened!]

[Friendly reminder: As the host only specified appearance and physique, without mentioning loyalty, docility, or related requirements, the system adheres to the reward-matching principle and is not responsible for other factors.]

[Identity Info: Lucifer Farah, last pharaoh of the Nova Shadow Dynasty, Psionic Arbiter King. Sleep duration: approximately sixty-three million standard years.]

[System note: Don't ask why a Necrontyr pharaoh has flesh. The answer is 'modified version.' Host, good luck to you.]

[SSS-rank emergency mission triggered: Conquer the Ancient Overlord]

[Mission objective: Survive the first contact and lead the target out of the tomb]

[Failure penalty: Target fully awakens ancient killing intent; host and all subordinates executed]

Fu Haoran: ...?

Fu Haoran instantly broke down.

"You sly system! You're screwing me back? This is an adjutant? This is clearly a god of death!"

Fu Haoran wanted to drag the system out of his mental sea and slam it on the ground.

This is an adjutant?

This is clearly a pharaoh king just crawled out of a grave!

Just as Fu Haoran was cursing inwardly, the woman slowly opened her eyes. Her irises were green, strikingly beautiful.

Her gaze fell on Fu Haoran—not looking at a person, but at a daring primitive mammal that had disturbed her sixty-million-year slumber, oblivious to its own doom.

"Do you know what you've done?" she spoke, her voice low, carrying the husky magnetism of a smoker's tone—a classic mature woman's trait, especially alluring.

As her words fell, the green light around her surged. Yuri and the guards instinctively stepped back again, their bodies chilled, not daring to breathe loudly.

If it were a different time and place, Fu Haoran wouldn't mind flirting with this mature beauty, but now... the more he looked, the colder he felt.

"Why does a beautiful female adjutant trigger an SSS-rank mission?"

"System, come out and explain yourself!"

The usually chatty system chose to go completely silent at this moment.

Fu Haoran stared at the woman before him, cursing the system a thousand times in his mind: "You damn dog system, daring to screw me! What the hell is this thing?!"

Suddenly, the woman moved.

Without any extra motion, she raised her hand and swung at a nearby guard. The force was absurdly strong; the guard was sent flying, crashing into the stone wall and knocked unconscious.

The remaining guards immediately raised their guns and fired. Bullets whistled out but were blocked by the faint green aura within a meter of her, deflecting away without even touching her clothes.

She stepped forward slowly, her movements elegant yet carrying a killing intent, sending several more flying with bare hands. Yuri cowered in a corner, not daring to breathe, while Kallen remained frozen in place, his processor whining incessantly.

Fu Haoran watched this scene, his mind racing: "Necron hyper-alloy skeleton... no, she has flesh, but her strength is still Necron-level. What the hell did the system stuff into her?"

In an instant, all the guards lay on the ground. In the tomb, only Fu Haoran remained standing in the center.

The woman walked up to Fu Haoran, raised a hand, and clamped it around his neck, her grip tightening gradually. Fu Haoran's feet left the ground, his breathing grew labored, and his face flushed crimson.

"Speak. Who are you?" she said, her tone icy, murderous intent surging in her eyes, yet hiding a trace of barely perceptible confusion.

Fu Haoran, choked until his whole body went limp, caught a glimpse of that confusion in her eyes from the corner of his vision.

"No choice. I have to gamble!"

Fu Haoran mustered his last ounce of strength and forced out the words, his voice wrapped in the most sincere emotion of his entire life.

Fu Haoran swore that even back in high school when he'd skipped class to hit the internet café, got caught, and was hauled in for tea and a lecture, he'd never been this earnest.

"Darling... don't you remember me?"

"I... I'm your lover! I came here to awaken you!"

Yuri, cowering in the corner, stared at Fu Haoran like he'd seen a ghost, mentally screaming: "Holy crap? The Governor's lost it? This thing could kill us all, and he dares to claim he's its lover?!"

He clamped his mouth shut, not daring to breathe, terrified the woman would notice him and drag him into the mess.

The woman's hand around Fu Haoran's neck loosened slightly.

The confusion in her dark green eyes grew thicker, and a faint ripple stirred across her icy gaze.

It wasn't belief.

It was a logical contradiction.

She vaguely remembered that before her slumber, she had already been a cold metal shell—no flesh, no heartbeat, no so-called "lover."

But now.

Heartbeat, warmth, touch.

The carotid artery of this primitive mammal before her was pulsing against her fingertips.

Two sets of memories clashed in her mind.

One was metal, cold, sixty million years of solitude.

The other was flesh, warm, and... fragments of vague bonds implanted by the system.

She couldn't tell which was real.

But she dimly recalled an emperor, to consolidate his rule, wiping out the memories of certain nobles on a massive scale.

That was the last fragment before her slumber—the emperor, cloaked in cold metallic luster, his tone so frigid it still lingered in her consciousness.

Her memories might be false after all.

She stared at Fu Haoran and let go.

Not because she believed him.

But because she couldn't prove he was lying within a closed logical loop.

Fu Haoran dropped to the ground, coughing violently.

"Cough, cough, cough~"

The woman looked down at him, her voice still cold but with a hint less murderous intent: "I don't remember you, nor any promise."

"But I can spend some time with you. Perhaps, from you, I can recover those lost memories."

"This One is Lucifer Farah, Pharaoh of the Nova Shadow Dynasty, Psionic Arbiter King."

As the woman spoke her name, a faint daze flickered in her eyes, as if she herself hadn't uttered it in a long time.

Fu Haoran's heart skipped a beat: "Nova Shadow Dynasty... never heard of it, but 'Pharaoh' as a title, and psionics... definitely Necron material, no doubt."

Fu Haoran picked himself up off the ground, rubbing the finger marks on his neck, and answered with difficulty: "Fu Haoran."

She looked at him.

"I'm not sure if what you say is true or false."

She paused, then slowly leaned down, her cold, pale fingers precisely pinching Fu Haoran's chin. The force was light, but carried an unshakable pressure, her tone bitingly cold:

"Until verification is complete... your life is protected by the dynasty's laws, and also subject to my personal judgment."

She released her grip and turned. The hem of her black robe brushed past his knees.

"Let's go."

Fu Haoran stiffened, then quickly nodded, his chin still aching from the pinch. Inwardly, he cursed the system a thousand times over:

"This isn't a guide for a deputy—it's signing a slave contract!"

"And with a Necron pharaoh who just crawled out of a sixty-million-year-old grave..."

"System, just you wait."