I crossed my arms and asked, "What's with the level thing?"
[It represents your progression, host. Each time you level up, you receive a reward along with stat points that can be used to improve your physical condition.]
My brows lifted. "I remember you mentioned I leveled up the moment I woke up?"
[Indeed, host. Regaining your memories was a system-generated quest, which granted you the initial 100G required to level up.]
I nodded. That explained the balance I had right now.
"So? Where's my reward?"
[Would you like to open the reward first, or check the other system features?]
I glanced out the window. The sun was already up, and if I wasn't mistaken, someone would be knocking on my door any moment now.
I was an impatient man, so I decided to open my present first.
"The reward first."
[Command accepted.]
[The host has acquired the skill
[The host has gained 5 stats points.]
That sounded interesting. "Explain the skill."
[This skill allows the host to allocate stat points to temporarily strengthen a specific attribute. For example, the host may transfer all Strength points into Speed for a short burst.]
[Note: This skill cannot be upgraded.]
[Note: The effect only last for a minute.]
[Note: This skill has a cooldown of thirty seconds.]
[Note: The host cannot allocate all stat points into a single attribute. At least one point must remain in each category to ensure survivability.]
I remained silent, just reading the description.
So, I can be faster, stronger or more smart for a minute. But in exchange, I would need to sacrifice another trait.
Well, a good skill...definitely far better than what I was expecting.
It would allow me to make the last second impact that would win me the battle.
Just then—
*Knock*
Right on cue. Someone came to drag me back to reality.
I exhaled slowly and glanced down at myself. The shirt had dried enough; at least I no longer looked like I'd crawled out of a river. Good enough.
I crossed the room and pulled the door open.
…Damn.
She stood in the hallway light, somewhere in her late forties yet somehow carrying the soft authority of someone younger. Warm brown hair fell in gentle waves, framing a small, delicate face and a pair of sleepy, drooping brown eyes that seemed perpetually half-lidded.
But it was impossible not to notice the rest.
This world really did operate in different proportions.
Her blouse strained quietly against an impressive, heavy chest—full and round in a way that made the top two buttons look like they were performing heroic duty.
A narrow waist curved inward before flaring again into wide, soft hips, the tight skirt hugging the thickest part of her thighs just tightly enough to hint at their plush shape with every small shift of weight.
"Hmm? Are you alright, dear?"
Her soft voice pulled me out of my trance. I finally met her eyes.
"Ah… yes, Mom."
She stepped closer. I was too caught in the moment to even think of retreating.
Her full breasts pressed warmly against my chest as she reached up and cradled my cheek.
"You look so pale… are you feeling weak? Dizzy?"
My gaze dropped. The deep, shadowed valley between her breasts had formed where the soft mounds compressed together, rising and falling gently with her breathing. Heat surged straight to my groin; I was already hardening.
I forced myself to shake my head. "No… I'm fine."
She let out a quiet sigh, shoulders relaxing. "I know it's hard on you. But you have to face it, son."
It clicked then.
Right. I'd just turned eighteen. Today was the day I was supposed to start going out, finding work.
Luke had always been so fragile, so timid—his mother had spent years worrying over him.
I exhaled slowly. "I'll figure something out. Don't worry."
Without warning she drew me in, pressing my face deep into the plush warmth of her chest.
"Oh, my little Luke… I wish I could keep you right here with me forever."
Her words barely registered.
All I could feel was the incredible softness enveloping my face—warm, heavy, yielding perfectly around me. I'd been with women before, but nothing had ever felt this flawless, this indulgent.
A sudden, raw urge took over.
My hands rose on instinct.
I cupped her breasts, fingers sinking into the supple weight. I began to knead them slowly, reverently, savoring every lush inch.
In my old world, any woman would have shoved me away or slapped me.
But this world was different.
Here, men felt almost no sexual hunger. They coupled only to conceive.
So instead of recoiling, she simply tilted her head, brow furrowing in gentle confusion.
"What is it, Luke?"
I swallowed, voice low. "It… relaxes me. Touching you like this."
It wasn't a lie—just not the way she understood it.
She probably thought I was using the comfort of her body to soothe some innocent stress.
In reality, I was painfully, shamelessly aroused.
But then, I reluctantly released her saying, "Others must be waiting, no?"
She nodded, "Yes."
I nodded and stepped past her, waiting for her outside.
Mom soon followed me and we walked down the gallery towards the hall.
En route, Mom suddenly said, "Dear...if you feel better touching your mother's chest, you can do it again."
I smirked. I am starting to like this world already.