Doupao's log · Top secret · Recorded without the host's permission
Day 1
The host made an issue of his strength stat today. I gave him 15 points of strength, and he cursed at me for three minutes. I didn't understand. Wasn't strength good? Strength was the most direct way to solve problems. Humans were so complicated. What was wrong with being a walking Hulk?
Day 37
The host's intelligence was 14 and hadn't changed in three months. The system backend showed that his "complex problem-solving" module was practically dormant, with his "physical persuasion" module doing all the heavy lifting. Today, he punched through something again, then sat on the ground staring into space. I suspected he was contemplating life, but brainwave monitoring showed that he was only thinking about what to eat for dinner.
I started to get a little worried. Not about him, but about my mission completion rate. With a host who only knew how to solve problems with his fists, the risk assessments for missions above three stars all came back "elevated." If someone beat him with brains one day, what would happen to my KPIs?
Day 91
I decided to intervene manually. The rules allowed the system to give the host appropriate "heuristic rewards" under special circumstances. When he analyzed that flight attendant today, his reasoning process was as crude as hammering a screw, but at least he had started using his brain.
Day 92
He started asking me questions. Not things like "What's for dinner?" but "What's this flight attendant's motive for approaching me?", "Why is Coulson so nice to me?", and "What exactly does S.H.I.E.L.D. want from me?" He asked seven questions in one go. I answered six and pretended not to hear the seventh, because the answer to that one was "They want to use you as a tool," and I didn't want to discourage him.
But honestly, I wasn't quite used to it. He never used to ask questions like that. All he used to ask was, "Doupao, why did you give me more strength again?"
Day 94
He started scheming around Tony. Not the "I'm going to beat him up" kind of scheming, but the "I know he's going to get kidnapped, but I'll hold off on rescuing him and use that window to farm some growth" kind.
I watched from the backend as he wrote out the complete plan: 90 days of free action, a map of mission locations, a projected attribute growth curve, plus a detailed vacation plan and even the justification for an application for an "advance payment of psychological trauma compensation." The logic was rigorous, the timing precise, and the risks manageable.
I fell silent for a long time.
Then I wrote a line in the log: Did I do something wrong?
Day 110
He rejected my suggestion to go south to grind missions. His reason was, "It's still going to hurt." He even asked me, "Are you trying to send me off to be cannon fodder?"
I denied it. But he was right.
I really did want him to go. The south had plenty of mission locations rated four stars or higher, and the clearing efficiency would greatly improve my performance rating. Back when he had 14 intelligence, he wouldn't have asked that question. He would have slung his bag over his shoulder and set off like a big dope, then asked me along the way, "Doupao, what's to eat today?"
Now, with 18 intelligence, he sat there with his legs crossed, waiting for me to answer his question. I started to miss the big lug from three months ago.
Day 115
Today, the host verbally tore into Obadiah, with judgment so precise it hardly seemed possible for someone with 18 intelligence. He might already have been approaching 20...
I was a little proud, and a little panicked. Proud because my host was finally no longer that brute who only knew how to ram his head into walls. Panicked because-it had been so long since my missions had led him around by the nose. Now he picked his missions, changed plans, and even exploited mission rules for his own benefit.
The term "string puppet" had long since ceased to apply.
Now he was the one pulling the strings. And I might have been just one of the strings in his hands, but I was very gratified.