(Alternate universe where the system said "screw the music career, let's make this degenerate unstoppable")
July 11, 2010. Brownsville charity line.
Leon was halfway through his third scoop of lumpy mashed potatoes when the voice hit.
[Monthly Inspiration Refresh Active… ERROR. Tag 'The Grifter' detected. Switching reward protocol to maximum degeneracy.]
[Superhuman Empowerment Unlocked: Degenerate Physique!
- All physical stats scale directly with how much of a shameless, greedy, backstabbing piece of shit you are being at any given moment.
- Current baseline: Street Rat (2.1× human)
- Side effect: Every time you do something even remotely decent (pay rent, tell the truth, help an old lady cross the street), stats crash to 0.3× and you get explosive diarrhea for six hours.
Good luck staying a scum, king.]
Leon froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. A single potato dropped onto his shoe.
"…No song? Powers? Actual superpowers?"
He looked around like a kid who just found out Christmas was real and also illegal. "Fk yeah. Devil, I love you."
He immediately turned to the 280-pound homeless guy next to him.
"Yo, my brother in Christ, I'm actually Jesus reincarnated. Gimme your entire meal or God will strike you with lightning."
The lie was so bald-faced, so dripping with greed, that the power spiked. Leon felt his arms swell, veins popping like he'd been mainlining creatine and pure evil for ten years. The homeless guy's eyes glazed over.
"Take it, Street Jesus…"
Leon scarfed both trays in thirty seconds flat, then casually one-handed the entire metal serving table and used it as a tray to carry his new feast.
The volunteers screamed. Leon just winked. "Don't worry, I'll pay it forward… never."
He sprinted home at 40 mph, table still balanced on one finger like a waiter from hell.
Bonnie was halfway out of her stripper heels when the front door exploded off its hinges. A now-jacked Leon stood there, shirt ripping at the seams, eyes glowing with pure grift energy.
"Bonnie baby, I just won the lottery. Ten million dollars. All cash. Right now."
The lie was so shameless the multiplier shot to 4.7×. Leon's pants literally burst. Bonnie's jaw dropped so hard it nearly unhinged.
"W-what the f—"
Before she could finish, Leon had her in a bridal carry, bed broken in half within forty-five seconds, walls cracking, ceiling light swinging like it was in an earthquake. Five straight hours. Zero breaks. Bonnie spoke in tongues at one point.
When they finally stopped, the entire living room looked like a war crime.
Bonnie, panting, covered in sweat and drywall dust: "Leon… what the actual fuck are you on?"
Leon, still rock-hard and now bench-pressing the busted sofa with one arm while stealing the $180 she hid in her bra with the other hand: "System gave me powers, babe. The more of an asshole I am, the stronger I get. Watch—"
He lied again: "I'm actually paying you back all the rent I owe. With interest."
Ding. Powers instantly dropped to 0.4×. Leon's muscles deflated like a sad balloon. He felt his colon clench in warning.
"OH SHIT NO—"
He barely made it to the bathroom.
Next morning at the subway.
Davis was mid-freestyle when Leon strolled up, still slightly pale from the truth-backlash diarrhea but already scheming again.
"Yo, Bully! My bad about stealing your shot with T-Ray. Here, let me make it up to you—" Leon patted Davis on the shoulder, then immediately followed with, "Actually I never liked you, I just used you for protection, and I slept with your cousin last week."
Power multiplier: 6.3×
Davis swung. Leon caught the fist with two fingers, spun, and suplexed the 200-pound Battle MC straight through the roof of a parked Honda Civic like it was made of wet cardboard.
The crowd lost their minds.
T-Ray's Escalade rolled up right as Leon was casually curling the entire wrecked Honda over his head for reps.
T-Ray's cigar fell out of his mouth. "White boy… you on that Captain America experimental military pussy juice?"
Leon dropped the car, walked over, and lifted the front of the Escalade with one pinky so T-Ray could "parallel park better."
"New deal, fat man. Seventy percent royalties, no contract, and you give me both those girls in your office every Tuesday. Or I use your head as a basketball."
T-Ray stared at the two-ton SUV balanced on one finger, then at Leon's shit-eating grin.
"…You drive a hard bargain, super-scum."
That night Leon carried Bonnie under one arm like a rolled-up rug while sprinting across the Brooklyn Bridge at 70 mph.
"Time to conquer Manhattan, baby! First stop: Jay-Z's crib. I'm stealing Beyoncé, the throne, and his entire liquor cabinet."
Bonnie, hair whipping in the wind, half-terrified, half-turned-on: "You're gonna get us both killed, you absolute degenerate."
Leon laughed so hard the power hit 9.8×. A random passerby on the bridge instinctively handed him his wallet.
"Killed? Baby, the system literally rewards me for being the biggest piece of shit alive. This city's about to find out what happens when the Devil's favorite grifter gets cheat codes."
He looked straight up at the Manhattan skyline, eyes shining with pure, unfiltered greed.
"New York… daddy's home."