Conquering the Stars and My Haters’ Hearts - Chapter 1

Xie Anning was beaten awake. Fist after fist collided with his flesh, the pain reaching an agonizing peak.

His mouth was sealed shut with duct tape, leaving him unable to even scream.

A beautiful youth wearing the Alva High School uniform looked down at him through a holographic screen. “Did you really think you were still the young master of the Xie family? As a low-life from the slums, you should look in the mirror. With a disgusting face like yours, how dare you harbor a crush on Ning Xiujin?”

As if remembering something, the youth gestured to his lackeys. One stepped hard onto Xie Anning’s slender ankle, grinding down. The youth chuckled softly, “I forgot—someone like you can’t even afford a mirror anymore.”

A sickening crack echoed from his ankle. Held down firmly by five people, Anning couldn’t resist. The more he struggled, the harder the boy stepped. His captors were all students in the same uniform, following the youth’s lead like a pack of wolves.

The school bell rang. Finally willing to let him go, the group threw out a final warning: “Xie Anning, if we catch you within fifty meters of Ning Xiujin again, don’t ever dream of crawling back to school.”

“A piece of trash like you only exists to disgust people.”

What the hell is going on?

Anning remembered working on a manuscript until 4:00 AM when a sudden, stabbing pain hit his heart. Everything had gone black. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was the wail of an ambulance.

[This is the future.]

[Host, you suffered a sudden cardiac death last night. After being bound to the ‘Male God Cultivation System,’ you were transported to this world.]

Suddenly, a massive flood of memories surged into his mind.

In this future world, mechas and superpowers were the norm. Aside from intelligence, the most critical metric for a person’s talent was Mental Strength.

The original owner of this body was a “trash” with E-grade Mental Strength.

Normally, this wouldn’t have mattered much. As the youngest son of the prestigious Xie family head, he was doted on by his parents and protected fiercely by his older brother.

His brother, Xie Linxi, was a “freak” with SS-grade Mental Strength—a Brigadier General at twenty-eight and the youngest general in the history of the Empire. Because of this protection, even though the original Xie Anning was sensitive, socially anxious, and ranked dead last in his class, he was surrounded by suitors.

His brother’s influence had even secured him an engagement with a major noble family. By the time the original owner’s lack of talent was discovered, it was too late for the other party to back out without offending the Xie family.

But that glory vanished in a matter of months. His parents died in an accident, and shortly after, his brother was swallowed by a sudden black hole storm. Without his protectors, Anning was driven out of the family like a stray dog.

He lacked strength, knowledge, and even basic life skills due to his pampered upbringing. To make matters worse, his fiancé officially broke off the engagement. That was the final straw. Despair and darkness took over.

In the midst of being bullied at the academy, the school idol—an A+ talent named Ning Xiujin—had passed by. Frowning in displeasure, Ning Xiujin’s presence alone had scared the bullies away. The original Anning was starstruck.

From then on, he harbored a secret crush. He never dared to speak of it, but his roommate caught a lingering look Anning gave a video of Ning Xiujin’s speech and leaked the “scandal” to the school forums.

He became the laughingstock of the campus.

Ning Xiujin’s friend, Anders—the youth from the holographic screen—had ordered his lackeys to drag Anning from his dorm to the restrooms for a brutal beating. In this aristocratic school, unless your grades were god-tier, a “commoner” student had no voice.

What a miserable life, Anning thought.

Wincing, he peeled the tape off his mouth and crawled up. Fortunately, the restrooms in this futuristic school were spotless and equipped with basic first-aid facilities.

After haphazardly treating his wounds, he splashed cold water on his face to clear his head. When he looked up, he froze.

The mirror reflected a stunningly beautiful face. His long bangs, which usually hid his eyes, were wet and slicked back, revealing exquisite features. His pale complexion gave him an air of melancholic elegance. It was the kind of beauty that made people instinctively want to protect him.

With a face like this, how could he have been rejected and bullied?

Memories flickered: the original owner, crippled by social anxiety, had intentionally grown his hair long and slouched to hide himself. It was his only sense of security.

Anning sighed. With that family background, why be insecure about E-grade talent? No matter how much people gossiped, they could only watch in envy as a “trash” lived a life they could never afford.

He activated his personal terminal to check his finances. His screen was immediately flooded with school notifications: if he didn’t pass his make-up exams next week, he would be expelled.

He swiped the notifications away and checked his balance.

A bright red, three-digit number stared back at him.

Forget the exams—he couldn’t even afford the five-digit tuition fee for next semester. He didn’t even know if he’d survive the month on this.

[A reminder: Since a vast amount of energy was used to repair your Mental Strength talent, please work hard to complete tasks. Otherwise, the system may enter hibernation, and the Host’s body may suffer unexpected ‘accidents.’

Including death.] The system’s voice was like ice on a cold day.

“Wait, repair? Wasn’t the original talent E-grade?”

[The original body possessed S-grade talent. It was suppressed by external means, which resulted in the ‘E-grade’ reading.]

[However, while your Mental Strength has been restored, your physical body is too weak. Currently, you can only exert C-grade Mental Strength.]

Anning’s eyes widened. E-grade was essentially useless, but C-grade was that of an average citizen. And with physical training, the future was limitless!

His expression darkened. Suppressed mental strength? His parents’ deaths might not have been an accident after all. He was supposed to inherit his brother’s title and live comfortably even without the Xie family, but the current head of the family had used his E-grade status as an excuse to let an A-grade cousin take his place.

They were bold because they thought he was a useless waste who could never fight back.

But right now, he had no power to take down the giant that was the Xie family. Survival came first.

“System, what are these tasks you mentioned?”

[The criteria for becoming a ‘Male God’ is ‘Popularity Points.’ Once you reach certain milestones, you can draw rewards, including talents and space-time items. Please do your best!]

Popularity? Anning breathed a sigh of relief. Back on Earth, he had been a “minor god” in the web novel world. While not at the level of the top-tier authors, he was a constant top-five fixture on the monthly charts with a massive fanbase.

[Triggering Novice Task 1: Gain 10,000 Popularity Points within three days. Reward: One gacha pull.]

“What? Three days!”

Even if he started writing immediately, how could a new author gain 10,000 fans without promotion or exposure?

Panic-stricken, he searched his terminal for information on this world. Finally, he found a lead: Livestreaming.

With the advancement of technology, holographic games were everywhere, followed by a massive surge in streaming platforms. In this world, everyone played games. Even those who couldn’t afford holographic pods could play via their terminals.

The most popular title was a mecha game: Interstellar Invasion.

It was famous because the mecha data was provided by the Empire itself, making it incredibly realistic. Players used it to enjoy the game, but also to train their mental strength and piloting skills. Some schools even required it.

This game was practically made for him. His restored mental strength couldn’t be fully utilized in the real world yet, but in a virtual environment, it could be perfectly replicated.

Xie Anning opened the largest livestreaming site and was momentarily stunned. The top-tier streamers for this game boasted audiences in the billions.

Then again, considering the galactic population, it makes sense, he thought. The people at that level are probably legends in the real world too. He didn’t dare dream of those numbers yet; he just needed to hit the System’s target and scrape together his first pot of gold.

Driven by necessity, Anning dragged his aching body out of the school and headed to the nearest net café. He didn’t own a holographic pod, let alone streaming gear, but a futuristic net café provided everything for a price.

Wincing at the cost, he drained the remaining balance on his terminal and donned the holographic helmet.

Xie Anning launched his stream with a provocatively bold title: “Climbing to #1 in this Sector within 3 Months.”

Interstellar Invasion divided its massive player base into sectors based on star systems. At the end of each year, the top ten players from each sector represented their home system in a high-stakes, cross-galaxy tournament. It was a game that truly lived up to the word “Invasion”—pure, cold-blooded competition.

Anning’s sector had ranked 53rd last year—solidly middle of the pack. Even so, the talent pool was immense, with nearly a billion players in his sector alone.

Ranking first was, for all intents and purposes, an impossible mission.

But Anning didn’t care. The title was pure clickbait to lure in an audience. To complete his mission, he was willing to sacrifice a little “moral integrity”—not that he had much to begin with.

For safety, he kept his camera off to avoid recognition and registered a new account. He chose the handle “Call Me Daddy,” a name perfectly calculated to match the arrogant energy of his stream title. He left the task of masking his IP and privacy to the System.

He queued for a Ranked Match, and the game began.

The format was a 2vs2 team battle. Set in a randomized map, the goal was simple: eliminate both opponents. As long as one teammate remained standing, it was a victory.

Veteran players usually spent “Game Points” to buy superior mechas and gear before a match. High-rollers could even spend real credits to pick their favorite maps.

Xie Anning, however, was penniless. He was forced to use the System Default Model—a clunky, ancient mecha that had long been rendered obsolete by the passing eras. Even the cheapest “Half-Month Trial Card” for a modern suit cost only 30 credits—pockets change for most, but a fortune Anning didn’t have.

The first comment flickered across the stream chat, sharp and mocking:

[User7742]: What the hell? “Number one in three months”? I clicked in thinking some pro was smurfing. It’s just a middle-schooler skipping class. LMAO, playing Ranked in a default model? You’re dreaming. It’ll take you three years just to get out of Bronze. Take “Daddy’s” advice: go back to school. You can’t afford this game.

Anning ignored it. He gingerly manipulated the controls to take a few steps. Being his first time, the movement was clunky; his mecha stumbled and nearly face-planted.

A few more curious viewers clicked in just in time to see the blunder.

[MechaLover]: Hahahaha! Is this a comedy stream?

[VoidWalker]: I’ve seen bad streamers, but I’ve never seen one who literally forgot how to walk. Change the title to “Climbing to Dead Last.” You’ll attract more losers who relate to you.

[NoobSlayer]: Seriously, my five-year-old brother plays better than this. Stop insulting middle-schoolers!

Anning had disabled pop-up notifications after the first comment, so he was blissfully unaware of the roasting. He was too busy adjusting to the surreal sensation of the virtual world.

He noticed something incredible: the Mental Strength that felt stifled and heavy in the real world was flowing through the neural link with total freedom. With a single thought, his “vision” extended across the digital landscape, capturing distant details with crystalline clarity. He felt that if he pushed harder, he could sense things miles away.

So, this is Mental Strength, Anning thought, his interest deepening. Incredible.

Meanwhile, his randomly matched teammate, a player named “Autumn Waters,” noticed his partner—the guy with the ridiculous name “Call Me Daddy”—was stomping around in the open without a care for cover.

The mecha couldn’t even walk straight. A total scrub, Autumn Waters thought, his annoyance peaking. Great, I got matched with a kid. This match is already over.