Bound To The Exiled S-Class Monster

Halie took a deep breath, forcing her racing heart to slow. She tentatively reached out, her fingers passing straight through the blue holographic screen. It was an illusion of light, but the information it presented was terrifyingly real.

The Kismet System's mechanical voice echoed in her mind, a cold recitation of her current state.

"Subject: Halie Avila. Spiritual Power: D-Class. Physical Condition: Severe facial disfigurement, vital signs weak."

A red warning box flashed on the screen. "Alert: Genetic collapse in progress. Without immediate energy infusion for repair, subject will face organ failure within thirty days."

Halie clenched her jaw. The death clock didn't scare her. It focused her. "How do I get energy?" she asked the air, her voice steady.

The system's interface shifted, presenting three options for a main quest line. The first two were assassination missions, each with a mortality rate hovering over ninety percent.

Her eyes locked onto the third option, the one glowing with a soft, golden light: Save the sterile males of the galaxy. Obtain life energy by forming bonds.

Her rational mind, the mind of a top scientist from her past life, knew that hunting beasts with this broken body was suicide. She didn't hesitate. Her finger pressed the third option.

A pleasant chime sounded, and the screen erupted in a shower of golden fireworks. "Newbie gift package has been distributed."

A searing heat bloomed on her right wrist. She looked down to see a small, black tattoo of a Möbius strip materializing on her skin.

Acting on instinct, she focused her mind on the tattoo. The space in front of her warped, and she was sucked into a vortex of light.

She found herself standing in a pristine, white space. Her breath hitched. It was her lab. The state-of-the-art biomedical laboratory she had used back on her doomed planet, Blue Star. Every piece of equipment was exactly where it should be.

She rushed to a familiar sterile workstation, her fingers tracing the cool metal surface. A profound sense of security washed over her, a feeling she hadn't realized she'd been missing.

The lab's central computer lit up, informing her that her current access level was low. She could only use basic purification equipment and the storage space.

Halie wasn't discouraged. She knew that even with basic tools, her knowledge from a past life was enough to cause a storm in this world.

With a thought, she exited the space, returning to her trashed bedroom. The pain in her body seemed to have lessened, dulled by the surge of adrenaline and hope.

The system screen popped up again. "Please draw your first target." A deck of blurred photo cards spread across the display.

Halie randomly tapped the one on the far edge. The card flipped over, revealing the face of a man. He was hauntingly beautiful, with a chiseled jaw and silver hair, but his skin was unnaturally pale, and his eyes held a chilling emptiness.

"Target Information," the system intoned. "Coleman. S-Class male. Completely sterile due to a genetic defect. Exiled by his family to the Southern District."

Halie's memory banks churned. She realized with a jolt of dread that this Coleman was someone the original Halie had relentlessly bullied during their academy days, all to show off her own status.

She rubbed her temples, groaning in frustration. The original owner wasn't just a waste; she was an idiot who made enemies everywhere. This was a hell-difficulty start.

"Alert," the system chimed in. "Target's spiritual power is in a state of extreme instability, on the verge of a violent collapse. Host must proceed to pacify him within twelve hours, or the mission will fail and the host's genetic collapse will accelerate."

Halie opened her personal terminal, intending to check her assets and buy a ticket to the Southern District.

A glaring red notification filled the screen. All her primary accounts had been frozen by her family. Her remaining balance was a pathetic few hundred star coins.

A cold laugh escaped her. Seraphina had worked fast. The cold-blooded efficiency of the Avila family was on full display.

She turned and marched into the walk-in closet, rummaging through the original Halie's collection of luxury handbags and unopened, expensive jewelry.

Halie stuffed the gaudy, impractical items into a nondescript black duffel bag. They were her ticket to survival. She would sell them on the black market.

While clearing out a drawer, her fingers brushed against a formal-looking document. It was a military marriage matching notice, assigned by the Empire's central AI.

The groom's name was Erwin, a Major General in the military. But below his name, a stark red stamp declared that he had already filed a unilateral request for a forced dissolution of the match.

Halie stared at the arrogant red ink. Her first instinct was to tear the useless paper to shreds, but a cold, calculating light gleamed in her eyes.

"A unilateral dissolution without my signature? How convenient for you, General," she muttered, carefully folding the document and slipping it into her pocket.

It might be a useless match now, but in the political games of the capital, even a broken contract could be weaponized later. Right now, however, she had only one immediate priority: get money, get to the Southern District, and find Coleman to save her own life.

She changed into a set of practical black cargo pants and a hoodie, pulling the hood up to hide her scarred face. Hefting the heavy duffel bag, she walked out of the room without a backward glance.