Chapter 1. Three Hot Blondes Wake Me Up
I blink away the spots of darkness clouding my vision.
My head feels heavy, like it's been cocooned in a soggy pile of used diapers. At least it doesn't smell similar to the metaphor—that would be a whole new level of terrible.
I twist my neck and wobble my head, trying to dislodge this incessant weight. It actually fades away. Good. I feel light again.
"Hey, Brian, what time is it?" I ask.
No response. Strange. He's awfully quiet today. Usually, he'd have already greeted me by now.
Grimacing, I massage my temple.
"Are you still in there, Brian?"
Yes, I have named my brain Brian. It's the best name, obviously. Anything else would've been off. A trusty brain should be Brian. You could go for Bairn or Nabir, but eh, they lack that certain ring.
"You're awake, I see."
The answer doesn't come from Brian, unfortunately. It comes from an unfamiliar woman, the one standing beside my bed. The older one, not the two younger versions of herself.
Right. I'm in a luxurious bed. Since when did asylums have such quality beds?
"Nod if your ears work, child." The blonde woman sighs in a way that reminds me of my previous attendant. That woman was a psycho, and I was afraid she would strangle me in my sleep. No one was happier than me when she resigned.
"Brian isn't responding." I tap my head and finally meet her annoyed gaze.
She's a beautiful woman, more fetching than Margot Robbie, which should be a crime. But I can't lie and say that the fair aristocratic face and bewitching hourglass body is inferior to my favourite actress. I'm crazy, not blind. Surprisingly, she's not the only exceptional beauty present. Out of the two younger versions of her, the older one is almost a carbon copy, lacking only the plump, thick curves that come with age and motherhood. The youngest of the trio, though thin and sickly, could've also won many beauty pageants, if she could hide those dark circles under her watery blue eyes.
Why does my room have these three hot models? Or the king-sized bed, for that matter?
Wait… this is not my room, I realise as I look around the opulent surroundings. The bed isn't the only luxurious furniture in sight. The royal sofas, the glass table, the draped walls, the exotic rugs, it all screams richy rich.
"Brian, are you making me see things again? You could've at least made them naked." I chuckle, tapping the side of my head again, hoping he would respond.
He doesn't.
My stomach twists with unease. And panic starts to creep in. Why is Brian so quiet?
"What on earth are you muttering to yourself, Alaric?" The hot milf hisses, clenching her hands into fists at her sides, her icy blue eyes narrowed in fury. "Why must you always be so difficult? I specifically told you to prepare for our distinguished guest. And yet, here you are, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness after smashing your head against the wall—something you still haven't bothered to explain."
I tilt my head to the side. Alaric? Is she talking to her own brain? No, no, she's glaring at me.
I point at myself. "Me?"
She purses her lips. "Do we have another Alaric here?"
"Mother, you can go now. The guest will be here any minute. You cannot squander your time. We'll prepare Alaric for you." The older of the two sisters perches on the edge of my bed, taking my hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Her soft hand holds the panic at bay. Unexpected but appreciated.
"Fine. Don't let him out unless he's back to himself. We wouldn't want to embarrass ourselves." The milf snaps and walks away.
The younger sister also sits down on the bed beside the older one, shooting me a questioning look. "You alright, Al?"
I assume they think I'm Alaric, which is wrong. I'm not Alaric. I am—
…
…
The panic returns in waves and my body trembles. Who the fuck am I? I can't remember my name. I can't even remember where I was before.
The asylum for batshit crazy people! There! I was there. But… what was the name of the establishment? How did I come here?
"Alaric." The older sister scoots closer and cups my face, her warm palms rooting me into reality, stopping me from hyperventilating. "What happened to you? Why're you acting so odd?"
Because I'm not Alaric!
Even as I think this, my brain is flooded with memories of Alaric, and I can no longer pretend that I'm not Alaric. I remember all the good times with my sisters. I recall the bitter history of our family, every insult aimed at me by my parents and the instances of Daphne becoming my protective shadow.
"Brian, what the fuck? Do your fucking job and sort it all out!" I yell, grabbing the water pitcher from the bedside table and smashing my head.
The last thing I see before sinking into peaceful sleep is Daphne's bewildered face.
~xXxXx~
'Seriously, master, I can't even leave you for one minute before you create a scene.'
I smile before I open my eyes, ignoring the aching bump on my head. I'm so glad Brian is back. I can finally hear him in my head. Without him, I'd be so…
"Where the fuck were you? I was terrified." I try not to sound too accusatory.
"Alaric! I'm here. Don't worry." The hand on my forehead is familiar. It's Daphne's. My older sister's. A strange thing to think about even now. Is she really my older sister? Am I really Alaric? I wish the answer was simple; that it was a yes or no question. But it's not.
"Sorry, Daph. I'm having an extremely odd day, if you haven't noticed." I take her hand in mine, squashing down my hysteria. "Can you give me a minute? I'm back to normal, I think. I'll be out for the meeting soon."
Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her mellow blue eyes flash with concern. "Are you sure? You can skip it if you're not feeling right."
"I'm sure." I caress the back of her hand with my thumb.
She seems reluctant but nods and moves away, letting me breathe. "He's already here. I suggest you skip the dreadful meeting, but I won't force you to choose. Whatever you do, you'll have my full support."
I gulp as Brian emphasises the memory in the forefront of my mind, reminding me what this meeting is about.
Today, Lucius Malfoy has come to our home, no doubt wanting more direct support for the Dark Lord in this war. During the first war, my father was spared the dark mark when my uncle stepped forward and took his place, becoming one of you-know-who's mooks.
Now, the choice is before us once again. And my cowardly father isn't willing to go on Death Eater raids. That means I'll be coerced to join their nazi gang. Lovely.
"Your support has always meant everything to me, sister. But for once, let me protect this family, however flawed and shitty it is."
"Language!"
My unimpressed look is all she gets. She sighs fondly, leaning down to place a kiss on my head. "I guess you really are fine if you can open that filthy mouth of yours. I'll give you a moment, then. I'm afraid father must have already made a fool of himself by now."
"That bumbling idiot—"
I stop when Daphne pinches my cheek. Though I do notice the humour in her eyes. "Stop running your mouth and dress up."
"Maybe if you leave the room, sister. Or do you want to see how much I have grown? Mind you, it changes according to the stimulus. If I—"
She groans and flicks my nose. "Put a lid on your gutter; I'm going."
I cannot bite back a grin as she hurries away, as if stalked by a monster, the blush on her face betraying her embarrassment.
"Now, Brian, what the fuck is happening? What am I?"
'I have many theories on what happened. But two scenarios have the highest chance of being true. Most probably, your previous self transmigrated into your current body, overtaking it, or this is actually your second life, a reincarnation, and you finally got the inkling about your past life when you smashed your head against a wall.'
I mull over his words as I change into formal wear. Whatever the reason, the outcome is the same. Now I've been made aware that I was mental in my previous life.
'You're crazy in this life too, master. You've begun talking to yourself again.'
I wince at the realisation. Yes, I'm mental. Who the fuck names their brain Brian and talks with it? The previous and the new me, apparently. I'm neither what I was in my past life nor what I was as Alaric Greengrass. The current me is an odd mixture of two personalities. This is the reason why the transmigration theory is not totally correct. If it were, I wouldn't have the memories or the sense of self. I would be someone entirely different, not Alaric. If this was a full transmigration, the love I bear for my family wouldn't still be there. I would be just a stranger in Alaric's body.
"I'm interested in this whole mystery, Brian. I want to know what triggered this cosmic event. I doubt smashing my head against a wall was all it took."
'Okay, master. Leave the thinking to me. I'll have answers sooner or later. We might need to do some experiments, of course.'
"Not something I'm averse to."
~xXxXx~
House Greengrass is not only one of the wealthiest families but also one of the oldest. That's why all these nazi shitheads assume we love licking their boogeyman's arse, that we smile and celebrate as we drain the money for terror—uh, pureblood revolution.
The loss of money should've been enough. We are being coerced into supporting the Dark Lord. That should be enough. But the shameless pigs just keep asking for more.
It's difficult not to spit or piss on the slimy face of Malfoy, but I smile nevertheless in greeting. Whatever my opinion about them may be, one thing is a fact: they are powerful, dangerous, and downright evil. No need to invite their wrath upon us.
My father, a short rotund man with dark hair, sits behind the throne-like chair. My hot mother stands behind him primly, her hands crossed under her massive chest, unintentionally pushing the fun bags together.
I should really stop describing my mother like that. But oh well, truth is truth. Sexy is sexy. Uh, where were we before I digressed?
'Pissing on Malfoy and ogling Mum.'
Thanks, Brian.
My father and mother are on one side of the mahogany table, and Lucius Malfoy is on the other, facing them. Astoria is absent, likely sequestered in her room, while Daphne stands besides my parents, her lips twisting upwards at my arrival.
I go over and stand next to her.
"You're at last here, young man. Let us proceed." Even though Malfoy is dumped on a lesser chair, he possesses more authority than my father ever did in his lifetime.
"R-Right. Let us begin." My father stutters, making me want to smack the bald spot on his head. Look strong, old man!
"It has been more than a month since our Lord's triumphant return, yet you have not presented yourself to greet him. Surely, you understand how this is perceived."
My father shrinks under Malfoy's scowl. "Forgive me. But I didn't know I was required to show up in person. You see, I never took the mark."
"Everyone knows that." Malfoy makes 'that' sound like a slur. "But that doesn't mean you aren't one of us. You should have showed up. The lack of a Greengrass has offended our master. It is on his whim that I come here. We need to form a more… obvious connection between us. Anyone can fund our campaign behind the scenes. But few esteemed members must publicly stand with us. Do you understand?"
My father lowers his head and nods. "What do you have in mind?"
"First, your son will have to take the mark, like the other boys his age. Draco and Theodore have already had theirs. And lastly, your eldest must wed my son. There's a war coming; it's prudent for old families like ours to combine and produce heirs if the worst happens. We can begin by a betrothal contract, which will mature when your daughter produces an heir."
…
…
I crush the bubbling rage and look at my side. Surely, they wouldn't!
Daphne is frozen, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted. Then her posture relaxes, her gaze dropping to the floor as she silently accepts the inevitable. Mother looks both pained and furious, yet she remains silent. Father simply sighs and nods. "Alr—"
"No," I say, meeting Malfoy's frown. "Daphne cannot marry your son."
My family whips their faces towards me, silently begging me to shut up, but I keep my gaze firmly on the sly fucker. He dares to treat my Daphne like a broodmare? To even utter that his ponce can touch her? If that's not enraging enough, he says their betrothal will only turn into marriage when they have a kid. What does he take her for? A whelp-producing machine?
"We can discuss further. I'm sure we can come to an agreement." Malfoy leans back in his chair, eyeing me with intrigue.
Again, the fucker really things my sister is a sack of potatoes to be bargained for.
"No. Daphne cannot marry anyone." I place my arm around her narrow waist, tugging her closer. She looks shocked and terrified, her palms flat on my chest, no doubt fearing for my life. "Because I will marry her."
…
…
…
…
The faces of my family would be hilarious in another context. Daphne is understandably flabbergasted. My mother is gaping at me. And my father is already on the verge of tears, no doubt afraid for his own life. The coward.
"She is your sister," Malfoy says slowly, enunciating every word, revealing to me why I cannot bone my sibling.
Bah! Incest is wincest, everyone knows that.
"So what? We are the Greengrasses. Our bloodline is second only to the Blacks. We have no need to climb financially or politically. Now is the perfect time to keep our bloodline pure pure."
Daphne catches onto the game and wraps her arms around my neck, pressing up close, gazing at me like a love-sick fool, with heart in her eyes.
"More importantly, I love my brother more than anyone. Pardon us, Lord Malfoy, but I can never belong to your son. My body and soul is faithful to only one man—my little brother, who is not so little anymore." She blushes, hiding her face in my chest.
Damn. She's a natural. Her warm supple body is flush against mine, and her expensive perfume makes my loin stir. My heart is already sprinting, and if she doesn't stop being so intense, it will explode.
Mother must have caught onto the plan too, because she isn't glaring at me anymore, keeping her expression blank—confident.
"That is unnecessarily extreme, I must say. No family weds their own children to each other," Malfoy argues, rubbing his face.
"As my son said, we are Greengrasses. We do not need to marry up. Since my children are happy with each other, I do not see any reason to dilute our bloodline," Mother speaks up regally. "I apologise, but we cannot give Daphne away. Nor can we spare Astoria. It has long been our dream to replenish the lost numbers. With Daphne and Astoria's aid, Alaric will perform his duty and bolster our dwindling family. We won't be a family of only five for too long."
Look at her go; she even roped Astoria into the charade, saving her preemptively.
Malfoy eyes us with disgust and suspicion. "I will talk to our master. We'll see what he thinks of this… arrangement. And it's his decision, as we all know."
We remain silent, and I barely bite back a comment.
He gets up. "I will contact you soon. This should be cleared before the children have to board the train to Hogwarts."
We watch as he walks away, as he throws one last bewildered look over his shoulder.
…
"What were you thinking?" Daphne yells, pushing me away. "He could've killed you, and we wouldn't have been able to do anything!"
"That's a wrong question, dear." Mother narrows her eyes. "He didn't think. He never does."
At least father doesn't insult m—
"The bumbling idiot."
I blink. Did the bumbling idiot just call me a bumbling idiot?
I do not get time to have an intelligent conversation with the idiot as Daphne grabs my face and forces me to meet her enraged eyes. "Explain yourself, Alaric. Right this instant."
"I was not going to trade my sister for safety. I never will." I hang my head. "I couldn't hold back when he basically proposed to make you a broodmare to the Malfoy family. And I latched onto the first plan that my mind could conjure."
"You idiot," she grumbles but throws her arms around my neck, embracing me tightly.
I bury my face in her neck, my hands secured around her waist, smiling as she yelps when I lean back and her feet leave the floor. Daphne can never hold onto anger when it's directed at me or Astoria; she's too kind.
"We have only postponed the problem. If the Dark Lord orders, we will have to give Daphne away." Mother sits on the edge of the desk, eyeing us with a multitude of emotions.
I set Daphne down, pulling away from her, facing mother. "I don't think so. I doubt the Dark Lord wants to be bothered by inter-house politics. I'm sure it was just Malfoy using his name to procure a pureblood wife for his son. Now that we've refused to bend, and given a valid reason, we should be free—unless he actually coerces the Dark Lord and gains some proof of such a statement. But that is unlikely. We are the ones throwing most money for his campaign. If he is as cunning as everyone says, the Dark Lord won't risk alienating those who fund his war effort just to entertain one family's agenda."
A rare smile graces her kissable lips. "I see you're at last using the thing between your ears. Keep improving and maybe you won't be such a disappointment."
Ouch. But compared to Daphne, I am inferior. My magic is weak and fickle. I am not a genius. And that's the reason why my parents have always looked down on me, wishing Daphne was born a boy rather than me.
"You're so nice, Mother. You make me all warm and fuzzy."
She rolls her eyes. "Take him away, dear. I will have to contact our connections and check if Alaric's rambling was true or a fool's hope."
Daphne yanks my arm and leads me away before I can throw another sarcastic comment.
"I wish father didn't have such a tiny dick that she has to resort to shoving a giant stick up her arse," I mutter once we are in the hallway.
"Alaric!"
~xXxXx~
'Master, I have the answers ready for you,' Brian says an hour later.
I'm lying alone in my bed, brainstorming to find ways to save my family. My trusty brain's proclamation gives me surprise and hope. Answers to my existential questions so soon? Brian is really the best. I really do have the finest brain in the universe, no doubt.
"Oh?" I ask him aloud. "What have you found?"
'After going through your memories and thoroughly examining your soul, I've come to an interesting conclusion.
You are actually Alaric. But you activated a secret latent power of yours today and this mess occured.
You see, before you were born in this world, your soul earned a divine blessing because of your actions in your past life. A powerful gamer system, the likes which you used to read previously.
But the heavens placed a limit on your soul, putting a timer until you could actually use this ability. Now you can.
Congratulations, your The Wanker System is online! Now you will gain a gacha ticket every time you jerk off. The only caveat is you cannot use any additives to strengthen your vigour. It must be all natural.'
…
…
"Brian, are you pulling my leg?"
I can feel his mirth, his restraint not to laugh. 'Believe it or not, it's true, master. You really have such a power system. Why not give it a try? It might be a ridiculous system, but you're in no position to ignore it. The war is all around you. Your family's life may depend on your ability to rub one out!'
"You're enjoying it too much!" I chuckle, fishing my cock out.
I'm not sure if Brian is really telling the truth or just taking the mickey out of me. But it's not the weirdest thing we've ever concocted. Oh well, not that it will cost me. I was getting horny anyway. Let's see if I really do have some secret ability.
I close my eyes and pump my chump.
It doesn't even take many pumps! I truly am the best! Though I have yet to beat my record of busting my nut in three strokes. It probably won't ever happen again. Those golden days are past me. I'm no longer as yo—
Platinum Gacha Ticket Gained!
Rolling!
A bluish ethereal window pops open before my vision even as I put my dick back in my pants, and an ouroboros snake keeps spinning around in the imitation of a loading circle. I think it's called a throbber.
Item Gained!
[Twilight Healing] (Elite Item)
— A sacred gear created by god. Twilight Healing manifests as a pair of ornate rings that allows its user to convert their own energy into neutral healing energy that can heal others or yourself, potency depends on how much energy you expend.
…
…
This is… real. I can actually gain powers by jerking off! The fuck?
I sober up as soon as I realise what I can do with it. I wear the two silver rings on my middle fingers and feel the connection instantly. Invisible threads run up from my middle fingers and sink into my core. I don't have to learn anything. The item came with a mental manual. I know how to use it.
Leaving my room, I barge into Astoria's. She jumps at the sound of the door being slammed open. It seems she was in the process of changing clothes.
I don't care that she is just in her underwear. I don't even give her perky chest a glance. I can't even hear her annoyed words as she covers herself with a pillow. I march right up to her and thrust my hands out, and my rings emit a golden glow, bathing her thin, sickly body in shimmering light.
"Al! What are you doing?" She gasps, pulling the pillow tight against her chest.
"Just shut up and heal, dammit." I grunt as I feel a vacuum that sucks the magic from my body, using the energy to fight the dark curse afflicting her.
Astoria has never been not sickly. I can't remember a time when she didn't have dark circles, when she could play with us without getting tired. No more. My sister will be battling the blood curse no more. Let this be enough. She has suffered far too long.
Her eyes widen as black mist escapes from her chest and burns in the light. She stumbles back, her knees hitting the bed frame, and collapses on the edge of her bed, the pillow rolling out of her grasp, forgotten, as she clenches and relaxes her fingers.
"Do… you feel okay?" I ask, dropping beside her.
"I feel… healthy. Is this what normal feels like?" Her voice gets caught in her throat as her eyes well up.
"Yes, sister. This is how you were meant to live."
She throws her arms around me, weeping in joy, and her grip is strong, I notice with satisfaction. Even her hugs used to be weak. But now she can practically strangle me if she wants.
I gather her in my arms and rub her back, closing my eyes and relishing her tight embrace.
Daphne finds us in the same position ten minutes later, raising her eyebrows. "What's going on here? Tori, put on some clothes. And Alaric, explain."
Astoria blushes and scrambles away, while I stand up and swagger towards Daphne. Grinning, I show off my magical rings. Yes, that means flipping her off. "I just healed Tori's blood curse."
Daphne freezes, her gaze darting between us. "What?"
"He's not lying, Daph. I've never felt this light before!" Astoria confesses, pulling on a dress. "I really think I'm cured. But do contact the healer. I want to confirm it."
It's all hectic after that. All the family members are shocked and overjoyed. We shift to the living room and call a healer to come check Astoria. They all are stunned when the healer actually confirms that Astoria is no longer under the blood curse, that she's fully cured.
"How did you do it, Al?" Astoria asks, snuggled into Daphne's side. Mother and father are on the other sofa, looking curious as well, smiling so widely that it feels off. My parents aren't into being all happy and smiley, so it takes a moment to get used to it.
I smirk and pace before them, with my arms crossed behind me. "You won't believe me."
"I usually wouldn't." Mother leans back and offers me a proud smile. "But you somehow got these rings of healing and cured an incurable curse. I would believe anything you say."
"I second her." Father rubs his hands greedily. "How did you get it? And how can we get more such items? Maybe if we offer such gifts to the Dark Lord, he may allow us to remain free and unmolested."
My eyes twitch at his suggestion. Once a slave, always a slave.
"Tell us, Alaric." Daphne's smile is so full of love and pride that my irritation vanishes.
I come to a halt, facing them, and confess. "I have the power to earn gacha tickets every time I masturbate. Gacha tickets are cosmic points used to roll the multiversal lottery. And yes, we live in a multiverse, not a universe. It all came to me in my prophetic dream. Simply, every time I jerk off, I get the ability to roll the lottery wheel and gain such divine objects."
…
…
The silence is heavy. I see the pride leave my parents' gaze. Even Daphne and Astoria look disappointed and taken aback.
"Now is not the time for your crude jokes, Alaric Greengrass!" Mother snaps. "Why do you always have to be so difficult?"
"I'm not lying." I keep my voice ice cold, aware whining or throwing a tantrum will only make me look more crazy. "Believe me, I know how weird it sounds. But it is what it is. You asked for the truth, I gave it. I don't care if you believe me or not."
My sisters share a confused look, probably wanting to believe me but finding it too bizarre to be true. Mother's face cycles between suspicion and embarrassment. It's father who's still rubbing his palms like a goblin. "How about you prove it, son? Go… do the stuff and return with a brand new item. I'm sure that will go a long way to give credence to this power of yours."
"Fine," I grumble and go away to do it in peace.
Silver Gacha Ticket Gained!
Rolling!
The same bluish window pops up again, displaying the throbber in the shape of a snake eating its own tail.
Item Gained!
[Gale Force Reading Glasses] (Uncommon Item)
— A magical item in the form of a pair of spectacles. Wearing these glasses allows one to read books much faster. Allowing them to read any book they are holding 64x faster without sacrificing reading comprehension.
Not bad. Though not flashy enough. I hope they'll take it as proof. If they don't, fuck them. I'm not going to beg them to believe me.
I return to the living room and pass the spectacles to my mother. "This is magical and allows anyone to read a book sixty four times faster than their usual speed. Is that proof enough?"
She grabs a book from the table and tests the new spectacles. We patiently wait as the pages flip at a ridiculous rate. And in three minutes, she has finished reading a four hundred page book. She closes it and puts it down. Then she takes off the glasses. "You have an… interesting ability."
That's as far as she's going to apologise for doubting me. Daphne and Astoria are blushing up a storm, while father beams at me. "That is more than an interesting ability. It's our ticket to power. Forget about bowing to the Dark Lord. Imagine all the love and respect we'll gain from the world if we defeat him and bring an end to the war? How many times can you masturbate in a day, Alaric?"
"Damian!" Mother gasps, scandalised. "Have some tact!"
Father ignores her and keeps grinning at me. "How many times can you do it in a day?"
On one hand, I'm pleased that he's even thinking of defying the Dark Lord. But Merlin! He's a moron. To ask his own son in such a direct manner? No subtlety at all. Still, I'm not humble enough to hide my virility. Let them know. Let them be awed by my manliness.
I show two fingers proudly. "I can do it twice a day. So no more attempts at the lottery today. But I shall return with two more items tomorrow!"
Oi, why do they look so disappointed and sympathetic.
"Only twice?" Father barks in disbelief.
"Even you're not that bad." Mother mutters under her breath, elbowing father with a grin.
"It's good, Alaric." Daphne jumps to her feet, glaring at our parents. She pats my head and kisses my cheek. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's… above average."
Astoria's giggles and my parent's amusement makes her reassurance feel empty. But I do not let them affect me. All these are women, what do they know what is average and what's not? And about father, maybe he's a freak, an exception. Maybe sex is the only thing he's good at. It would make sense. Mother wouldn't have stayed with such a loser otherwise.
I grin and nod at Daphne, totally reassured. "I know."
Of course, I'm above average. There's no doubt about it.
'Then you would say five inches is gigantic.' Brian snickers.
'Is it not?' I argue back inside my head.
'Of course, it is, master. Of course, it is.'
A.N. Sometimes my genius scares me. I truly have the best brain.
Jokes aside, welcome, both old and new readers, to my new fic. I'm planning to keep it light, smutty, and crack-ish. Though no promises. We will see what happens. My muse is moody and cannot be predicted. Also, this time, I'm actually using a gacha for the rolls instead of making up convenient shit for the story. It's Chaos Gacha by Bronz Deck.