Chapter 1: Simp Mission Countdown

None of them loved me. But that didn’t matter. At least, that’s what I told myself. Feelings are for closers, right?

After all, I was just doing it to complete the system’s mission.

Once the mission was finished, I’d take my reward and walk away, completely satisfied. Or so I kept telling myself.

But in the end, they were the ones who’d regret it. Not me. Never me.

I guess you could call me a professional people-pleaser—except my clients are four women who’d rather eat glass than have lunch with me.

The system told me: the more I simp, the more I earn.

So even though all four targets dislike me, are disgusted by me, insult me, and look down on me, I never get upset.

To me, they’re just walking paychecks.

And now, there’s only one week left before my simp mission ends.

Time to wrap things up.

The cicadas outside were screaming like they’d bet money on it, and sweat pooled at the small of my back. Welcome to Savannah. A deep Southern summer hangs outside my window, but even the muggy air can’t dull the sense of anticipation building up in me. In the U.S., you learn to hustle—no matter how the world looks at you. For me, it’s just another gig, even if the job description is a little… unconventional. I check the countdown on my phone, feel a tiny thrill—one more week, and I’m out. The American Dream, right?