A translucent panel unfolded in the air above Marcus's lap, its edges glowing faintly.
[Ultimate Father Bragging System Activated]
Core Rule:Gain rewards when your son boasts about you sincerely.
Reward Types:
Cultivation Recovery Talent Restoration Techniques Random Heavenly Treasures
Condition:Bragging must be believed. False boasting yields no reward.
Marcus stared at the last line.
Must be believed.
He glanced at the boy again—the too-thin arms, the careful hands, the instinctive fear of being a burden—and suddenly the system felt less like a joke and more like a verdict.
If the reward required belief…
…then first, someone had to give the boy a reason to believe in anything at all.
A soft chime followed.
[Beginner Task Issued]Make your son say: "My father will get better."Reward: Minor Body Recovery Pill
Marcus's gaze lingered on the words.
Simple.
Too simple.
Which meant it wasn't.
He let out a short, quiet breath and leaned back slightly against the pillow.
"…Of course," he murmured to the floating interface. "Why not?"
The boy's eyes flicked between Marcus's face and the empty air, clearly seeing nothing. "Father…? Who are you talking to?"
Marcus paused.
He could lie.
He could dismiss it.
But the boy's fear wasn't something that needed more uncertainty layered on top.
So Marcus reached out—slowly, carefully—and took the boy's wrist in a gentle grip.
"Come here," he said, voice low. "Sit."
The boy hesitated, then obeyed, perching on the edge of the cot like he expected to be pushed away at any moment.
Marcus kept his hold light.
"Listen to me."
The boy nodded.
Marcus met his eyes, steady.
"I'm going to get better."
The words settled between them.
Lin's fingers tightened slightly.
"…Father," he said softly, "you always say things like that when you're hurt."
Not accusation.
Not anger.
Just… familiarity.
Marcus didn't look away.
"Then don't believe my words," he said. "Believe what you see."
Lin froze.
Marcus continued, voice calm.
"I woke up. I'm breathing. I'm speaking clearly. That didn't happen before, did it?"
Lin hesitated.
"…No."
Marcus nodded once.
"Good."
A pause.
Then—
"Say it."
Lin blinked. "…Say what?"
"That I will get better."
Silence fell.
Lin's lips parted.
Closed.
His hands tightened around the cloth.
"…If I say it… and it doesn't happen…"
His voice dropped.
"…then what?"
Marcus felt something shift inside him.
Not irritation.
Not impatience.
Something heavier.
He softened his voice, just slightly.
"Then I'll take responsibility."
Lin looked up.
Marcus held his gaze.
"No more empty words."
The room went still.
Lin swallowed.
His voice, when it came, was small.
"…My father…"
It faltered.
Stopped.
Marcus didn't interrupt.
Didn't rush him.
Lin drew in a breath, like someone stepping onto unstable ground.
"…My father will get better."
[DING!]
The panel pulsed.
[Task Completed][Sincere Brag Detected]Reward Granted: Minor Body Recovery Pill
A warmth spread through Marcus's body.
Not violent.
Not overwhelming.
But undeniable.
The tightness in his chest loosened.
His breathing deepened.
The dull, constant ache—faded.
Marcus's eyes sharpened.
Immediate.
No delay.
No illusion.
Real.
Lin noticed first.
"…Father?"
Marcus shifted slightly.
Sat up a fraction straighter.
Without strain.
Without hesitation.
Lin's eyes widened.
"You—"
Marcus exhaled slowly.
"…I told you."
The words weren't loud.
But they carried weight.
Lin stared at him.
Not with fear.
Not with resignation.
But with something uncertain.
Something new.
"…You really…"
His voice wavered.
"…got better."
Marcus leaned back, studying him.
Not the words.
But the reaction.
The belief.
Small.
Fragile.
But real.
And that was enough.
The system panel flickered once, then dimmed.
Marcus let out a quiet breath.
"…So that's how it works."
Not force.
Not lies.
But something far more difficult.
He turned his gaze back to Lin.
"Are you hungry?"
Lin blinked, caught off guard.
"…We have a little rice."
"Then we'll eat."
Lin hesitated.
"…You should eat first."
Marcus shook his head slightly.
"We'll eat together."
Lin froze.
As if the idea itself was unfamiliar.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"…Okay."
He stood and moved toward the door—still careful, still quiet—but not quite as small as before.
Marcus watched him go.
Then glanced once more at the fading interface.
Gain rewards when your son boasts about you sincerely.
His eyes steadied.
"…If that's the rule," he murmured.
His voice dropped—calm, deliberate.
"…then I'll become the kind of father he can believe in."