PSSHH!
"Ahh… fuck." Jordan muttered as the water from the small bathroom sink sprayed directly at his face.
He stumbled backward, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "Fucking sink…"
This was the kitchen sink, and it seemed like it was possessed by some demon of water pressure. If this continued, he'd be paying a water bill big enough to choke a hippo. "I barely have enough for next month…"
He stepped away and sluggishly dropped onto his sunken sofa and the springs groaned like they wanted to commit suicide.
He pressed an arm over his eyes and let out a long breath.
Jordan was tired.
No… he was exhausted on a spiritual level.
Everything began collapsing right after he finished college. He had studied Software Engineering and even received a promising job application that could've set his life on track. He had imagined saving money, buying a nicer apartment, maybe getting married to his girlfriend…
But reality didn't give a shit about his dreams.
AI had been creeping into the industry for months, but then boom… overnight, it took EVERYTHING.
Companies downsized, entire sectors vanished and job listings evaporated like piss in the sun.
The company that had promised to hire him shut down before he even submitted his onboarding documents. He wasn't the only one… new graduates, experienced engineers, senior programmers… everyone was out of a job.
It was like the god of coding decided humanity was obsolete.
Jordan didn't even know if the staff were reimbursed for their early contracts. The public didn't care. They preferred the perfect, instant, shiny software that AI spat out in seconds.
After that disaster, his parents gave him one last month of support… then cut him off.
"You're a man," they said. "You need to get on your feet" they said.
He would have preferred a slap.
And as if the universe wanted to make sure he fully understood how much it hated him, his girlfriend posted an Instagram picture.
Her head was on the shoulder of someone he deeply despised back in college… one of those guys who thought breathing was a personality trait.
She dumped Jordan through text a few hours later.
「You need to sort yourself out. I can't date a broke man.」
On one hand, he couldn't blame her. On the other hand… fuck her.
He had smashed his phone in anger then he cried when he had to pay to repair the screen.
"I'm truly pathetic…" he muttered as he lay on the sofa. "Twenty-three years old… no job… no nothing… I'm just tired."
The sound of dripping water from the kitchen echoed like a countdown to homelessness.
"At this rate… I'll be homeless by next month."
He lay flat on the couch and grabbed his phone.
He hated looking at it, fixing the screen drained most of his savings, and now? The only notifications he had were sad little reminders that the webnovels he followed had updated.
Not that he read lately since depression ate his motivation so he scrolled lazily.
Then…
A foreign notification slid across the screen, covering everything.
『Congratulations, O Jobless One. Rejoice, for you have been hired.』
Jordan blinked.
"Did I get a virus?" It looked like a scam pop-up… with gold text, glowing borders, and fancy like a bootleg mobile ad.
He tried to scroll but nothing moved. He tried pressing the lock button. The screen refused to turn off. He tried again. Again… again…
Still nothing.
"It's like my phone got hacked…" he whispered, then snorted. "Not like I have anything for them to take anyway."
He paused.
"…How did it know I'm jobless?"
Another notification popped up instantly.
『The God of Games has offered you a job.』
"God of Ga—"
Before he finished, his vision blurred. His limbs lost strength and the world slipped away.
Jordan woke with a violent gasp.
His eyes shot open, and instead of his cracked ceiling with mold patches, he saw… polished marble? A ceiling with golden patterns? Bright lights that looked too expensive to exist in his tax bracket?
He sat upright.
He was wearing a suit and tie, a good suit too. It was the kind rich people wore when suing poor people.
His hair was slicked back neatly, as if someone had taken time styling it. The chair under him was ridiculously comfortable. Like… "I have more money than you" comfortable.
In front of him sat a man.
A middle-aged man with slick silver hair and sunglasses indoors, a cigar clamped between his lips, and the most violently colorful suit Jordan had ever seen. Red, yellow, neon green… like a rainbow threw up on him.
The man leaned forward and grinned.
"No, I'm not a scam, Jobless One," he said with his voice dripping with smugness. "It is I… the God of Games. And I'm here to give you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"A… are you real?"
"No, I am a hallucination caused by stress and poverty. Of course I'm real!" The God of Games rolled his eyes. "Mortals these days… brain smoother than marble."
Jordan stared.
The god continued with a flourish of his hands. "Welcome to my office! Well, technically my workplace, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. First things first… congratulations on your new job!"
"A… new job?" Jordan muttered.
"Yes!" the god said with a thunderous clap. "A job! Employment! Purpose! Money! Well, not money for you, but money for your soul!"
"That sounds… bad."
"Relax, you're already broke. How much worse could it be?"
"Fair point…"
The God of Games puffed his cigar, blowing out a cloud shaped like a game controller. "You, Jordan, were chosen for your… impressive lack of life success."
"…Huh?"
"A truly rare quality! While others fail but try again, you—" he pointed dramatically "... you failed and stayed on the ground! Splendid! A natural loser!"
"That doesn't sound like a compliment."l
"It isn't."
Jordan opened his mouth, but the god raised a hand. "No interruptions, Jobless One. Let me finish insulting you."
"…Okay."
"You see," the god continued, "among all the lazy, jobless, broken-hearted young adults rotting on your Earth, you stood out."
Jordan blinked slowly.
"Because you have nothing to lose. Absolutely nothing! A perfect candidate for field assignments!"
"Assign… what?"
The God of Games leaned back, placing his expensive shoes on the table. "A protagonist… a golden boy… a chosen hero… a sickeningly lucky bastard. I need someone to ruin him."
Jordan's brain froze. "…Sorry, what?"
"You will ruin him," the god repeated cheerfully. "You will take his opportunities, take his victories, take his future, take his women… basically, cuck him spiritually, emotionally, socially… all the -ly's. That is your new job."
As someone who'd gotten his girlfriend stolen, Jordan was pretty sensitive about the topic of cucking, like crying over old Instagram posts sensitive.
『Steal the protagonist's women』 wasn't exactly the kind of job description he expected to hear in a divine office, but here he was.
'But damn… what did this guy do to make this god this mad?' Jordan wondered as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"What did he do to make me mad?" the God of Games repeated with dramatic exasperation. "He's just so fucking annoying."
Jordan flinched. Wait, He didn't say that out loud.
The god reached into his pocket.
He was wearing the same style of trousers as Jordan yet managed to pull out an oversized leather book the size of a historical encyclopedia like he was pulling something out of a separate dimension.
"This," the god announced, slamming the book onto the desk so hard the room trembled, "is my Diary of Games. It contains every single game I've lived through."
"Lived through?" Jordan repeated.
"Oh, did I not say?" the god asked lightly then he smirked, lifted his chin, and laughed. "As the God of Games, I have the authority to insert myself into any game, or novel, or fantasy world you humans create. It's basically my superpower."
'That's basically all I've ever wanted in life…'
The god snapped his head toward him. "Yeah, how does it feel seeing someone who can live your dreams with a flick of his finger?"
Jordan stiffened. Okay… secretly listening to his thoughts was one thing. Mocking him for them was another. He brushed it off the first time but twice? Now he was suspicious.
"Are you… listening to my thoughts?"
"Yes," the god said without an ounce of shame. "It's convenient."
Jordan opened his mouth but the god cut him off with a raised hand.
"Anyway," he said briskly, flipping through the thick diary pages, "see this final name here?"
He turned the book around and pointed at the bottom entry. Jordan leaned forward, He recognized that title immediately and his eyes widened.
"No way."
"Yes way," the god said smugly.
"That's… 'Protagonist's POV.'" Jordan whispered.
The god nodded dramatically. "The very same, a steaming pile of narrative garbage."
Jordan's jaw tightened as he scanned the title over and over. He read that novel ages ago. It was trash. Like, trash-tower-of-babylon level trash. Not that the book was trash but the Protagonist ruined it.
He dropped back into his chair, completely stunned. "Ah… what were you doing in that novel? It's complete trash."
The God of Games shut the diary hard enough to create a gust of wind. He coughed… then blushed.
Jordan blinked. Did a god just blush?
"I liked one of the female leads… Astra," the god admitted, his cheeks reddening slightly. "So I reincarnated into the body of an extra and gave myself some overpowered skills but that idiot protagonist STILL managed to get her even after all those years I spent courting her! YEARS! And then… AND THEN he forced her to kill me because he was insecure!"
Jordan bit his lip. 'I mean… going for Astra is crazy.'
The god froze, slowly turned his head and glared. "I heard that. Astra supremacy, you fool."
Jordan gulped.
The god adjusted his tie like a mafia boss calming himself down, puffing a big ball of smoke. "Anyway. Do you understand what your job is now?"
Jordan scratched his cheek. "You're sending me into that world, right?"
"Correct."
"And… I'm reincarnating into someone?"
"Yes."
"…Who?"
The god leaned back dramatically and extended his arms. "You will reincarnate into the body of the Main Villain—"
"Wait, why the main villain?" Jordan interrupted. "Can't I go as someone else? Like a side character? A merchant? A noble? Anything else? Just not the literal stepping stone of the Protagonist…"
The god's left eye twitched. "The main villain is the only one with potential second to the protagonist. It's the only logical choice."
"But you said you reincarnated into an extra—"
The god exploded.
"What the fuck?!" He slammed both hands on the desk hard enough that the wood cracked. "What don't you understand about 'I can't use my powers freely again for the next year?!'"
"You didn't mention that."
"I HAVE NOW!" he barked.
He took a deep breath then he sat back down slowly, massaging his temples. "I can only extend my influence to a few people now. If you want to reincarnate as a commoner, I can arrange that but you will suck, horribly and the protagonist will beat you like a medieval rug."
Jordan shook his head quickly. "Fine… I'll take the main villain."
"Good," the god said, grabbing a cigar. "Finally someone listens."
Jordan cleared his throat. "So uh… when will I reincarnate?"
"Two months before the original plot begins," the god said, flicking ash shaped like broken tropes. "That gives you time to establish yourself properly."
Jordan nodded. It made sense.
"Now remember your goal," the god continued, raising a finger. "You are to seduce the women closest to the protagonist. Make them fall for you. Make him suffer. Emotionally. Spiritually. Biblically."
Jordan raised an eyebrow. "S-so the aunt too?"
"Yes," the god said immediately. "Especially the aunt, start with her. She's the easiest to sway. She's a lonely woman with marriage pressure… your specialty."
"That is not my specialty."
The god ignored that.
"If you get any of them on the bed," the god added with a wink, "you get additional rewards from your system."
Jordan blinked. "Rewards… from the system?"
"Well, yes," the god said dryly. "What? Did you think I'd send you in powerless? I'm petty, not stupid."
He snapped his fingers. A glowing white aura surrounded Jordan, it felt like warm electricity and was strangely comfortable.
Then the god snapped again. The aura began turning into white sparks like static electricity peeling off his body.
"What's happening?!" Jordan yelped.
"Oh, that's you dissolving into a soul particle state," the god explained casually. "It's totally normal and you'll get used to it."
Jordan's legs vanished then his torso and his hands too.
"You didn't tell me the full things about my mis…!"
"Oh shut up and say 『System』 when you get there, fucker!" the god shouted, waving dismissively.
And just like that…
Jordan dissolved completely into white sparks and vanished from the divine office.