He's Not Worth It

Three years I've spent trying to save the resident gloomy villain, and his darkness score is still maxed out.
He won't talk to me. Won't let me get close.
Every gift I give him, he cuts to shreds and throws away.
But when the story's heroine appeared, he was the one blushing, head bowed, offering her a piece he'd poured his soul into.
That was when I finally gave up hope.
I found the heroine and laid my cards on the table.
"I'm planning on leaving the country," I told her.
"From now on, could you take Matt Croft into your family's care?"

1
Matt had run away from home again.
It was the third time this month.
After a whole afternoon of searching with no leads, I reluctantly had to summon the System, who was supposed to be on vacation. Being dragged back to work on your day off would sour anyone's mood, and the System was no exception.
The moment it materialized, it launched into a tirade.
"Are you kidding me, Summer? You have got to be the worst Host I have ever seen!"
"It's been this long, and Matt's darkness score is still off the charts?"
"Can you please, for the love of god, tell me how you managed to make him hate you this much?"
I lowered my head in shame.
The System was right.
I was useless.
Three whole years.
The word Matt had said to me more than any other was "hate."
He hated seeing me.
Hated talking to me.
Hated me being anywhere near him.
Hate, hate, hate…
Maybe it was the miserable look on my face, but the System’s tone softened slightly. It sent an address to my phone.
"Here," it said, its voice calmer. "He's at this location."
"Don't worry too much. It's not like he's going to disappear for good."
"Let me just run a quick diagnostic on his current emotional state—"
The System paused. A moment later, its voice was filled with confusion.
"What the hell?"
"Why did Matt's heart rate just skyrocket? His darkness score is plummeting!"
"This… This is the signature of attraction, isn't it?"

2
The System told me Matt must have met someone incredibly important, someone extraordinary to him.
By the time I rushed over, more than half an hour had passed. The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.
I found Matt sitting in an old gazebo tucked behind a rock garden on the estate, his sketchbook resting on his lap as he drew with intense focus.
And standing beside him was a girl with a high ponytail.
She was wearing a simple white dress, looking cute and vibrant. Every few moments, she would let out a gasp of admiration.
"Oh my god, this composition is absolutely flawless."
"I'm an art student too, and I can tell you right now, you're a genius!"
"Where do you go to school?"
"My mentor is on the board of the European Art Association. I could recommend you to him, you know!"
"And of course, I know plenty of professors at the top art schools here in the States. They would all be blown away by your talent!"
…
A genius?
Yes. I knew that from the day I accepted this mission.
Matt Croft was, without a doubt, a genius. The kind of once-in-a-generation painter whose exhibitions could ignite the artistic soul of an entire city, whose most casual doodle could fetch a fortune at auction.
But this was also the same person who showed signs of autism from a young age, which by his teenage years had morphed into an atypical form of bipolar disorder.
Sometimes he was manic and anxious. Other times, he was consumed by a deep, depressive gloom, capable of not speaking a word for days on end.
Then, in high school, disaster struck. The Croft family's corporation faced a sudden economic crisis and was on the brink of bankruptcy. Matt's parents had died in an accident shortly after he was born, leaving only his elderly grandfather to manage the vast family enterprise.
The old man couldn't withstand the pressure. He suffered a stroke that landed him in the hospital. Before he passed, he used the last of the family's assets to hire a caretaker for his grandson—someone to look after Matt's daily life and his fragile mental state.
He also entrusted this caretaker with one final task: to find a real estate mogul by the name of Miller. Mr. Miller was an old friend, a brother-in-arms from their youth to whom his grandfather owed his life. The Miller family had moved abroad years ago, and they had somehow lost touch.
"But he'll remember," Matt's grandfather had said, his voice a ragged whisper. "Our grandchildren, Emily and Matt, they even had a childhood engagement pact."
"With the Croft family in such dire straits… I can only ask them to take Matt in and look after him for a while."

3
The System's voice buzzed in my ear.
"Host."
"I'm sure you've figured it out by now, right?"
"The girl in the white dress standing next to our young villain is the heroine who just returned to the country."
"Emily Miller."
Yeah. I'd figured.
Because the heroine, Emily, was an art student.
In the original story, the caretaker the Croft family hired was no good. He was a two-faced grifter, skimming from the top, and treated Matt horribly. When the Croft empire finally crumbled, he took the money and ran, leaving the already psychologically fragile teenager stranded and alone in the middle of nowhere.
As for finding the Miller family? He never even tried.
Matt suffered immensely after that. He couldn't even afford to stay in school. He worked odd jobs, saved every penny, only to be scammed and beaten, even having one of his legs broken.
Finally, he met a true mentor, a brilliant art professor at a university. His talent was discovered, and he clawed his way up from the very bottom… only then did he become the revered artist everyone knew.
By that time, the heroine had already become a rising star in the design world.
And at last, Matt finally met Emily Miller. He learned about the childhood engagement pact. But by then, looking at his own scarred and broken body, he no longer had the courage to pursue her.
In the story's tragic conclusion, on the eve of Emily's wedding to another man, Matt leaped from the roof of a skyscraper.
His suicide note read:
My life was ruined by that caretaker. If only he had found Emily back then, my life could have been perfect, without a single regret.

4
To change Matt's fate, I took the place of that corrupt caretaker when I entered this world.
In this reset timeline, Matt's grandfather met me at the orphanage where I grew up and sponsored my education. When he passed away, he left me a portion of his remaining assets and begged me to look after his grandson.
So, I began to take care of Matt with every ounce of effort I had.
He didn't know how to manage money, so I opened a bank account in his name, researching investment strategies to make his grandfather's inheritance last as long as possible.
His mental state was fragile, so I devoured books on psychology and took him to see specialists.
He loved to paint. I, a STEM major who knew nothing about art, dragged myself to nearly a hundred exhibitions in a single year, all for the slim hope of having something to talk to him about.
…
But even with all that, Matt's attitude towards me remained cold and dismissive. It was as if no matter how hard I tried, he would never let me into his world.
Even during his manic episodes, he'd rather smash everything in sight than let me bring him his medication in the studio.
The reason was simple: I didn't understand art.
He didn't want a boring, mundane person like me trespassing in his creative sanctuary.
But now…
His attitude toward the heroine was completely different.
He listened intently to her opinions on his work, slowly articulating his own thoughts in return.
When Matt finished the piece, he carefully removed it from his sketchbook.
He held it out to Emily, an offering.
The tips of his ears were tinged with red.
"Can I… Can I get your number?" he stammered. "My name is… Matt. Matt Croft."
Emily paused for a second. As she pulled out her phone, she tilted her head and scratched her nose thoughtfully.
"Huh?" she said. "You know… I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before."

5
In the original story, the heroine had her own destined partner. Even when she met Matt again later in life, her feelings for him never went beyond friendship.
That's why the System's mission wasn't for me to deliver Matt to Emily. It was for me to guide him away from the main characters, to reshape his personality outside the confines of the original plot and change his tragic ending.
But now…
I think I might have messed things up.
Matt had met the heroine ahead of schedule. And it seemed to be love at first sight.
The System started screaming in my ear.
"Go get that dark-hearted brat back here, you useless block of wood!"
"If you just stand there spacing out any longer, Emily's radiance will only make him hate you more, you idiot!"
Right, right.
I was supposed to drag Matt back.
I sighed, bracing myself. I walked over and stood between him and Emily, gently tapping Matt's shoulder.
"Matt," I said softly. "There you are. Let's go home, okay?"
"I've been looking for you all afternoon. I made dinner. Aren't you hungry?"

6
The moment he saw me, the faint smile on Matt's face vanished, replaced by an icy mask. His lips pressed into a thin, hard line as he shot me a look of pure annoyance, his brow furrowing deeply.
It was Emily who spoke, her tone surprisingly warm. She turned to me, her eyes blinking with curiosity.
"You know Matt? Are you two friends? Do you have a date tonight or something?"
I was about to answer when Matt cut me off sharply.
"No!"
His voice was laced with an urgency, as if he couldn't distance himself from me fast enough.
"She's not my friend. She's just the hired help," he spat. "Just some kid my grandfather picked up from an orphanage."
"She's nobody."
…
As the words hung in the air, I heard the System suck in a sharp, embarrassed breath. Even Emily looked taken aback, shifting uncomfortably. She shot me an apologetic glance before looking at her watch, trying to smooth things over.
"Does being the hired help mean she can't be your friend?" she said, her voice gentle but firm. "What's with the high-and-mighty tone? Besides, she's been looking for you all afternoon. You should at least let someone know when you go out."
"Don't do that again. You'll make her job much harder than it needs to be!"
Her voice was so kind. Even her scolding was laced with warmth, making it impossible to be angry.
She really was the heroine. She'd extend her kindness even to a complete stranger like me.
And thanks to her, Matt, who had been teetering on the edge of a manic episode, visibly calmed down. He lowered his head and quietly began packing his things.
Slinging his art portfolio over his shoulder, he threw a glare my way.
"What are you staring at?" he muttered, striding ahead. "You're the one who wanted to go back so badly."

7
If I hadn't shown up, Matt and Emily could have spent more time together. Naturally, his animosity towards me deepened.
On the way back, he deliberately kept his distance, his voice dripping with contempt as he questioned me.
"You looked for me all afternoon?"
"Summer, how are you always so free? Don't you have a life of your own?"
"I know my grandfather left you a salary, but there wasn't that much money left. It can't be worth you dedicating your entire existence to this job..."
"Look at that girl back there. She has her own passions, her own talent."
"Not like you. All you do is hover around people, like a pathetic little shadow. It's so damn annoying."
…
I kept my head down, unable to find the words to defend myself.
Before the car accident that led me to the System, I was just an ordinary person. Now, in this world, I wasn't part of the main cast, had no special abilities, and no family. My college tuition came from the inheritance my grandfather left for Matt's care.
And even then, I had to endure his scorn.
The System chose that moment to twist the knife.
"Host."
"Matt's darkness score just went up again."
"His mood was perfectly stable when he was with the heroine…"
"Looks like she makes him a lot happier than you do!"
—It was obvious, really.
But if the heroine could soothe him better than I ever could, then what was the point of a disposable NPC like me?
The Miller family was already looking for Matt anyway, now that they knew about the Crofts' bankruptcy. If I just delivered him to Emily, wouldn't that solve everyone's problems?
Once the thought took root, it was impossible to shake.
I ran to catch up with Matt, grabbing his sleeve.
"Matt," I asked, my voice direct.
"If I quit this job, if I wasn't around anymore… would you be happier if someone else took care of you?"
It was a stupid question, I know. I've never been good with words.
He looked down at me, his expression turning cold and hard. After a long moment, he let out a bitter, mocking laugh.
"Summer, are you insane?" he sneered. "Who do you think you are? Someone irreplaceable?"
"If you want to leave, then leave. Get out right now."
"I don't need you."

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