Chapter Five: The Reward

After finishing its meal, Big White scanned its spotless food bowl, then cautiously backed away, ready to play with its ball.

Washing dishes—what was that supposed to mean?

It didn’t understand. Hadn’t it already licked everything clean?

So it thought, only to be met with another jolt of bioelectric punishment.

Seeing Big White’s white fur stand on end, and the poor creature gazing at him pitifully, Fan Bei could only shrug, helpless.

Ever since overcoming the corruption, this fellow actually understood everything, but took advantage of its canine identity, feigning ignorance whenever a task was inconvenient or tiring.

Of course, it was reliable when it mattered—such as protecting its master, which had become almost instinctive.

Big White had no choice but to obediently go to the secondary bathroom to wash its own dog bowl, turning on the faucet and rinsing it thoroughly.

That was not the end. The next task awaited—holding the mop in its mouth, it mopped the entire living room, which it considered its domain.

Watching Big White complete each task in the chain he’d personally arranged, one after another, Fan Bei finally felt at ease.

He had worried before that Big White was just a dog and might not know how to do certain tasks. Now, it seemed its potential was impressive.

The crisis of evil spirits invading was a disaster for humanity, but for other forms of life, it was an opportunity.

The tasks he assigned were all things he usually did himself. Big White had watched him countless times, though watching was one thing and doing was another.

Now, things were different. Under the guidance of the system’s tasks, with rewards and punishments, the “Heavenly Dog” System was not fooled by mere cuteness. Big White had no choice but to comply.

That afternoon, Big White completed the walking task, push-ups, and even imitated Fan Bei’s earlier meditation, practicing meditation on its own…

Throughout this chain of tasks, it frequently cast pleading glances at Fan Bei.

Fan Bei pretended not to see, retreating to his master bedroom, stretching out comfortably on his bed, and opening the book “Father of Systems” to study it carefully.

He needed to summarize his experiences in detail, so he could make even better systems next time.

Upon seeing the latest three entries in the system log, he had a crucial insight.

“Big White attempted to practice ‘Nameless Meditation Technique’ (incomplete), failed, current training experience +2.”

“Big White practiced grabbing the iron ball, succeeded, acquired the skill ‘Basic Dog Claw’.”

“Big White practiced biting the iron ball, succeeded, acquired the skill ‘Basic Bite’.”

His heart stirred. Flipping back to the first page—the page on “System Creation”—he discovered that the creation template now included two additional initial skill choices: “Basic Dog Claw” and “Basic Bite.”

Thinking further, he realized he could also grant his own “Nameless Meditation Technique” to any system he built.

He instantly reached a conclusion: as long as he kept iterating like this, he could create ever more powerful systems.

And as the “Father of Systems,” he would possess all the skills that they cultivated and comprehended.

This, he realized, was the true way to use the “Father of Systems.”

Researching and cultivating alone, gathering resources, and deducing techniques—how could that compare to letting a host of geniuses create chaos together?

Big White might be a bit silly, but among dogs, it was a genius… Even its mopping now looked quite decent.

Just then, a line of red text floated across the page.

“Warning: The host of the ‘Heavenly Dog’ System, Big White, is overly fatigued. Excessive electric shocks have caused severe resistance toward the system.”

“Critical Warning: Big White is showing serious signs of detachment from the ‘Heavenly Dog’ System. Creator, please intervene immediately.”

“Uh…” Fan Bei was speechless. As expected, nobody is truly foolish; if all you do is demand and never reward, it will not work.

Moreover, as a dog, Big White’s perspective was limited. If it were a person, their endurance would be much greater—after all, just obtaining a system meant that so long as they didn’t act recklessly, reaching the pinnacle was inevitable.

Not to mention these minor tasks—even with the threat of erasure, they wouldn’t try to unbind the system…

After some thought, Fan Bei pulled a large box out from under his bed and rummaged through it, finally producing a white wooden carving of a puppy.

This wooden puppy, a little rough in craftsmanship, bore every chisel mark with care. Some places even had faint traces of blood.

He remembered clearly: it was carved every evening by a kind, simple middle-aged man who maintained the generator room, planning to give it to his son as a birthday present in a month.

He recalled it so clearly because he had interacted with the man often, learning much about maintenance from him.

Having lived two lives, Fan Bei had always been prepared for contingencies. As the population dwindled, he naturally learned the necessary skills to keep the shelter running.

Sadly, this precious birthday gift would never be delivered. Both the giver and the recipient were gone from this world.

He hoped they might, like him, start anew in another world.

So this birthday present would serve as advance payment for helping settle their lingering grievances.

With a sigh, Fan Bei silently thought “store” in his mind.

The wooden puppy vanished instantly.

At the moment, “Father of Systems” was so impoverished that he couldn’t offer any real treasures, only these physical items as makeshift rewards.

Fan Bei then turned to the second page, the “Heavenly Dog” system. With a thought, the “Task Guidance” section appeared.

He attempted to add a temporary task.

However, another prompt flashed across the page.

“After system distribution, for the creator to perform post-release maintenance, the power held by the ‘Father of Systems’ must surpass that of the system’s host. Each maintenance consumes varying amounts of mental energy based on the power gap.”

Fan Bei frowned, then suddenly understood.

So, raising a system was just like raising a child.

Before it’s born, you make all the decisions. But after birth, especially as it grows, if you’re not strong enough, good luck getting it to listen…

Reflecting on his inexperience, he fetched more toys, preparing to do all the maintenance in one go. After all, this was his first time “having a child”—no, creating a system.

Beforehand, he’d been focused on conserving mental energy, omitting as many task rewards as possible, only to find that post-release maintenance required even more energy.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too much—Big White was still a weak dog. Not only was it no match for the mysterious “Book of Systems,” even he himself could overpower it, so long as Big White didn’t use its teeth or claws…

Sure enough, after Fan Bei finished distributing a series of reward tasks, he’d only used up 50 points of mental energy. Even so, he felt a pang of regret—out of his previous 1,000 points, only 950 remained. With a daily expenditure of 100 and only 3.2 coming in, it would be impossible to sustain for long.

“In recognition of the host’s consecutive task completion and excellent performance, a toy is awarded…”

As the system log updated, Big White’s delighted barking echoed from outside the bedroom.

“Warning lifted. ‘Heavenly Dog’ system host is now developing dependence on the system.”

At present, with only Big White as his available subject, Fan Bei could only compromise. But in the future, with a sufficient pool of candidates, things would be very different for those who came after.

Never before had he so keenly desired to connect with the outside world.

Issuing systems didn’t necessarily require personal delivery. He believed, given the marvels of the “Father of Systems,” that remote distribution was an essential function.