My Superpower Is Piloting Magical Girl Corpses?

Lin Guang's tone held no fluctuation at all, as if he were saying "for dinner"—utterly matter-of-fact.

"Huh?"

Xia Yao widened her eyes, her lips parting as she let out a short snort through her nose.

Even she had never heard Lin Guang say something like that before.

...By the way, what's with the Ultra ○ thing.

Lin Guang picked up his chopsticks and stirred the egg mixture, the metal chopsticks striking the porcelain bowl with a steady crisp clack. He did not look at Xia Yao, he simply added a calm, seemingly objective analysis:

"This is the primary option. First, it's strong enough; the lower bound is already very high, and the upper bound is unimaginably high. It also often carries a strong idealistic trait."

"A masked ○ warrior is also an option, reasons similar to Ultra ○."

"As for piloting a giant robot, that's not impossible… but it must be piloted solo. Personally, I'm opposed to the Super Sentai-style setup, since that usually requires five people to team up, which not only reduces single-combat efficiency but also creates huge interpersonal communication costs."

He paused, then said, "So three-person setups like Gai○ and the Creation Saint's ○ Angel are out too."

"……"

"Of course, if a fantasy system exists where effort reliably increases strength and there are clear tier demarcations, that's even better, but that implies a far more brutal world ecology…"

Xia Yao watched him, watching that face seriously weigh the pros and cons of things she'd never heard anywhere else, and felt her brain short-circuit a little.

Is this guy serious?

Is his head really okay?

That was her first reaction.

Normally, someone saying things like this is probably joking, or else suffers from chuunibyou.

But Lin Guang was different. He was preparing dinner while speaking fluently, without an ounce of joking on his face. That expression, which treated the absurd as self-evident, oddly became persuasive and magnetic, pulling Xia Yao's attention and focus in hard.

Maybe my head's a little off too?

She shook her head vigorously, then reached out to poke Lin Guang's forehead while he cooked, but his movements were bizarrely fast and she couldn't land a poke no matter how she tried.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't make the magical girl incarnation the straight man in this comedy!"

"Putting aside that I don't understand but somehow appreciate the high requirements, how can you be sure this world even has those messy things, and why do you think you'll be the chosen one?"

Without stopping his stirring, Lin Guang watched the egg mixture swirl in the bowl, his voice steady and certain:

"Because I am the chosen one."

This was not arrogance, nor was it a joke.

Lin Guang was completely serious.

For Lin Guang, who had crossed over, this formed a necessary logical closure for survival.

If this world had no extraordinaries, then his crossing would be false—his current breath, thoughts, and the soul and memories from another world would be nothing but cortical pathology, hysteria, and delusion; it would be a complete denial of his past life.

That would mean he had always been trapped in this world, this ordinary, mundane planet without any miracles.

Lin Guang absolutely, absolutely, absolutely refused to accept that fact.

He firmly believed this world was extraordinary.

Only then could his crossing make sense logically, only then would his past life not be a vaporous illusion.

So…

This world must have extraordinaries.

Lin Guang absolutely and certainly believed that.

Xia Yao looked at him; the retort she had ready stuck in her throat and her cheeks inexplicably warmed.

When Lin Guang said those words, that somewhat expressionless handsome face showed, under the light, a resoluteness she could not look away from.

The girl poked his abdomen; it felt solid, she could feel the muscle contours under her fingers.

She understood something.

Because of that near-obsessive belief in being the chosen one, orphaned Lin Guang lived such a disciplined life.

Oh my… a little infatuating, actually.

Xia Yao's smile grew harder to suppress.

Lin Guang turned on the gas stove, the flame licking the bottom of the pan. "You should go home."

"No way!" Xia Yao immediately matched his train of thought. "Prepare a dinner for Miss Xia Yao… the mission reward is generous!"

That was indeed the most efficient way to communicate with Lin Guang. He nodded slightly. "As long as you don't mind chicken breast."

"What! I've been dieting for my figure, okay? Don't look down on me!"

Lin Guang paused, then showed a look of pity.

—No wonder even at eighteen the breasts are still so small.

........

They ate quickly.

Although Xia Yao kept complaining about dieting, faced with a bland poached chicken breast with barely any salt, she still ate reluctantly. The only thing she devoured with pleasure was a bowl of perfectly steamed eggs—smooth, no bubbles, just the right doneness—which she scraped clean, then generously tipped Lin Guang several hundred yuan.

After sending off the noisy miss, the room fell silent again.

Lin Guang efficiently cleaned up the aftermath, washed, and went straight to sit on the sagging old sofa in the living room.

Night had fully fallen. He did not turn on the main light, leaving only the old tungsten bulb overhead.

The filament whispered faintly, scattering a ring of yellowish, murky light that barely lit a corner of the coffee table.

Lin Guang sat quietly, the line between light and shadow cutting right across him, slicing him into two halves—one bathed in yellow light, the other swallowed by dense shadow.

He liked this setting.

Dimness and stillness, and that heavy security door that shut out the outside clamor like a tide—sensory interference was minimized, and his thinking efficiency peaked.

This was a form of meditation, a way to control himself.

For Lin Guang, physical training was the foundation for bearing strength, but the mental training component might mean even more.

Without matching control and will, the mightiest power is only an uncontrollable beast.

So, even if the world's mysterious veil had never lifted a corner for him, Lin Guang remained perpetually prepared.

And the reason he had kept this monk-like discipline for ten years straight was not just to close the logical loop, but for that unknown possibility.

Since he had miraculously crossed into this world, the gears of fate might begin to turn at any moment.

So as long as he was alive, as long as he breathed, preparation could not stop.

Maybe the next moment?

Ding—

A crisp notification sound, audible only to Lin Guang, exploded deep in his mind without warning.

The half of his face in shadow twitched slightly along the eyelashes as he opened his eyes.

In the void, a line of pale-blue translucent text materialized out of thin air, overlaying the scene of the old coffee table.

[System charging complete.]

[The "Strongest Hero System" has been activated.]

[Would you like to claim the newbie gift pack?]

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