My father said that he is just like Sophia, Erect's sister.
She was lactose intolerant and he too licktoes intoilet.
By toilet, he meant bathroom. Just clarifying before your brain tries to recreate that visual. You're welcome.
But before going further, I somehow keep remembering stuff :
A man and his friend had an amputee foot fetish.
They knew it was gross, but they could only cum on prosthetic legs.
Anyway, on their last threesome with an amputee, they both prematurely came on her real toes! Then they had to politely ask the girl, "Can we start over? I feel like we got off on the wrong foot."
...
Yeah. I know.
Even Satan winced at that one.
Back to the plot.
I turned to my dad with the crustiest expression my face could legally manage.
"What she said has zero overlap with what you just claimed. You basically just announced your fetish with a full government ID."
"Oh," my dad blinked. "Haha. I was just joking. It was a joke! Don't mind it."
It was absolutely not a joke.
But I'm not going to throw more brain cells into that dumpster fire.
I mean, I think men have foot fetishes because they lost their cherry to a sock.
"I see… That was… some joke," Sophia said. Her smile was so forced, it could've cracked a porcelain doll.
"That's so weird, dear. Don't joke like that," my mom said, with the same energy someone uses to scold a child who tried to marry the vacuum cleaner.
Imagine saying something so weird that even the weirdest person finds it weird. I created a tongue twister there. Nevermind.
"That's enough talking." I said. "All of you go inside the castle. The top floor is mine. Other than that, there are many rooms on other floors. Get settled there. We will have dinner together. Me and Erect will join you all soon."
"Okay. Let's go, people." Grandpa said as he marched in like a war general, the rest of my family followed like ducklings on acid.
"Take care, grandma." I said.
My grandma patted my head with a smile that could warm even a war criminal's heart.
No idea what I did to earn this love, but I'm not asking questions in case the universe changes its mind.
After my family went inside, only Sophia remained standing.
She stood in front of the castle's door, looking like she was about to be left in the middle of a horror movie.
"Don't leave me alone, Big Brother," she said. Or maybe she begged. Hard to tell when your voice is wrapped in trauma.
"We're not leaving you. We'll be back," Erect replied, but we both knew what she really meant was:
"Don't leave me with them, Big Brother."
She was terrified of being around my family unsupervised. And honestly? Valid.
"Don't worry," I told her. "They're just… uh… easygoing people. Harmless."
I said with full confidence but then I remembered how my parents almost killed me on my very first day in this world.
"But still, be careful. Maybe… lock your door. Just in case." I warned her.
"Okay." Sophia nodded, looking like she was already planning her escape route.
From inside the castle, a voice echoed:
"Sophia dear! Would you like to see dogs doing missionary?"
"AAAH! NOOOOOOOO!"
Yep. That's my family. We don't need therapy—we need a priest.
I don't know who said the dog thing, and frankly, if I investigate, I'll be cursed forever.
"What now, my lord? Are we heading out?" Erect asked.
"I don't know. I want to see each and every continent of this world. So first we will buy a world map and on the way, we will see how this country is doing. Since I am the King and all."
"That's a great idea!" Erect said, probably just relieved I wasn't proposing cannibal karaoke night.
I nodded solemnly, pretending I cared. Truth is, I only said all that to boost the word count.
MCs need to stay busy or the readers will start calling us dumb, and I'll be damned if some online gremlin in their mom's basement gets the last laugh.
(Not you, though. You're cool. You stayed this long. You're elite. But if you ever leave me... Let's not think about that.)
"Let's go." I walked ahead like I had a plotline and mental stability.
Erect walked beside me.
My stats were turned On and my armor was equipped as well.
I'm technically 18 but look like the guy your girlfriend told you not to worry about. I wish I could show you my picture... or did I already show you that? Well, if you are not living under a rock and know even a little bit of technology then you must have seen me.
Anyway, enough ego fluffing.
We strolled down the street.
I looked around and things were peaceful.
Kids playing, elderly taking a walk in the park and two dogs doing missionary.
You could only accept loyalty and such things from dogs. And instead of loyalty, Humans decided to learn sex positions from them.
Soon, we reached a store. Erect said it was a general store. Basic supplies and whatnot.
The shopkeeper was a bald dude who looked like a boiled egg marinated in sunlight.
His sweat glistened like his dreams were leaking out of his scalp.
"How can I help you, my lord?" he asked.
But I had one question.
"Do you know why bald men cut holes in their pockets?"
He blinked. "Uh… no?"
"So they can run their hands through their hair."
Silence. The kind of silence where even air molecules are side-eyeing you.
He squinted. "I didn't get it."
"It must have gone… over your head."
I am on a roll today. Two back to back.
"Just what do you want, you bast—my lord?"
The shopkeeper went through some emotions there.
Well, I won't harass him anymore. Though, I wanted to ask him how long does he take to wash his face.
I looked at Erect. He was laughing silently. That's all I need.
"Give me a map of this world. Everything should be written clearly. I want the best quality map." I finally stated my purpose.
"Oh. Sure. Sure. I will give you the best map. I will add some countries of my own for you."
"That's… not how a map works. Give me the real thing."
"I was just joking, my lord. I know how maps work. I have a good head on my shoulder."
"I don't doubt that."
With the way the sunlight was bouncing off his bald head, I swear to God he could've powered a third-world country if someone just duct-taped a solar panel up there.
Of course, I didn't say that out loud. There's no such thing as solar panels in this medieval tech-illiterate realm. Only the Aliens could have laughed at this.
Anyway, Baldy shuffled to the back of the store like a suspicious NPC doing side quests in his own game. He returned with a rolled-up map like he was handing me the blueprint to world domination.
I took it and tucked it into my spatial inventory:
[ Glory Hole ]
Yep. That's the actual name of the skill. No, I don't want to talk about it.
It stores things. And trauma. Mostly trauma.
"How much does this cost?" I asked, like someone who might pay but definitely won't.
"Oh! No, no, I can't take money from you, my lord."
"I am not giving you money either. I was just asking about the cost."
"Oh. I see. It's 10 Morals." The shopkeeper answered but he lost his smile. Man's smile died harder than my will to live during math class. He was expecting some money.
Fine.
I gave Erect a stealthy hand gesture. So stealthy not even he noticed.
I turned back to the shopkeeper, all smiles.
"Here. Don't be sad."
I stretched my hand out like a saint. The dude lit up like a Christmas tree powered by pure greed.
He reached out, all giddy. I placed the object in his palm with grace, as if it was a sacred blessing.
"It's a 10 Morals coin." I said.
The man nodded. Tightened his grip like I'd try to snatch it back.
Relax, Voldemort. I got better things to do.
"Alright, see you later." I waved like I just finished a diplomatic mission.
"Take care, my lord! May the Supreme Man bless you more!"
We walked. Peacefully. For like three seconds.
Then Erect stopped.
So naturally, I stopped too, because main characters don't walk alone unless they're about to monologue.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"My lord… I lost a button from my shirt. Something feels… wrong."
Ah yes. The ancient masculine instinct—sensing the loss of a button like it's the fall of a kingdom.
"Don't worry. Get a new shirt," I said.
"I suppose I must. But the button was just here a moment ago. Where did it go?"
I smiled. "It reached its rightful place."
Like that, we both started walking towards the castle.
———
After Racis and Erect went away from the shop.
The shopkeeper was giddy.
"Hehe… That map only cost 2 Morals. I sold it for 10. I played him like a fiddle in a prison shower. Profittt!"
He opened his palm to admire his ill-gotten gains, fantasizing about buying a new towel or maybe a hat for his glistening skull.
He saw the coin that Racis gave him. Except…
It wasn't a coin.
"It's a fucking button!"
He jerked his head towards the way where Racis had left and glared as if the road itself betrayed him.
And then, with lungs full of anguish and bald man rage, he screamed into the void:
"DON'T EVER COME HERE AGAIN, YOU HERO KING BASTARDDDD!"
———
It's me again. Hi. Still hot. Still untouchable. Still petty.
I heard him. The bald man. Of course I did.
My stats were On so all my senses are also jacked up like a rabbit on pre-workout.
I never planned on paying that guy. I'm the damn Hero King. I risk my life saving this crusty civilization. If anything, they should be paying me.
Also, dude tried to charge me five times the actual price. That map cost 2 Morals. He tried to hustle me for 10.
Both of us were villains here. But I was just more creative.
Anyway, as I was saying, my stats are On right now and all my senses are heightened to the max.
All my senses including my sixth sense as well.
And that sense was telling me that something is about to happen that would change this comedic atmosphere.
I assure you, it's not a clickbait. Something is surely going to happen.
It's real. It's near. And I hope you're still here when it comes.