The next day, Leon's face looked less like a human face and more like a poorly kneaded loaf of bread left out in the sun. It was Tuesday, and he was determined to finish his remaining five quotas for Quest 1 (Slap 10 Men) and Quest 5 (Be Slapped by 10 Men).
"I have 10 RSP from yesterday's fiasco," he muttered, checking his window. "I only got the pathetic amount left over from the Gamer System. I need to complete both of these Quests to get a thousand RSP total. This is a grind."
He knew the side streets were too risky after the 'Kevin incident,' so Leon chose a different tactic: finding a venue where a little aggression was expected—the local outdoor street boxing competition. It wasn't full-contact, but it drew men who were already keyed up.
He positioned himself near the exit chute of the boxing ring, where participants, fueled by adrenaline, were cooling down. He adopted the demeanor of a disgruntled, aggressive judge.
His first target was a middle-aged man who had just lost his bout.
Leon marched up, his fists clenched for dramatic effect, and shouted, "Your footwork was an offense to the concept of movement! You disgrace the sport! You deserve a slap!"
The man, still breathing heavily, merely blinked at Leon's tomato-red cheeks and took the bait, throwing a tired, open-handed slap across Leon's face.
SMACK!
[Quest 5 Progress: 6/10]
Leon instantly retaliated with his own meager slap, delivered with the mechanical force of a man fulfilling a digital obligation.
WHAP!
[Quest 1 Progress: 6/10]
"You are defeated!" Leon screamed, running away before the man realized he'd been double-slapped by a civilian in padded joggers.
This new environment was perfect. The air was thick with competitive tension. The next two targets, equally frustrated fighters, fell quickly. Leon used similar tactics: insulting their technique, accusing them of bribing the judges, and generally being the most annoying human being on the street. Each time, they slapped him back with the fury of a warrior scorned, and he returned the favor with the speed of a man who desperately wanted RSP.
[Quest 1 Progress: 8/10]
[Quest 5 Progress: 8/10]
He was feeling good, despite the ringing in his ears. His Palm Hardening was earning its 500 RSP price tag.
The Biceps Barrier
Leon spotted his fourth target—a giant of a man who looked less like a fighter and more like a walking granite statue wearing a tank top. His biceps were the size of Leon's head, and the veins on his neck looked like they were trying to escape his skin.
This man had just won his fight decisively. He was flexing and receiving high-fives from his corner. He radiated the kind of raw, physical dominance that made Leon's tiny STR 12 stat feel like a suggestion rather than a reality.
Leon's confidence instantly evaporated, replaced by the instinctual terror of a prey animal. He saw the man's massive hand, a meaty slab of muscle that looked capable of crushing concrete. If this man slapped him, it wouldn't be a completion of Quest 5; it would be a eulogy.
I have to do it, Leon's logical mind insisted. The RSP is worth the risk!
Leon walked up to the giant, his throat dry. He stared at the man's enormous arm, then down at his own small, trembling hand. The words of insult died on his tongue. He couldn't do it. The cost was too high.
He slowly, shamefully, lowered his arm, his fingers tightly closed in a fist of resignation. He just stood there for a second, looking utterly pathetic.
The man, basking in victory, looked down at Leon, frowned slightly at his silent, red-faced existence, and simply brushed past him without a word.
Leon scurried away, his whole body shaking.
Failure to engage.
"Men are brave," Leon muttered, clutching his chest. "But I am a strategic coward."
Evening Victory and the Coffee Shop
Two more hours of aimless roaming followed, punctuated by bouts of nervous sweating and attempts to psych himself up for the final two targets. Leon eventually found two distracted young interns sharing a cigarette break near an alley. They were less intimidating and more prone to being startled.
Using a revised, extremely fast 'Look Behind You' slap tactic, Leon successfully completed his remaining two quotas. They were weak slaps, but they registered on the System.
By 6:30 PM, the familiar chime of the System rang out, and two notifications glowed proudly:
[Quest 1: The Hand of Justice] Complete! Reward: 500 RSP
[Quest 5: Slap Back (Male)] Complete! Reward: 500 RSP
Leon checked his balance. RSP: 1010. He had succeeded! He was out of the men-slapping business for the week! He slumped against a cold wall, breathing a deep sigh of relief.
"I'm going home," he thought. "I'm taking a bath and applying an entire aloe vera plant to my face."
Then, he remembered. The coffee shop.
Leon worked a part-time evening shift at 'The Daily Grind,' the very place he had terrorized yesterday. It was his normal, mundane life colliding with his horrifying new reality. His shift started in ten minutes.
He groaned, peeling himself off the wall and stumbling toward the café.
He clocked in and walked behind the counter. Maya, his crush, was already wiping down the espresso machine. She looked up, and her eyes immediately widened.
Maya was everything gentle and sane in Leon's chaotic existence. She had kind eyes, a brilliant smile, and a remarkable ability to remember everyone's favorite drink.
"Leon," she said, her voice laced with genuine concern. "Your cheeks are really red."
Leon, used to the routine of avoiding her gaze and deflecting compliments, gave his usual, practiced, self-deprecating reply.
"Yeah, Maya, I told you, I... I say that same thing every time I see a truly beautiful dress on a customer."
Maya stopped wiping the machine. She leaned back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
"No, Leon," she said softly, stepping around the counter until she was just a few feet from him. "You say that same thing many times, yes. But the other times, your cheeks go red when you see girls in beautiful dresses. This time, Leon, it's real."
She reached out a hand, not to slap him, but to gently hover her fingers near the fiery redness of his cheek.
"This time, it looks like you got punched." She paused, her eyes searching his. "What happened?"
Leon froze. He was used to his body betraying him with blushing, but this was different. He was standing close to his crush, a woman he fantasized about having a normal conversation with, and she was being flirty and deeply concerned simultaneously.
And yet, his cheeks didn't convert colour. His face, bruised and battered from a dozen slaps, remained resolutely, sadly, red. It was the Slap System's gift: maximum inflammation, zero blushing.
The irony was crushing. The first time Maya had ever truly flirted with him, the first time he had ever been given the perfect opening to admit he was just naturally flustered by her, his face was stuck in the permanent, tragic color of physical abuse.
"I... I tripped," Leon mumbled, suddenly wishing he had the Ultimate Gamer System so he could activate the [Auto-Save 3 seconds Ago] skill. "I tripped over a... an invisible curb. It was a very brave curb."
Maya gave him a look of profound skepticism, but then she smiled, a slow, gentle curve of her lips. "Well, try not to get tripped again. We need your wisdom, Leon."
Leon just nodded, his STR 12 body feeling weaker than ever, knowing he still had to return to his apartment to prepare for the looming Quest 3 (Slap 20 Children) and the inevitable confrontation with Maya in Quest 9 and 10.