[Failure Penalty Administered: Acute Testicular Torsion (Duration: 3 minutes)]
A supernova of agony exploded between my legs. My entire body convulsed, curling inward like a dying spider.
"Fuck—FUCK—"
The pain twisted deeper, coiling around my groin like barbed wire being slowly, methodically tightened. My vision narrowed to a pinprick, everything beyond the agony fading to irrelevance.
This wasn't right. This wasn't how pain worked for me. I'd been stabbed before, twice in the shoulder, once in the thigh. I'd had three fingers broken during an interrogation gone sideways. I knew pain. I understood pain. Pain was an old friend.
But this? This was nuclear annihilation between my legs.
"System!" I croaked. "What the fuck is happening?"
[Penalty in progress. 2:43 remaining.]
The burning text floated in my vision, mocking me. Memories flashed through my mind. T cool press of a glass tumbler against my lips, eighteen-year-old Yamazaki whiskey sliding down my throat. I remembered the solid weight of my custom Beretta, its grip inlaid with mother-of-pearl. The feel of my silk tie, knotted perfectly at my throat as I stood in my penthouse overlooking the New York skyline.
Those memories crashed against the present reality. This weak, trembling body curled on a floor that reeked of stale chips and unwashed laundry.
I forced my eyes open, blinking away tears. The room came into hazy focus. It was a teenager's bedroom, but not the kind where anything productive or healthy had ever happened. Fast food wrappers formed small mountain ranges across every surface. The walls were plastered with posters of wide-eyed anime girls in poses that made them look both twelve and thirty-two at the same time.
"Jesus," I wheezed, trying to push myself up.
My hands splayed across the carpet, and I stared at them in horror. They weren't my hands. My hands were tanned, strong, with a knife scar across the right knuckles. These were pale, pudgy, with bitten nails and what looked like Cheeto dust ground into the creases.
I crawled toward the desk where a computer monitor sat dark and lifeless. In its black surface, I could just make out my reflection.
No. Not my reflection. Someone else's.
A round face stared back at me, cheeks plump and glistening with oil. Greasy red hair hung in lank strings over thick-lensed glasses. Double chin. Pasty skin. The face of a kid who'd never known sunlight or exercise or the respect of another human being.
"Not possible," I gasped. "Not fucking possible."
[Penalty in progress. 1:17 remaining.]
The pain pulsed with renewed fury, as if the System was punishing my denial. I collapsed again, biting down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. This had to be a nightmare, a hallucination. The last thing I remembered was choking on my own rage as I ranted about those fucking light novels, the one where the pathetic loser protagonist somehow got all the girls...
Oh no.
"I'm him," I whispered, horror washing over me in icy waves. "I'm the pathetic loser."
[Penalty in progress. 0:32 remaining.]
The final seconds of agony stretched like years. I lay there, broken and humiliated, in a body that felt like a prison of flesh. When the timer finally hit zero, the relief was so sudden and complete that I nearly passed out. The pain vanished as if it had never existed, leaving me panting on the floor, my borrowed body slick with sweat.
[Penalty complete. I trust the lesson was... impactful?]
The words materialized with smug satisfaction, hanging in the air before my eyes.
"Who are you?" I demanded. "What have you done to me?"
[I am Nel, the Administrator of your personal System, Kaelen Leone. Or should I call you Satori Nakano now? That is the name that belongs to this body, after all.]
I struggled to my feet, wobbling as I adjusted to the unfamiliar weight distribution. Every movement felt wrong, like trying to pilot a mech with broken controls.
"Put me back," I snarled. "Put me back in my body right fucking now."
[I'm afraid that's impossible. Your original body is currently being prepared for cremation in Tokyo. Acute aortic dissection, brought on by a combination of being poisoned, hypertension, and your little... tantrum. Very undignified end for a man of your stature.]
I staggered to the mirror mounted on the closet door and confronted my new reality in full. I was massive not in the way I had been before, but in a soft, shapeless way. The body I now inhabited stood well over six feet tall, but it was a blob, a mockery of human form draped in a stained XXXL t-shirt and basketball shorts that strained against thighs chafed raw.
"No," I whispered, pressing my hands against the mirror. "No, this isn't happening."
[Oh, but it is, Mr. Leone. Or rather, Mr. Nakano. And we have much to discuss about your new circumstances.]
I turned away from my reflection, unable to bear it any longer. "Why? Why would you do this to me?"
[Because you're entertaining! Your rage when reading about fictional worlds, your contempt for protagonists who had everything handed to them... and now you get to live that very reality you despised. The twist? You're not the hero. You're the pathetic side character who exists to make the hero look better by comparison.]
The words hit me like physical blows. I had been Kaelen Leone, feared enforcer for the Yamaguchi-gumi, a man who commanded respect with a glance. Now I was... this.
"I'll kill myself."
[1-minute penalty for threatening self-harm: Acute Testicular Torsion.]
"Wait, don't—"
The pain slammed back into me, driving me to my knees.
[Self-harm threatens my entertainment, Mr. Nakano. It's a violation of our contract.]
"We don't... have a... contract," I ground out between clenched teeth.
[Oh, but we do. Your soul was weighed and found wanting. Your life was one of selfish pleasure and casual cruelty. You're here to learn, to grow... and to amuse me in the process.]
The penalty lifted after what felt like eternity. I lay on the floor, utterly defeated.
[Now then, shall we discuss your situation properly? You find yourself in New Vein City, a world where supernatural power is measured and categorized. You are enrolled in the prestigious New Vein Academy, a training ground for Hunters who battle the Abyssal Beasts that threaten humanity.]
"Let me guess," I muttered. "I'm the weakest student there."
[Perceptive! You are what's known as a Zero—someone with no measurable Aspect, no combat potential. The lowest of the low. In fact, let me show you your current status.]
A translucent blue screen appeared before me, floating in the air like a hologram.
Name: Satori Nakano
Title: Fat Fuck
Level: 1
Class: [NONE]
Strength: F-0
Dexterity: F-0
Agility: F-0
Endurance: F-0
Magic: F-0
Active Abilities (0/2):
Passive Abilities (0/4):
Traits: [NONE]
I stared at the screen, particularly at the title, then looked back at the System's floating text. "Did it take you all night to come up with that one?"
[I thought you'd appreciate the honesty. Now, in two months, you'll be taking the entrance exam for the New Vein Academy Hunter Program. In your current state, you'd be laughed out before you even stepped through the door.]
"So what? I'm supposed to get fit and become the hero?" I asked, struggling to stand up again. "That's the typical isekai bullshit, right?"
[Not quite. You see, the original Satori was supposed to be cannon fodder. Your arrival has... derailed that narrative.]
I leaned against the wall, considering this information. "So what's my role now?"
[That depends on you. The System I've attached to your soul is called [The Scumbag System]. It rewards... let's call it 'morally flexible behavior.' The more entertaining your actions, the more Schema Points you earn. Those points can be exchanged for power.]
Another screen appeared:
[Schema Points (SP): 0]
[You'll need those points. Because while you may be starting as cannon fodder, you have potential the original Satori never had: your mind. With that qualities, you might just survive this world.]
I rubbed my face, feeling the unfamiliar softness of my cheeks. "Fine. I'll play your game. How do I earn these Schema Points?"
[By embracing your role as the scumbag, of course. Corrupt the pure. Seduce the innocent. Betray expectations. Cause chaos that amuses us, and you'll be rewarded.]
"That's it? That was my entire life before this."
[Yes, but now there are rules. Structure. And real consequences for failure.]
My hand instinctively moved to protect my groin at the memory of the pain. "I noticed."
[Your first task is simple: seduce and corrupt your stepsister, Natalia Kuzmina. She's a potential A-Rank Hunter-in-training, beautiful, proud, and she despises you. You have until the entrance exam to make her yours. Completely.]