《"What? I became a goddess?! But I am a guy!"》


 Chapter 1: The beginning

    This book is different than the rest of the series that I am working on, it''s just a fantasy-fulfilling book, if ykyk. The update schedule for this one will be irregular.


    I had always wanted to write something different once in a while, so this one is fresh air for me to breath in, quite new to this type of trope. And it''s a light smut book, just a guy trying to survive by cross-dressing, and also getting himself in trouble while doing so.


    Ridiculous story line too, so yeah. Take note on that.


    Enjoy!


    <hr>


    The rain cascaded down in thick sheets, slicking the streets of the neon-lit city, the sound of droplets tapping against windows and pavement blending with the distant rumble of thunder.


    The clouds were a heavy, swollen mass, crackling with sparks, streaking across the sky like veins of light.


    Yet, despite the ominous weather, the city was far from dark.


    The neon glow that clung to every building, every sign, and every street corner illuminated the wet roads, giving them shimmer.


    Pinks, blues, and purples flickered, casting vivid reflections that danced in the puddles.


    The storm, fierce as it was, seemed a mere backdrop to the city.


    The streets below were alive, the gleaming cars slipping through the rain-soaked roads like sleek machines in a futuristic dream.


    Each brake light flared a deep crimson, casting a ghostly glow through the rain, reflecting off the glossy pavement like droplets of blood in motion.


    The city''s pulse was unrelenting, but the scene shifted, rising upward, zooming in toward a single apartment window that overlooked the bustling street below.


    As the perspective pushed through the glass, the soft hum of the rain outside seemed to fade, replaced by the quiet warmth of the room within.


    It was a small apartment, cozy but cluttered with the telltale signs of youth. The boy lay on a low bed, deep in sleep, his breathing steady, undisturbed by the storm.


    His room told a story all its own.


    The shelves on the wall were filled to the brim with action figures, comic books, and old gaming consoles, the dust collecting in the crevices of controllers that were abandoned long ago.


    A few trophies, some decayed, stood among the collection, likely from school sports or competitions. He was quite an active boy when he was in high school.


    Shoes were scattered across the floor in a chaotic array, sneakers mostly, some with their laces undone, others tossed carelessly under the bed.


    Near the bed, a simple wooden table stood, the surface cluttered with a mix of schoolbooks, half-done homework, and stray pens.


    A crumpled energy drink can be sat beside an open notebook, hastily scribbled notes visible under the dim light. A set of wireless headphones hung carelessly over the corner of the table, their blinking lights signaling they needed a charge.


    The closet, slightly ajar, revealed a row of hanging clothes, mostly hoodies, graphic tees, and jackets, all in muted tones of black and grey. This tells a lot of the boy''s character.


    A few pairs of jeans were folded haphazardly on the shelf above, while the lower section was packed with more shoes, stacked unevenly atop each other, some still in their boxes.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The window, which had let the perspective enter, was tall and wide, framed by thin curtains that hung loosely on either side.


    The glass was streaked with rain, blurring the view of the neon-lit city outside.


    The distant glow of billboards and streetlights filtered into the room, casting faint, multicolored patterns across the walls, a dazzling interplay of light and shadow that moved in time with the flickering lights beyond.


    The boy slept on, peaceful amidst the chaos of his room and the storm outside, wrapped in the quiet hum of the distant rhythm of the city.


    The moment''s tranquility was almost mesmerizing, just a boy, resting deeply, the rhythm of his breathing in sync with the patter of rain outside.


    It was the kind of peace that came after long, exhausting days at the Academy, the rush of commuting, and the relentless grind of assignments.


    His body was draped in thick, soft sheets, enveloped in sleep comfort.


    The hum of electronics, the distant noise of the city''s neon lights, and the steady rain all contributed to a world that felt momentarily frozen, peaceful.


    Then, without warning, a voice, not from the room, not from outside, but from somewhere else entirely¡ªshattered the stillness.


    "[Commencing awakening protocol, please host, wake up.]"


    The voice was mechanical, yet oddly soothing, with a strange human like tone behind it.


    The boy''s eyes snapped open in a heartbeat, wide with confusion.


    He lay there, disoriented, his body still caught in the transition from sleep to wakefulness.


    His mind struggled to process what had just happened.


    Or whatever he had just heard. Like a muffled voice that had called out from the other side of the mirror, he was oblivious and also half-aware of the words.


    "Huh?" he muttered, his voice low and groggy, still half-lost in the remnants of his dream.


    He blinked a few times, trying to orient himself.


    His body shifted beneath the weight of the sheets, his shoes, still on for some reason, dragging against the fabric.


    He rolled over to his back, the creaking of the old wooden bed frame cutting through the quiet room.


    The sound was sharp, as though even the furniture was reacting to the abrupt disturbance.


    He slowly pushed himself up, still tangled in his sheets, his mind racing between half-conscious thoughts.


    What had he just heard?


    It made no sense, none of it did.


    Am I still dreaming about Mr. David''s huge nose?


    Hell, why am I even dreaming about that?


    Is this dream still related somehow?


    The rain outside continued to fall, tapping lightly against the window, but inside the room, something changed.


    With a final creak from the bed, he sat upright, scanning the room cautiously.


    Everything looked the same, his cluttered shelves, the glowing lights from his gaming PC, the rain-slicked window casting neon shadows on the walls.


    The voice hadn''t returned yet, but he felt strange.


    "I was sure that I heard something... is it the same thing again?" he muttered, his voice barely louder than the soft patter of rain against the window.


    His breath, now visible in the dim room, turned into a thin, frosty vapor, hanging in the air like a whisper of winter creeping in.


    The temperature had shifted subtly, unnoticed until now, and his eyes flicked nervously across the room, first to the shelves filled with toys and books, then to the glowing window streaked with rain, and finally to the open door of his room.


    The old door carpet cradled below, with some gashes left on the old yellow plank beneath.


    It wasn''t unusual for the door to be open. He often left it that way without thinking, like most boys his age.


    The grogginess from his sudden awakening clung to him, pulling at the edges of his consciousness, and he was still too disoriented to fully grasp what was happening.


    He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, a half-hearted attempt to shake off the sleep as he muttered, "Probably just some random noise."


    The chill in the air and the strange voice faded into the background of his thoughts as he shrugged off his unease.


    He tugged at the thick sheets, pulling them back over himself as he shifted, preparing to sink back into the warm comfort of his bed.


    His body leaned sideways, elbow supporting him as he began to lay down, this time on his left side.


    His focus was dull, his thoughts fuzzy as he let himself descend back into the soft mattress.


    But just as his eyes grazed the open door, something stopped him.


    "[Unsuitable behavior detected, please host wake up.]"


    The voice returned, clearer this time, cutting through the fog of his mind.


    His body jerked as he froze halfway to lying down, a groan of frustration escaping his lips.


    "Huh?" he groaned, his breath heavy, the grogginess mixing with a growing sense of confusion.


    His long black hair, wild and unkept, fell into his eyes as he tried to make sense of what was happening.


    This time, though, something caught his eye.


    It wasn''t the door he had been looking at seconds ago, no, it was something else entirely.


    It hovered there, glowing softly against the dimly lit room, a strange, floating blue screen that seemed completely out of place.


    "What the hell..." he gasped, the words slipping out without thought.


    His body tensed instinctively, but despite the shock, he found himself still nestled in the warm cocoon of his sheets.


    The warmth mattered more, surprisingly so.


    It was as if the weight of the moment, of the bizarre hallucination, hadn''t fully sunk in, or perhaps he was simply too tired to react with panic.


    It was strange, almost unnatural, how calm he felt in the face of something so wildly out of the ordinary.


    Anyone else would have jumped out of bed, freaked out, or at least gotten to their feet in alarm.


    But not him.


    No, his body remained stubbornly wrapped in the comfort of the bed, his breath still slow and steady despite strangeness.


    There was no rush to flee, no urgency to understand what was happening.


    Instead, a dry chuckle slipped from his lips, the kind that comes when you''re too tired to be properly afraid.


    "Do I really have to do this?" he muttered, his voice filled with resignation.


    A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stared at the floating panel, the light from the screen casting a soft blue glow across his face.


    [Yes host, it''s time to become a goddess] The system replied cheerfully.


    "Life sucks... "


    [I will make it brighter] :)

 Chapter 2: Acceptance after Denials

    A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stared at the floating panel, the light from the screen casting a soft blue glow across his face.


    The smile wasn''t one of joy or excitement, it was the kind that only came when faced with something too absurd to take seriously.


    Yet, deep down, there was a quiet despair growing in his chest.


    "[The system is fully bound to the host for eternity.]"


    The words appeared on the panel, clear and unyielding, driving the message home with a cold finality.


    "Eternity, huh..." he mumbled, staring at the words with a bitter chuckle.


    "I wonder how long eternity is? Maybe a million years?"


    "I wonder if scamming is still legit at that time or not?"


    With a sigh, he let his head fall back onto the pillow, eyes still fixed on the screen.


    It wasn''t that he didn''t want to resist.


    It was that he felt utterly powerless to do so.


    Deep down, he knew this world was anything but simple. The blue screen before him wasn''t a new occurrence.


    It had first appeared on his fifteenth birthday, a day he had hoped would be special, even if he was alone in his room enjoying it on his own.


    He remembered the joy of unwrapping a gift to himself, a new game, a small celebration of one to practice his right hand.


    But that happiness had shattered in an instant when the screen flickered into view, bright and impossible.


    His initial reaction had been pure panic.


    He had screamed, calling out to no one, desperately hoping that someone else could see the absurdity unfolding in front of him.


    The fear had been overwhelming, a tidal wave crashing over the joy of the moment.


    He had rushed to check mirrors, glanced at his phone, and shouted for help, seeking validation in a world that felt suddenly surreal.


    In a frantic attempt to rid himself of this strange phenomenon, he had even sought the help of a shaman, spending hundreds of dollars in the hopes that the arcane arts of a liar could provide some solution.


    The shaman had muttered incantations and waved crystals, but no matter what he did, the system remained.


    Well, a shaman and a scammer, what are the differences?


    Hell, even if there''s a slight chance of it working out, he will try it without batting an eye to the consequences no matter how stupid it may sound to other people''s ears.


    That''s not only it, it would appear out of nowhere, constantly reminding him that his actions didn''t align with some bizarre standard of "certain behavior"


    Noises kept popping up, messages urging him to act, to change, but he brushed them aside with growing indifference.


    Over time, the constant barrage of reminders dulled his senses.


    He grew numb to the strangeness, shoving the reality of it deep into the recesses of his mind, denying the weight it added to his existence.


    Now, as he stared at the floating blue panel, a familiar sense of futility washed over him.


    He knew that this world wasn''t a normal place at hand, well to be precise this world wasn''t what he was used to.


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    It was as sudden as it was, a thunder that pierced the sky and a sleepless night of trying to win in a game on his pc.


    And the next morning, everything changed and also nothing changed.


    It must have sounded crazy right? Yes, the world is crazy.


    The number of the population has been boosted by a ridiculous amount, can you comprehend it?


    There are over 2.4 trillion humans that are currently living on this planet, how is that even possible?


    Wouldn''t that be an impossible feat to achieve, and we the human race did?


    As he looked outside the window, what came into his view was much more butchered urbanization and also modernization.


    Towering buildings are scattered throughout the view, and roads are layered repeatedly.


    The pace of the technology didn''t change much but somehow managed to hold this much population on god knows ways.


    Well, it''s a way if he must say so.


    In this world, some are called the awakeners, people with powers that could turn the sea and pluck the stars in the sky.


    It is as those words on the internet had said so.


    He had seen videos of humans fighting against monsters in the forest, in the sea, and in other places.


    As for more information, it was classified.


    The fact that this planet had expanded countless times to accommodate all of this strangeness was revealed to the public, and for more information, it was hidden by the government.


    Where did those monsters come from?


    Why did the world suddenly expand so much?


    How did humans gain the awakening power?


    The answers to these questions were hidden from public view. Perhaps only those awakeners knew the answer to these.


    The system did surprise him, but it died down almost gradually given the changes in the world that had taken place.


    "The world is weird, and a strange system is telling me to act like a girl every time it can" The boy messes with his hair in front of the mirror, combing his uneven terrace over his head, a deep black hue that mirrored before him.


    And to add to that, he will be entering the last week of his senior year tomorrow, and also the important day of awakener trials the on Wednesday.


    Where billions of students from all over the world will undertake an awakening test that will either change their lives for the most part or remain normal like the rest forever.


    "Hell..." he grumbled, his gaze drifting over the messy table, littered with crumpled papers and empty energy drink cans.


    It was a small refuge from chaos in a world that felt increasingly out of his control. "Can I not just go and just stay in my room all the time" The words slipped out, laced with a bitter humor that felt more like a defense mechanism than genuine hope.


    He is an orphan, losing both his parents in a certain mission that they had taken years before.


    Yes, their parents were an awakener, though he didn''t have that many feelings towards them as in his prior world, his parents were a bit too "physically abusive"


    And since they are gone, he felt nothing of their presence other than a simple thank you, since the government will pay him plenty every month as a means of payment incentive for his deceased awakened parents.


    His eyes wandered back to his reflection in the screen, taking in the face staring back at him, a spotless visage that many would envy.


    His skin was clear, almost luminescent like a crystal lake catching the sunlight.


    And then there was his hair, long and cascading down to his shoulders, framing his face in a way that felt strangely alien.


    It had once been a rebellious choice, but now it seemed as if the system was reshaping him without his consent, slowly morphing him into something he barely recognized.


    "It''s changing me, slowly," he muttered.


    No matter how many times he cut his hair, it always grew back, lush and vibrant, as if it had a mind of its own.


    Each snip of the scissors was like a fleeting rebellion, only to be undone in the blink of an eye, much like the fairy tale of Cinderella''s magical transformation.


    But instead of a glamorous change, he felt trapped in a narrative that blurred the lines between reality and some surreal fantasy he hadn''t chosen.


    "Fuck me..." he cursed, the frustration bubbling to the surface.


    It was the first curse of the day, and it felt oddly liberating, even if just for a moment.


    He ran a hand through his hair, fingers combing through the soft strands, but the dead look was apparent.


    "Might as well, just go along and live my life as it is... "


    "Becoming a girl, huh?" his eyes gleamed under the uttered words, with a single brush over his head that pulled his hair to the back, revealing a spotless face that was different compared to the years before.


    He leaned back against the headboard, feeling the weight of his newfound confusion rather appalling and also... exciting.


    But the latter would be hidden deep down inside his mind.


    The blue screen still hovered in his periphery, a reminder that there was no escaping this new reality.


    Despite its presence, he gave no attention to it and resumed his business.


    And after some time, he sighed heavily.


    With that, he finally let go of his resistance against the strange system that had invaded his life for the past two years.


    Denial had been his refuge, but it was time to face the reality that had become his existence.


    The system had haunted him, a relentless presence that refused to fade, and the weight of that truth settled heavily on his shoulders.


    But this system might also be the one key for him to climb higher in this strange world.


    If given the chance, who would refuse the opportunity to rise above the others?


    No matter how depraved and ugly the path might be, he is willing to take it.


    "It''s time for a stroll then," he muttered under his breath, pushing the comforting weight of the sheets aside.


    "I hope it won''t rain tonight"

 Chapter 3:Not gay though

    His legs dangled over the edge of the bed, barely brushing the soft quilt below.


    At 158 cm tall, he was shorter than most of his peers, something that occasionally gnawed at him, though he often told himself height wasn¡¯t everything.


    A small lie to keep the insecurities at bay, convincing himself that he didn¡¯t look too much like a sissy compared to his taller, broader friends at school.


    It was a fragile shield, but it worked most days.


    He trudged to the edge of the bed, feeling as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, the warm, cozy bed beneath him like a haven he didn¡¯t want to leave.


    Kicking off his bed shoes, he rearmed his feet with a pair of bunny indoor slippers, soft and fluffy, a guilty pleasure he never spoke of aloud.


    They were absurdly cute, but the comfort they provided was unmatched, and he allowed himself this small joy, even as a slight nudge of embarrassment tugged at his mind.


    With a resigned sigh, he stood up, well, not too tall, then made his way to the closet on the far side of the room.


    The doors creaked as he opened them, revealing two distinct sections of clothing within.


    The closet itself was a project he''d crafted with his own hands: simple woodworking, a few screws, and basic tools lying around the house.


    It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was his, and that gave him a quiet sense of pride.


    To the left, a dense array of male clothes hung, tightly packed together, hoodies, shirts, jeans, all carefully folded or draped.


    Standard stuff, all of it plain and designed to fit in.


    To the right, however, was a different story. A set of clothing far more personal, far more true to who he was, hung there, almost untouched.


    Feminine, soft, vibrant, skirts, blouses, delicate fabrics that he had bought in secret and rarely dared to wear outside the confines of his room.


    Each piece was a quiet rebellion against the rigid image he projected to the world, a small sliver of freedom he''d kept hidden for far too long.


    "I wasn''t like this before... " He sighed.


    "But instead of wearing male clothes and being mistaken as a tomboy all the time... " He uttered, a faint hesitation tugging at the corner of his mind, but then it was forced and coerced away under an invisible hand.


    And he continued his usually unspoken thoughts "Might as well dress up as one and cheat idiotic men some money while pretending to like them"


    There is it...


    The other side of his that he usually doesn''t show on the surface.


    Well, he is afraid to do so. The fear of being rejected by society or even facing the consequences of the said act and many more he had in mind.


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    That was the final string that he feared might occur if he were to delve too deep into this closet identity.


    He stared at the right side of the closet, his reflection faintly visible in the door¡¯s glass panel.


    His long, unkempt hair framed his face, giving him an androgynous look that he had come to accept, even if reluctantly at first.


    The system had pushed him, no, forced him, to embrace this transformation, slowly and steadily.


    He had fought it, resisted the changes at every turn, but now¡­ he realized he couldn¡¯t deny it any longer.


    "It''s time to be true to myself, huh..." he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though saying it louder would make it too real.


    His hand hovered over the clothes on the right, fingers brushing lightly against the fabric.


    It was soft, inviting, and felt more like him*than the bulky, oversized hoodies on the other side.


    There was no going back now, not when the system had bound itself to him, not when he had already started to change in ways he couldn¡¯t control.


    Maybe, just maybe, accepting this side of himself wouldn¡¯t be as terrifying as he had once thought.


    "Enjoying life a bit won''t hurt, and also... maybe this system can help me on the path of the awakeners"


    Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the outfit.


    "Oh btw, I am not gay"


    ----


    ----


    ----


    ----


    Mize stood before the mirror, the weight of the dress settling around his slim frame as he adjusted the collar that hugged his neck.


    The black fabric was sleek, flowing down his body in elegant folds.


    The dress was long, reaching down to his ankles, its dark hue as deep and rich as the night sky.


    It clung to his slender form in just the right places, accentuating his graceful silhouette, while the subtle pleats at the waist gave it a soft, flowing movement.


    The collar, high and adorned with delicate silver embroidery, added a regal touch as if it had been plucked straight from the wardrobe of a medieval noblewoman.


    The shoes he had chosen, a short-heeled pair made of polished wood and smooth leather, were an odd, anachronistic choice in a world where fashion had evolved into a strange blend of medieval and modern aesthetics.


    The heels clicked softly against the tiled bathroom floor as he turned slightly, admiring the way they matched the elegance of the dress without detracting from its simplicity.


    Around his wrists were thin silver bangles, each one delicately etched with intricate designs that caught the light whenever he moved.


    A single black ribbon was tied around his waist, a small but striking contrast against the flowing fabric of the dress, cinching his figure.


    His long hair, smooth and dark, fell down his back in a cascade, brushing against the collar and framing his face with an effortless beauty.


    He ran his fingers through it, pushing it over his shoulders so it could fall more naturally, its silky strands adding to the femininity of his overall appearance.


    His face, however, was the centerpiece of the reflection that stared back at him. His skin was flawless, a porcelain-like smoothness that gave him an ethereal, almost doll-like beauty.


    His cheekbones were high, his lips full and naturally tinted with a soft pink hue. But it was his eyes that drew the most attention, their ruby-red irises glinting in the dim light of the bathroom.


    They gleamed with an unnatural vibrancy, a striking contrast to his otherwise serene expression, and gave him an alluring look.


    They were like two jewels set in the soft contours of his face, reminding him of the strange system that had changed him over time.


    He stared at himself for a long moment, taking in every detail.


    The transformation was undeniable. In this dress, with his long hair and soft features, he looked nothing like the boy he had been two years ago.


    One could easily mistake him for some random pretty girl on the street, just living her life normally, going to the mall, to the cafe, and so on.


    [Looks beautiful! Now get out of there and hook some men up]


    The familiar sound echoed in his mind, interrupting his thoughts.


    He hardly flinched at it now, having grown accustomed to the system''s existence.


    Over the last two years, without even fully realizing it, he had been accumulating points through these subtle changes, through this strange hobby of dressing up and embracing the feminine aspects of his appearance.


    He wasn¡¯t even sure how many points he had anymore, but the system had never made much sense to him in the first place.


    Mize sighed, deciding to open the system panel for the very first time.


    The translucent blue square materialized before him, hovering in the air with its cold, digital glow.

 Chapter 4: Points, appearance, changes.

    [Host: Mize Adhart]


    [Int]: 5


    [Str]: 3


    [Wis]: 6


    [Dex]: 5


    [Agi]: 5


    [Beauty level]: 65


    [Cute level]: 60


    [Charm level]: 64


    [Current points]: 32,100


    [Note: The exchange rate between points for appearance is 1,000 points for 1 increase. For physical attribute points, it is 10,000 points for 1 increase.]


    ---


    He glanced at his stats, eyebrows knitting together as he mulled over the numbers.


    His hand rested thoughtfully on his chin, contemplating what these attributes meant and how they might work.


    "What''s the basis of me earning points, really?" he asked aloud, hoping the system would provide an answer.


    [Anything that is from being a normal female habit and action to anything beyond the depraving and moral degradation line.]


    The response felt vague, unsettling even.


    Mize frowned.


    "That sounds vague."


    [As in, the closer the host''s nature and actions are to the goddess trait, the higher the points the host can gain.]


    [With points, the host can enhance the current appearance and even physical or spiritual attributes]


    [Through it is highly advisable to increase the appearance first]


    [And like the divine, there are good divine and evil divine, one of kindness and the other of deprivation, or one can be both]


    The answer hit him like a slow, creeping realization.


    He stared at his reflection, his ruby eyes glinting with a mix of intrigue and disbelief.


    "So, you¡¯re telling me I should be a whore?" he asked, his voice soft but laden with a dark curiosity.


    [The partner can be repeated, a sole partner, or anything that the host wishes. It is entirely up to the host''s decision]


    [If the host values pure love, then the host can go for a single target at a time]


    [And if the host values the opposite, the host can proceed to do so]


    [The path of the strong knows no line between the good and evil]


    Mize¡¯s lips curled into a small smile, his mind playing with the possibilities.


    His eyes glinted under the soft bathroom light, the reflection of his transformed self shimmering in the mirror.


    "I see..." he muttered, his soft hum escaping from the lip.


    Mize''s eyes flicked back to the last column on the panel, locking onto the number of points he had amassed over time. The smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth was apparent.


    "32,100 points..." he whispered to himself. "Enough for 32 appearance points or just 3 physical points according to the exchange rate"


    He mulled it over, the gears in his mind turning slowly. Physical points would be useful, no doubt about that.


    Having more strength, agility, or dexterity might come in handy for situations he couldn¡¯t foresee yet.


    But there was a catch, he had no baseline for these physical stats.


    He didn¡¯t know what a mere three-point increase in strength or agility would even feel like.


    Would it make him noticeably stronger, or would the change be so subtle it wouldn''t matter?


    His fingers tapped lightly on the translucent panel as he thought.


    "But appearance... that''s a known quantity," he muttered under his breath. "I already know what I look like, and if 32 points could push my beauty or charm to another level..."


    He trailed off, a gleam in his ruby-red eyes.


    The thought ignited something deep within him like a slowly growing flame, a kind of forbidden flame that he shouldn''t have harbored about in the very first place.


    He had always wondered what it would be like to wield the kind of power that came not from physical strength, but from sheer allure.


    Beauty as a weapon, charm as a tool to bend others to his will.


    The idea of using his appearance to manipulate situations... to watch as people fell over themselves trying to impress him, to bask in their admiration and then discard them like broken toys when they no longer amused him.


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    He smirked at the thought, a bit of self-blaming that such thoughts existed somewhere at the back of his mind.


    "How would it feel to go on a date and never have to pay... to make someone fall head over heels, only to ditch them the moment they¡¯ve served their purpose?"


    It was a twisted fantasy, but the thrill of it made his heart race.


    He had always been curious, what was it like to be adored by everyone, wanted by all, yet unattainable?


    To live in a world where every glance from a man was filled with longing, where every compliment was laced with desperation, knowing full well none of them would ever have the slightest chance with him?


    "Absurd," he muttered, shaking his head slightly.


    But the smirk on his lips said otherwise. The idea of it all was intoxicating, an exciting prospect that made his chest tighten.


    Though in reality, such beauty would be a curse instead of an advantage.


    He bit his lip as he weighed his options.


    Physical strength would be useful, but appearance, that was something he could exploit immediately.


    ¡°Beauty,¡± he whispered, almost to himself.


    It was a tool, a weapon, something that could open doors and control the narrative around him.


    "Well, now I sounded like a pervert huh, an evil one at that"


    [The divine of depravation sounds fitting, Host]


    His fingers hovered over the exchange option on the blue panel.


    The allure of those thoughts was extremely tempting, so tempting that he felt, the consequences could be thought later.


    He had always been a loner, discarded on the corner, and was raised in an abusive household that caused him severe depression even till now.


    He still remembered it, the moment the world changed, the first day of it was filled with excitement and also anticipation.


    Perhaps he has many friends in this different version of the earth?


    Perhaps a close friend?


    Perhaps even someone to talk to normally without being looked down upon?


    Perhaps not being sexualized or taken advantage of?


    Wrong, he was utterly wrong as everything else remained the same other than the changes in the world itself.


    As for him and his life, nothing much changes as he is and will always be the sole loner in the corner of the classroom.


    32 points.


    "I guess it''s time to see what 32 points of beauty look like" The thought of this ignited in an instant after the train of self-depreciating thoughts had occurred just now.


    Without any hesitation, he then hovered his fingers over the panel once again, his eyes locked onto a certain number of meters that highlighted the beauty words on it.


    "There is no indication that per points will increase as so, so I should pour 1 first to see how it changes" He murmured to himself, a voice that wasn''t loud nor quiet, just barely enough for him to hear within this confine of his room.


    And if his guess were true, then he had made the best choice not to invest in the physical increases first instead of this.


    Who knows how many points it will take just to increase it by one, given how hard it is to gain points?


    Thus it happened, as his finger tapped over the plus button on the side of the beauty column.


    Ding, well... it''s just a ding but the number remained the same.


    "As expected, no way it can be that easy to increase these points" Mize smiled knowingly as he had anticipated this situation to occur.


    "then... let''s see how many points are needed just to increase this beauty trait by one" His fingers kept brushing the column one after another, the noise that it made each time tingled his ears.


    Ding...


    Ding...


    Ding...


    That was not until this tenth press, that the number finally changed.


    [Beauty level]: 66


    "It increased!" Mize shrieked with a smile.


    Though...


    "Just by one point... " His smile faded into the dark shade on the side, as the light of the room didn''t reach far enough to cover the corner of this room.


    Well, it was to be as expected, but he can''t help but be disappointed over this revelation.


    He hoped for the impossible to be possible despite the low chance of it happening.


    "Well... that''s better than nothing. I guess... " He mused


    Mize watched as the blue panel flickered slightly, recalibrating the numbers after his exchange.


    His beauty points, which had sat comfortably at 66, surged forward, ticking up by 2 more points to reach 68. The changes were subtle yet undeniable.


    His reflection in the mirror shimmered as if the very air around him had shifted.


    He stared at his face, his ruby-red eyes more captivating than before.


    The contours of his features seemed slightly sharper, more refined as if an artist had taken a brush and perfected every angle.


    His skin, already smooth, now appeared flawless, glowing with a soft, radiant sheen.


    The cascade of hair falling over his shoulders looked fuller, with a shine that caught the light just right, each strand flowing like silk.


    The dress, too, seemed to fit him more perfectly than before, as though his body had subtly adjusted.


    Every fold of fabric, every accessory, seemed to highlight his appearance, amplifying his grace and elegance.


    His once-slightly awkward height now worked in his favor, giving him a delicate, ethereal presence.


    [A legal loli host, ah yes a loli coming of age]


    "..."


    He took a step closer to the mirror, marveling at the transformation.


    It wasn¡¯t a complete overhaul, he hadn¡¯t expected that, but the subtle enhancements were more than enough.


    ¡°I¡¯m close¡­¡± Mize murmured, admiring the way his features had subtly adjusted.


    "And I can control the length of my hair at will? that''s convenience"


    "Let''s go for a walk, shall we?"


    Mize smiled effortlessly at his reflection, a beauty so carefully sculpted it now felt surreal, even to him.


    His ruby-red eyes flickered toward the window, capturing the dazzling city lights that stretched beneath the dark sky, casting a neon glow over the towering skyline.


    The chaotic dance of cars and pedestrians below seemed distant as if it were another world altogether.


    His world was far more serene and centered entirely on him.


    Turning away from the window, Mize strode toward the front door of his apartment, unlocking it with an elegant flick of his wrist.


    His other hand grasped the black heels he had selected earlier, modest by today''s standards, but still striking.


    With slow, deliberate movements, he bent to slide the heels onto his feet, feeling the unfamiliar weight pressing against his soles.


    It was cold...


    The discomfort was palpable, a jolt of realization that this current self would be his new self from now on.


    With a soft click, the door swung open, and Mize stepped out into the corridor.


    The hallway stretched long and narrow before him, bathed in a brighter-than-usual glow.


    The pale fluorescent lights buzzed slightly overhead, an almost imperceptible hum that cut through the otherwise quiet air.


    It was unusual, the landlord, notorious for cutting corners, had splurged on keeping the lights on longer than usual.


    A fleeting thought crossed Mize''s mind. Perhaps there was some sort of inspection coming up. He shrugged the idea away as quickly as it came.


    His heels echoed crisply against the concrete floor, each step slow.


    He moved with elegance, his small black bag, more a metallic-styled pouch than a true handbag, tucked neatly under his arm.


    It was sleek, understated, carrying only the essentials: his phone, a small wallet, and a tube of lipstick he hadn¡¯t even intended to use.


    Room 456. He passed the number without so much as a glance back.


    The number meant nothing to him, just a space where he lived, slept, and bided his time.


    The corridor stretched on, familiar in its mundanity.


    Apartment doors, all identical except for the tarnished brass numbers, lined the walls.


    It was a far cry from the glitzy nightlife outside, but it suited Mize.


    He didn¡¯t need the world¡¯s attention here, he needed it out there.


    As he approached the lift at the end of the hall, Mize briefly considered the stairs to his right.


    He had no intention of walking tonight, this stroll wasn¡¯t about exercise.


    Instead, he pressed the button to call the lift. The glowing numbers above the doors flickered and then began their descent from the 70th floor, slowly counting down to his level.

 Chapter 5: I was so cool just now!

    He stood poised, holding his bag with one arm while his free hand idly swiped through his phone.


    The screen lit up his face in a cool blue glow, reflecting in his crimson ruby-like eyes as he scrolled through news articles, messages, and notifications he had little interest in.


    His mind was elsewhere, seemingly to be lost in thought as he waited for the lift to come.


    A couple of moments later.


    ding...


    The lift finally arrived with a soft chime.


    As the doors slid open, the bright overhead lights revealed a man standing inside.


    He was average-looking, perhaps in his mid-twenties, with a casual shirt, shorts, and thick-framed glasses perched awkwardly on his nose.


    His hair, cut into a messy, almost nerdy style, did little to hide the nervous vibe evident in the air the moment he saw this beautiful girl who was standing still before the lift''s entrance.


    ¡°Umm... miss, are you coming in?¡± The man¡¯s voice cracked, his hand inside both of his pockets fidgeted.


    Mize¡¯s eyes lifted from his phone, locking onto the man without a word.


    ''How should I act?''


    ''Sassy?''


    ''Arrogant?''


    ''Bold?''


    ''Shy?''


    Mize was confused for a moment, unable to choose which reactions should his body and expression carry.


    There was a momentary pause, the silence between them stretching long enough for discomfort to settle into the man''s posture.


    His grip tightened inside the pocket, latched out in an instant onto the handrail inside the lift, his gaze flickering nervously between Mize¡¯s poised figure and the floor.


    Then, as if decided, Mize tried a brand new personality for testing today''s night.


    Mize stepped forward, his heels clicking softly against the concrete as he entered the lift, still not acknowledging the man¡¯s greeting.


    His posture remained, his hips swayed ever so slightly, emphasizing the smooth lines of his black dress as he moved.


    Once inside, he positioned himself against the wall, one hand casually resting on his hip, the other continuing to scroll through his phone as if the man beside him didn¡¯t exist.


    The man shifted awkwardly, fidgeting as he stood next to her. His eyes darted from the lift panel to Mize¡¯s reflection in the mirror.


    The silence hung heavily between them, broken only by the soft hum of the elevator as it descended.


    Mize, however, remained in his world, entirely unaffected by the awkwardness surrounding him.


    ''Good, keep the act''


    ''Be cool... Be cool''


    The man''s reflection stared back at him from the mirrored wall of the lift.


    The dress hugged his frame perfectly, its dark fabric contrasting with the soft glow of his pale skin.


    His collar gave him a touch of wild elegance, a strange fusion of style that only enhanced the overall look.


    His long and silky hair cascaded over his shoulders, framing his face perfectly as it went down to waist length, a rare one to be sighted, he must admit.


    ''But his eyes'' tose deep, ruby-red eyes truly captivated him.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    They sparkled in the dim light, drawing attention to the sharpness of his features, the high cheekbones, and the soft curve of his lips.


    She was beautiful, but more than that, she was magnetic, impossible to look away from.


    The man beside him was struggling. He shifted nervously, his eyes occasionally flicking toward Mize before quickly looking away, as though he feared being caught staring.


    Mize smirked inwardly but continued to ignore him, letting the tension build.


    Mize wasn''t planning on anything right now, more focused on the night walk itself, experimenting with some of the plans he had in mind and coming back as early as he could, after all... ''Tomorrow is Monday'' He cursed..


    Mize smirked inwardly, his eyes still fixed on his phone, fingers idly swiping through the dating app as if he had no care in the world.


    The man beside him was practically radiating nervous energy, his subtle glances not going unnoticed by Mize.


    Despite the man¡¯s awkwardness, Mize found the situation mildly amusing.


    The guy wasn¡¯t bad-looking, not by traditional standards, but he was wrapped in such a thick layer of self-doubt that it was almost painful to witness.


    Reminded him of his true self. ''Pity...''


    ¡®He¡¯s not that bad,¡¯ Mize muttered to himself, his gaze flickering for a moment toward the man before shifting back to his phone.


    He scrolled through the dating app as though bored, not particularly invested in anyone he saw but keeping up appearances.


    On the other side of the elevator, the man was mentally spiraling. His eyes darted toward Mize and then quickly away, only to return seconds later.


    Each stolen glance added to the growing tension in the confined space.


    ''She¡¯s beautiful, but... Argh! Should I ask for her number? No, that¡¯ll make me look like a creep. I don¡¯t want to come off as weird''


    The man¡¯s thoughts churned relentlessly. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.


    He tugged at his collar, adjusted his glasses, and shifted from one foot to the other as if the very act of standing still was a challenge.


    ''But... I probably look creepy already. Who would even want to talk to someone like me? She¡¯s way out of my league, and I¡¯m just... this''


    Mize could sense the internal struggle, even without directly acknowledging it.


    The air in the elevator felt steamy with the man¡¯s nervousness.


    He could practically hear the gears grinding in the guy¡¯s head, each thought spiraling deeper.


    It was fascinating, watching someone so caught up in their mind, especially when the solution was so simple.


    ''Confidence'' Mize thought. ''That''s all it takes. Most people don¡¯t realize how little it takes to tip the scale in their favor''


    ''Though I am one to say about this, I am the same myself as this guy''


    ''Well... dressing differently makes up most of the confidence that I didn''t have''


    He wasn¡¯t exactly sure why he cared enough to even notice the guy¡¯s inner turmoil, but something about the situation tugged at him.


    The lift began to slow, signaling that their descent was nearly over.


    The man¡¯s anxiety seemed to reach its peak, his breathing just slightly more erratic than it had been before.


    He swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he adjusted his glasses for the third time in the last minute.


    Without thinking, Mize tapped a message to himself on the dating app, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.


    Then, as if he had decided his next course of actions, he nodded with a hum.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t overthink it if I were you,¡± Mize said suddenly, his voice cutting through the thick silence.


    The man jerked slightly, clearly startled that Mize had spoken at all, let alone directly to him.


    ¡°W-what do you mean?¡± the man stammered, his eyes wide and a little unsure.


    Mize¡¯s eyes flicked up from his phone, locking onto the man¡¯s for the first time since they entered the lift.


    He tilted his head, a smile curling his lips.


    ¡°You keep looking over,¡± Mize continued his tone light, almost teasing. ¡°I¡¯m not going to bite, you know. If you want to talk, just talk.¡±


    The man¡¯s face flushed a deep shade of red, his nervousness hitting a new level. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to¡±


    Mize chuckled softly, cutting him off before he could spiral further. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Really. I¡¯m just saying, you¡¯re overthinking it¡± He glanced at the man¡¯s flustered expression and then back at his phone. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry so much about how you come across. Confidence goes a long way.¡±


    The man blinked, clearly taken aback by the comment, as if he hadn¡¯t expected someone like Mize to offer such straightforward advice.


    For a moment, he seemed to be grappling with how to respond, his mind racing to process the conversation.


    ¡°I just... I didn¡¯t want to bother you,¡± the man muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Mize shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re not. But hesitating like that, constantly second-guessing yourself, it shows. People pick up on that.¡± He paused, his gaze softening slightly. ¡°Just be more sure of yourself. It makes a difference.¡±


    The man nodded slowly, absorbing the words like a student listening to a teacher.


    His shoulders seemed to relax just a bit, the tightness in his posture loosening as he took in Mize¡¯s advice.


    The lift dinged softly as it reached the ground floor.


    Mize stepped out first, his heels clicking against the tiled floor with a practiced grace. Before the man could exit, Mize turned back for a moment, a glint in his eyes.


    ¡°By the way,¡± he said, ¡°if you want my number, you could just ask.¡±


    The man froze, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as Mize¡¯s words sunk in.


    But before he could say anything, Mize gave him a playful wink and continued walking, leaving the man standing dumbfounded in the lift as the doors began to close behind him.


    A smile tugged at Mize¡¯s lips as he walked out into the cool night air.


    ''I was so cool!!!'' He inwardly shrieked inside. His heart beating wildly after all, he had never thought he would be able to pull it off in the first.


    "First man, check. Though he''s an ordinary one. Gotta find more harder target to see whether I could pull the same act or not"


    [It would be impossible to do the same in front of those "people" host]


    "Huh?"


    [You will understand soon]

 Chapter 6: Derek guy, another personality test.

    Derek Nolan was the kind of guy who always flew under the radar.


    To most, he was just another face in the crowd, a bit of a nerd with a passion for gaming.


    People didn¡¯t know that Derek had built a successful career as a day trader.


    He had a keen eye for the market, pulling in more than enough to live comfortably, but his social skills, especially with women, left much to be explored.


    With no love life to speak of, he buried himself in the virtual world, particularly in League of Mythic, where he¡¯d earned the nickname ¡°The King of Laning¡±.


    He majored in several tournaments before, the name resounded loud and far, but really... no one other than those who were the same as him would care.


    He wasn¡¯t exactly a looker. Average height, a bit of a paunch from too many late-night snacks, and perpetually tousled brown hair that seemed immune to the concept of styling.


    His rectangular glasses often sat crooked on his face, and his wardrobe was as basic as it got, jeans, old graphic tees, and hoodies.


    Tonight was no different.


    Derek sat in his usual spot at the cyber caf¨¦, hunched over his keyboard, his fingers flying as he guided his character through another match.


    His headset was glued to his head, the mic in front of his mouth as he let loose a string of frustrated curses.


    ¡°Are you serious, you brain-dead idiot?!¡± Derek shouted into the mic, his voice thick with irritation. ¡°You missed the stun! How hard is it to click?! I swear, I''m playing with a bunch of chimps!¡±


    "Even a monkey can do better than most of you!"


    "What are you doing! Spatial awareness please!"


    "Use your god damn skills properly!"


    The rest of his team could hear him loud and clear, but Derek didn¡¯t care.


    This was his outlet, his way of releasing the tension.


    ¡°Top¡¯s feeding again! What are you doing up there?!¡± he continued, the rage in his voice loud and clear.


    He barely noticed the other people in the caf¨¦, he was so focused on the screen.


    His champion darted around the map, and for a moment, it seemed like his team might pull off a comeback.


    Suddenly, a hand nudged his shoulder from the side.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Derek muttered, his eyes still glued to the screen, fingers mid-action.


    His champion had just landed a perfect ability chain, and the game was too tense to be distracted now.


    He didn¡¯t look up, assuming it was just some random person trying to get his attention.


    "Why are you bothering me right now?"


    Derek growled, his voice a mix of confusion and annoyance. Then, his eyes turned and immediately was stunned for a good sdcond.


    Derek¡¯s eyes widened as the words left her lips, echoing in his head.


    "Umm, are you the so-called King of Laning that I heard about?"


    For a second, he froze. The voice, soft, delicate, and somehow carrying that crisp charm, hit him like a ton of bricks.


    He wasn¡¯t used to beautiful women approaching him, much less talking about his in-game achievements.


    A shaky smile forced itself onto his face, but it quickly became genuine as he nodded furiously.


    "Y-yes, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s me!" He repeated himself, almost stammering, his heart racing like he was mid-game.


    ¡®No way¡­ no freaking way! This can¡¯t be happening. Someone like her¡­ is talking to me? Is this a joke? A dare from her friends?''


    His mind was in overdrive, the usual nerves that twisted his stomach returning tenfold, but this was a different kind of excitement.


    She wasn¡¯t asking for directions.


    She wasn¡¯t even brushing him off like so many had before. She was interested in the game, his game, and that sent waves of shock through him.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Then she smiled, a soft, enticing smile that made him almost dizzy with disbelief as he turned his head.


    "Would you mind if I played a game with you? I¡¯ve been hearing a lot about you, and I think I could learn a thing or two." She tilted her head, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, and Derek felt his knees go weak, though he was already sitting down.


    "A-a game with me?" Derek¡¯s voice cracked slightly.


    He cleared his throat and glanced around nervously at his team still playing on screen, feeling the importance of the request sinking in.


    "Yeah... yeah! Of course! I¡¯d love that!" His hands darted to the keyboard, quickly opening the party menu and scrolling to the bottom of the team list.


    One teammate in particular had been underperforming for the past few rounds anyway.


    "Sorry, buddy. Owe one for the man!" Derek whispered under his breath as he kicked the unfortunate player from his team.


    Without missing a beat, he gestured to the empty seat next to him. "You can sit here. I¡¯ll walk you through the basics."


    Mize smiled warmly and shyly as she slid into the chair beside him.


    Her movements were graceful, deliberate, everything about her radiated elegance, and Derek, for all his gaming prowess, felt awkwardly clumsy next to her.


    He adjusted his glasses, trying to focus on the screen, but her presence was tickled him somewhere he doesn''t know or even aware of.


    As the game loaded, Derek explained the basic mechanics, pointing out the map, her character¡¯s abilities, and how landing worked.


    "So, in League of Mythic, you¡¯re going to want to stay in lane and get as much gold as possible while denying the enemy team their gold. I¡¯ll keep an eye on you while you¡¯re learning. I¡¯ll play jungler, and you can go mid-lane, okay?"


    Mize nodded, her eyes seemingly glued to the screen, but Derek couldn¡¯t help but notice her leaning in slightly, her shoulder just barely brushing against his. His heart skipped a beat.


    It was a classic game, the account was borrowed from him to her for free, and the two began to play.


    The match began, and Derek, despite his nervousness, quickly got into his usual rhythm.


    His character, an armored knight wielding a massive lance, charged down the middle lane, engaging in a furious back-and-forth with the enemy mid-laner, helping Mize to ward off the enemy from gaining the upper hand.


    Meanwhile, Mize had chosen a mage, a princess-like character, wielding a staff that glowed with a radiant light.


    She was a support class, despite being in the mid-lane, and as Derek took glances at her screen, he noticed she was doing surprisingly well for a beginner.


    "You¡¯re a natural," Derek commented with a chuckle as he watched her mage land a stunning spell that immobilized an enemy.


    Mize turned to him with a soft crips laugh, her eyes twinkling. "Oh? Well, I have a great teacher. Thank you"


    That laugh. It sent a strange warmth flooding through him. He smiled, genuinely this time.


    In the game, Derek¡¯s knight dived into a skirmish near the bottom lane where Mize¡¯s princess character was cornered by two enemy champions.


    Without hesitation, Derek charged forward.


    "Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got you!" he yelled, his knight crashing through the bushes, knocking the enemies back with his lance.


    Mize¡¯s mage cast a barrier around herself just as Derek¡¯s knight blocked a powerful spell aimed at her.


    Another teammate spoke up in voice chat. "Yo, Derek¡ªwho¡¯s the new girl? She¡¯s killing it!"


    Derek tried to keep it a cool, despite the tinge of red on his cheeks "A friend... she¡¯s just learning."


    The match continued, with Mize throwing out occasional compliments, and Derek, in turn, found himself explaining more than necessary just to keep the conversation going.


    She laughed at his jokes, listened intently to his tips, and, at one point, leaned over to give him a teasing nudge with her elbow.


    Derek could barely concentrate on the game.


    Toward the end, the two of them had won their lane and were closing in on the enemy¡¯s base.


    The final team fight broke out, and Derek¡¯s knight leaped in front of Mize¡¯s mage to tank all the damage, allowing her to cast a devastating ultimate spell that wiped out most of the opposing team.


    "Nice work!" Derek exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.


    "All thanks to you," Mize responded with a smile, her voice smooth and sweet as silk.


    His teammates couldn¡¯t help but notice the dynamic. "Yo, Derek¡¯s got a princess!" one of them teased over the mic, causing the rest of the team to burst into laughter.


    "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Derek replied.


    As the game ended, Mize stretched his arms languidly and slid off the headset. He had enjoyed himself more than expected, but he¡¯d gotten what he came for attention and, more importantly, points.


    Now, it was time to move on.


    ''Test two completed, cute and approachable personality seems to suit me too''


    "Well, that was fun," Mize said, his voice light and casual.


    "Y-yeah! You were amazing," Derek stammered, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the mouse.


    He¡¯d been watching Mize closely the entire game, caught in a strange mix of admiration and disbelief.


    She was beautiful, out of his league, honestly.


    But here she was, talking to him, playing games with him.


    He couldn¡¯t let this chance slip through his fingers. Who would want to end it just like that? He wanted more!


    And perhaps, money and car can buy it for him?


    Mize began gathering his things, the movement signaling that he was about to leave.


    Derek¡¯s heart raced, he had to say something, ask for something more, or lose this moment forever.


    Taking a deep breath, he summoned his courage.


    "Uh, h-hey!" Derek blurted out, standing abruptly as Mize slung the strap of his small, stylish bag over his shoulder. "Before you go¡­ I mean, uh¡­ would it be okay if I¡­ you know, got your number?"


    Mize paused, turning slowly to face Derek.


    ''Ohhh? Should I?'' It was just a short hesitation.


    "My number?" Mize echoed, feigning hesitation.


    His ruby-red eyes widened just enough to appear innocent, his lips parting slightly as if he were considering the offer. "I suppose... sure, why not?"


    Derek nearly exploded with joy. His hand shook as he fumbled to open his phone, and Mize, with a graceful flick of his wrist, recited the number smoothly.


    As Derek typed it in, it felt like he was etching a miracle into his contacts list.


    A dream come true, he thought.


    "Thank you! I¡ªI¡¯ll text you later if that¡¯s cool?" Derek¡¯s face was flushed.


    Mize nodded, offering a soft smile. "Sure, I¡¯ll look out for it."


    Just as Mize turned to leave, Derek¡¯s voice caught him again.


    His words were hurried, and awkward, but there was something urgent in his tone. "Uh, wait¡ªbefore you go¡­ are you, um¡­ single?"


    The question hung in the air for a moment. Mize raised an eyebrow, letting a small laugh escape. "Single? Well¡­" He tilted his head, savoring Derek¡¯s anticipation. "Yes, I am."

 Chapter 7: to the store

    The pace is slow, just bear with it. And the update schedule depends on my free time, I am a student still...


    <hr>


    The effect was instant, Derek¡¯s face lit up like a kid who¡¯d just found the winning ticket in a candy bar.


    She was single!


    He could hardly keep himself from grinning ear to ear.


    Though he hurriedly tried to keep his composure, coughing away his embarrassment...


    But still, he couldn''t help himself...


    "Wow! That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s great!" Derek blurted out, his voice barely able to contain the excitement.


    Mize smiled at him, one eyebrow raised. "Yeah, guess it is."


    And with that, he headed out the door, job done for now.


    The experiment was deemed to be a successful one for tonight, Mize had gotten the results that he wanted, and to tell the truth... ''It is rather exciting... I never thought a beautiful girl could have this much pull just based on appearance'' Mize hummed silently within, making his way toward the entrance.


    ''I suppose the cute and naive personality suits my appearance best compared to the other''


    Moments before he stepped out, he sent a casual glance towards the neon sign at the top of the entrance''s door.


    ''It''s like playing a game, the more beautiful or attractive a person is, the easier the game difficulty will get'' He shook his head with a wry smile, thinking back to those days in the past. ''it''s quite addictive... '' taking a deep breath.


    He then walked out... ''Let''s hope that I won''t fall into this bliss too easily... a corrupted goddess huh?''


    The night air was cool, a soft breeze weaving through the streets as Mize strolled out of the caf¨¦, heels clicking against the pavement.


    He checked his phone, looking over the time that had just reached 9:00 pm, ''There''s still so much time left'' he thought inwardly, closing the phone yet again as he made his way towards the busier part of the town.


    ''I am hungry, better find a convenience store and eat noodles there''


    But as he turned the corner, a breathless voice called out behind him.


    "M-Miss! Wait!"


    He turned just in time to see Derek practically sprinting toward him, chest heaving like he¡¯d just run a mile.


    The clothes were soaked, and the wet patches under his armpit were quite evident.


    Mize frowned for a split second but then hurriedly regained his normal expression the next moment.


    ¡°You¡­ do you have any transportation?¡± Derek asked, still gasping for air, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.


    "Transportation?" Mize echoed, feigning innocence. "I was just going walk, my house is close by after all.."


    Derek¡¯s eyes lit up, practically shouting with excitement. "No! I mean, you shouldn¡¯t have to walk. It¡¯s late and¡­ let me give you a ride. No trouble at all!"


    ¡°Oh?¡± Mize cocked an eyebrow, doubtful at first, but nodded. "If you insist."


    Derek¡¯s face beamed as he ran off to get his car.


    Mize crossed his arms, waiting, figuring he¡¯d see a beat-up sedan or something low-key.


    But when Derek pulled up a few minutes later, Mize¡¯s eyes widened but only for a split momeny.


    It was a sleek, high-end sedan, the kind with polished rims and tinted windows.


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    Not exactly what he¡¯d pictured for caf¨¦ boy.


    Derek jumped out, still slightly nervous, but trying to look confident as he held the door open for her. "Hop in. I¡¯ll take you wherever you need to go."


    ''This is a surprise'' Mize muttered within, his eyes glancing over the car for a brief moment.


    But then, he shook inwardly... ''It''s just a mortal mean, my goal is those awakened men. But... '' His eyes hovered over the face that was filled with expectation and anticipation for a moment, ''Playing around for a little bit won''t hurt''


    Sliding into the plush leather seat, Mize allowed himself a small smile. "Nice car," he commented, looking around casually.


    Derek blushed a little. "Thanks. I, uh¡­ work in trading. It¡¯s been good to me."


    "Trading?" Mize asked, his voice a low hum as he observed the interior design of the car.


    "Yes, it''s kinda complicated... but it''s a stock market thing" Derek tried to explain, one hand over the steering wheel with the other hand making gestures on the topic.


    Though Mize seemed to be uninterested so he shut his mouth and began to drive.


    The car moved smoothly onto the street, and Derek¡¯s grip on the steering wheel was a little too tight, knuckles white as he sneaked glances at Mize.


    She looked out the window, hair framing her face perfectly in the glow of streetlights.


    He was mesmerized and couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she was wildly out of his league.


    Silence hung in the car until Derek blurted out, ¡°Uh, do you want to go to the mall? I mean, just to hang out, or¡­ you know, whatever. I¡¯ll pay for everything.¡±


    Mize¡¯s lips curled, almost like a smile. "You don¡¯t have to," she murmured, voice soft.


    She adjusted her seatbelt, pulling it snug across her waist, highlighting the curve that had never been there before.


    Mize noticed this but still kept a straight face nonetheless.


    Derek¡¯s heart kicked up a notch, catching a glimpse of the movement just now. "No, really, it¡¯s nothing. I¡¯d love to. You¡¯re still in high school, right?¡±


    ''If you know, you should be running already Sir'' Mize complained though on the outside.


    Her eyes flickered, catching his gaze for a moment before returning to her hands.


    Her fingers twisted together, and her hair spilled over, hiding her face.


    ¡°Well¡­ yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.


    Derek felt something rise in him. He didn¡¯t know why she seemed so hesitant, but he wanted to try his best tonight.


    After all, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be this close to a real beauty.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled,¡± he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. ¡°Let¡¯s go. I¡¯ll cover it all, no strings attached.¡±


    As for the legal age of consent issue, it is 16 nowadays for people to date so as not to be looked at weirdly. Mize was still used to the old world laws, 18 there.


    She hesitated, glancing at him briefly with an unreadable expression, but then she gave a small nod.


    ''Well... It''s not my money anyway. Might as well buy some brush, and toiletries along the way''


    Derek exhaled, relief flooding him.


    As they drove on, neon lights flickered across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek and jaw.


    She was beautiful, almost unreal, like a dream.


    It didn''t take long as soon enough, they parked their car before a community supermarket that was the closest to the area.


    A supermarket that Mize was a frequent customer of, but then...


    He noticed that Derek was oddly quiet while looking over the entrance of the store with a strange gaze, a kind of gaze that seemed to be filled with... memories?


    Lost in thought, Derek hadn¡¯t noticed Mize stir beside him.


    Her voice, soft and unexpected, pulled him back to the present. ¡°You seem very fond of this place?"


    Derek blinked, startled. ¡°W-what? How do you know?¡± His cheeks flushed, an embarrassed laugh slipping from his lips.


    He hadn¡¯t realized she¡¯d been watching him.


    He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, the other hand still gripping the steering wheel like it was his lifeline.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been smiling the whole time,¡± she whispered, her voice so gentle it barely rose above the purring of the car engine.


    Derek froze.


    He hadn¡¯t realized. ¡°Ah¡­¡± The words caught in his throat.


    Was it that obvious? He glanced sideways at her, then quickly looked away, suddenly feeling too exposed in the small space of the car. ¡°It was that obvious?¡±


    Mize let out a soft laugh, her smile widening as she rested her hand on her lap. And she nodded, ¡°Mhmmm¡± Her voice was smooth.


    Derek cleared his throat, the heat rising from his chest up to his neck. ¡°Yeah, I guess this place means a lot more than I realize,¡± he muttered, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.


    He coughed to cover his awkwardness. ¡°I spent a lot of time here back in the day. The old owner... he helped me when I had nothing.¡±


    Mize turned in her seat, her gaze settling on the store''s darkened windows. ¡°Is that why you keep coming back?¡±


    He hesitated, then nodded. ¡°Yeah. Every time I come here, it¡¯s like I¡¯m visiting him, in a way. You know, paying my respects.¡± He laughed again, but this time it wasn¡¯t awkward, just a soft, wistful sound.


    ¡°It¡¯s silly, right? He¡¯s not even here anymore. But I feel like if I stop coming, I¡¯ll be forgetting what he did for me. And I can¡¯t forget.¡±


    Mize said nothing for a long moment, her eyes distant as if she were searching for something in the darkness outside.


    Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°It¡¯s not silly at all.¡±


    Derek blinked, surprised by the tenderness in her tone. She wasn¡¯t teasing him, nor was she pitying him.


    Derek smiled, not the awkward, flustered kind, but a genuine smile. He glanced at Mize, who returned his look.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, not sure if he was thanking her for listening.


    Mize nodded, her eyes gleaming under the soft glow of the streetlights. ¡°Anytime.¡±


    Derek¡¯s face felt hot as he fumbled to open the car door, his words stumbling out, ¡°T-then, let¡¯s go buy what you want.¡±

 Chapter 8: The end of Derek guy

    As he started to step out, Mize¡¯s soft, almost embarrassed voice stopped him.


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know how to open this door,¡± Mize said, his eyes darting away as if too ashamed to meet Derek¡¯s gaze.


    His long, dark hair fell forward, hiding his face like a shield. ''And I was acting so cool and chic too just now! I ruined it!'' Mize could only silently weep within...


    Derek paused, chuckling softly to himself as he turned to look at her. ¡°Oh, right. Let me get that for you,¡± he said.


    He quickly rounded the car, his hands fidgeting nervously as he approached her side.


    When he opened the door, his hand hovered there for a second, unsure if he should offer it to help her out.


    The gesture felt old-fashioned, but before he could second-guess himself, Mize looked up at him from behind that curtain of hair, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink.


    She hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached out and took his hand.


    Derek¡¯s breath caught. Her touch was light, almost delicate, and yet, something about it sent a jolt of electricity through him.


    As she stepped down from the car, her hand in his, he tried not to let his nervousness show.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± he cleared his throat, smiling sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.


    The two of them started toward the mall entrance, their hands still loosely held together, neither of them willing to let go but too shy to acknowledge it.


    For Mize, this was one hell of an experience...


    kill me


    Kill me


    Kill me


    [Host, stay calm. Weren''t you the one who was so confident that mortal men are easy?]


    ''Shut up'' Mize cursed directly.


    ''What am I doing here? Where am I? How did I get here?'' It was a bunch of questions, and he was unsure of how to answer this.


    But really, only he and he alone could answer these questions and no one else could.


    As they passed through the automatic sliding doors, Derek was the first to break the silence, though his voice came out more flustered than he¡¯d intended.


    ¡°S-so, um, what do you want to buy?¡± His eyes darted around, pretending to scan the aisles and store signs, though, in truth, he was just avoiding looking at her directly.


    Mize had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, the height difference between them almost laughable, him standing at 1.8 meters, and her barely reaching 1.5 meters.


    ''despite being a nerd, this guy sure is a tall one huh'' Mize curled his lips at the thought of this.


    She looked up, her chin lifted, and her hair fell to the side, revealing more of her face.


    Something was mesmerizing in the way her hair framed her, like a wave parting to reveal a delicate shore.


    ¡°Just some daily stuff¡­ a toothbrush, face wash, shampoo¡­ I guess,¡± she said softly, her voice trailing off, each word deliberately hesitant as if testing the air before she spoke.


    "Ah, right, that stuff,¡± Derek nodded, still scratching the back of his awkwardly while replying so,


    He could handle that. ¡°The aisle¡¯s this way,¡± he said, holding her hand just a little more firmly as he started leading them deeper into the store.


    He took larger strides at first, but quickly matched her pace, the two of them walking in quiet sync.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    There was a strange harmony in it, his larger steps, her smaller ones, their hands locked together like they¡¯d done this a hundred times before.


    But Mize had sworn he had never done this before, each second was like a whole new world to him, and also...


    ''This is quite addictive... '' Alas, the slowly degrading goddess...


    Every so often, Derek¡¯d glance down at her, catching glimpses of that soft blush still staining her cheeks, and it sent a flutter through his chest each time.


    As they turned down an aisle, the bright fluorescent lights overhead cast long shadows, and the rhythmic hum of the store¡¯s ambiance filled the air.


    ¡°Do you¡­ come here often?¡± Derek asked awkwardly, trying to break the silence.


    His voice sounded stupid in his ears, but he was desperate to keep the conversation going.


    Mize looked up at him, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles, the kind that barely reached the eyes but still felt genuine.


    ¡°Not really,¡± she said simply, her voice soft.


    He wasn¡¯t sure what to say next, so he just nodded, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand as they walked.


    They reached the personal care aisle, and Mize¡¯s eyes darted toward the shelves, her hand slipping from his as she moved to pick out the items she needed.


    Derek hovered beside her, watching as she carefully selected a toothbrush, a small bottle of face wash, and a shampoo that smelled faintly of lavender.


    As she dropped the items into the shopping basket, Derek couldn¡¯t help but smile.


    ¡°I¡¯ll pay,¡± he said again, his voice a little steadier now.


    She glanced up at him, and for a second, he thought she might argue, but instead, she just gave a small nod, her eyes softening.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered.


    ---


    The car hummed softly as it glided through the stillness of the night, the streets washed in dim orange light.


    Derek barely noticed the world outside, his mind was too wrapped in the silence that had settled between him and Mize.


    The tall apartment building loomed ahead, a modern tower with hundreds of rooms.


    The closer they got, the more his chest tightened, and by the time they pulled into the parking lot, he felt like the night was slipping away from him.


    He glanced sideways as Mize started gathering her things, methodically placing her belongings into her bag.


    She moved quickly, not wasting a single motion, but in Derek¡¯s eyes, each second dragged on.


    ''Is this the end?''


    He hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously on the leather of the steering wheel.


    The light tapping sound filled the car, but Mize didn¡¯t acknowledge it, didn¡¯t look up, just packed in that strange, stifling silence.


    Derek shifted, resting one hand on the gearshift, nudging it just enough that he felt the faint tension under his palm, but not enough to move the car.


    His other hand fidgeted with the armrest, where a few crumpled wrappers of emergency chocolates lay hidden.


    He glanced at Mize, opening his mouth to say something, anything, to stop her from leaving, but the words tangled up in his throat.


    Instead, he just sat there, trying to act like the confident guy he wasn¡¯t.


    Her delicate movements seemed entirely unconcerned with whatever awkwardness he was radiating.


    Mize was close to leaving, and Derek felt like he was losing something.


    He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that when she left the car, she¡¯d be gone from his life for good.


    He coughed to fill the quiet, his eyes flicking toward her small, frail frame.


    She seemed so fragile, bent over her bag, the light casting long shadows over her hands as she worked.


    ¡°M-Miss?¡± he stammered, his voice cracking slightly.


    Mize paused, blinking as if surprised to hear him speak. ¡°Yeah?¡± she answered, her tone calm as she placed a small bag on her lap.


    She still had more things to pack, but for a moment, she turned her full attention to him, though her expression remained unreadable.


    Derek swallowed, his fingers tightening around the gearshift. His mind raced, trying to form words that didn¡¯t sound pathetic.


    ¡°I... I was just wondering if, uh, you¡¯re okay walking to your room... alone, I mean.¡±


    Mize¡¯s ruby eyes flickered downwards for a moment, her long dark hair spilling over her shoulder like a cascade of ink in the dim light.


    The shadows carved around her eyes made them glisten, almost like she was about to cry.


    Derek¡¯s heart skipped a beat.


    It wasn¡¯t that she was crying, but the way she looked at him reminded him of something small and vulnerable, like a kitten caught in the rain.


    He laughed nervously, waving his hand like a fool. ¡°I-I didn¡¯t mean anything weird, hah... I¡¯m just, you know, worried. Want to make sure you¡¯re safe.¡±


    Mize nodded, her gaze dropping back to her bag.


    She clutched the string closer to her chest, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°I-it¡¯s fine... I can walk alone.¡±


    Derek¡¯s heart sank a little. He wasn¡¯t sure what he had expected, but the quiet rejection still stung.


    He glanced away, trying to hide the disappointment creeping into his expression.


    ¡°Right, yeah... of course,¡± he muttered under his breath.


    She opened the door, stepping out into the cool night air. ¡°Goodnight then,¡± she said softly.


    He watched her go, her slender form disappearing into the entrance of the apartment building.


    For a second, he sat there, the car suddenly feeling a little too big and a little too empty.


    As the door closed behind her, Derek let out a sigh, his fingers loosening their grip on the steering wheel.


    He leaned back into the seat, staring at the empty passenger side where she had been just moments before.


    He glanced at his phone, the faint glow of the number was still on the screen. A small smile crept onto his face.


    <hr>


    Slow pacing, slow update, but a lot in stock...


    Oh btw, this Derek guy is just an episode, don''t dwell on him too much... or else I will kill him...


    ...


    jk...


    Maybe? Idk... let''s see.

 Chapter 9: It was a win win, yeah... A win win

    Mize heaved a deep breath, tossing his bag onto the soft mattress with a thud.


    His body followed right after, collapsing onto the bed as the springs beneath him creaked and coiled.


    He bounced slightly, the plush surface catching him like a warm embrace.


    His long black hair, sleek and dark like ink, fanned out beneath him, spilling over the edges of the bed.


    His eyes, those pitiful, watery eyes, gazed up at the ceiling, wide and shimmering as if they were always on the verge of tears.


    It wasn¡¯t that he was about to cry, of course. It was just how his eyes looked, large, glistening, designed to stir something in the people who stared into them.


    A natural gift that could evoke pity, protectiveness¡­ or even darker desires.


    It was an appearance fine-tuned for seduction, and just now, Mize had put it to good use.


    A small smile crept onto his lips, subtle, barely visible.


    But as he replayed the evening events in his mind, the smile grew wider, stretching across his face until it became a full-blown grin.


    His soft laugh broke the silence, a high, almost girlish sound that echoed in the small room.


    Mize kicked the air excitedly, his legs flailing as he rolled onto his back, unable to contain his glee any longer.


    His eyes crinkled into crescents, shimmering with satisfaction.


    The laughter kept coming... light, airy, and filled with triumph.


    He¡¯d done it.


    Tonight wasn¡¯t just any night. No, this was his first time pulling off something like this.


    Mize had always been confident in his abilities, but it had never occurred to him that he would be able to perform such an act tonight.


    From the lift to the cafe and finally to the mall, everything seemed to be so surreal or even unreal.


    Derek was one hell of a person, more like a surprise ticking bomb for Mize''s judgment.


    He tried his best to keep everything under his control, ''But... sometimes my acting would falter, and I was acting so cool too, and then I ruined it'' Mize rolled all over the bed while thinking of this, his cheeks red.


    The thought made Mize¡¯s smile widen again as he kicked his legs into the air once more.


    And it wasn¡¯t just about playing Derek for the fool, either.


    Mize had gotten exactly what he wanted or unexpectedly craved for, that is to be paid for at the mall.


    He had filled his cart in the store with branded items, essentials that he would never have been able to afford on his own.


    He had picked up everything he needed without even a second thought, his fingers grazing each item, and instantly snatched them on the spot into the shopping cart.


    Hundreds of dollars worth of goods, all neatly packed into plastic bags.


    Mize¡¯s heart raced just thinking about it.


    He had caught a glimpse of the total when they were at the register, watching the cashier scan each item.


    Four hundred and twenty-three dollars. His eyes had widened slightly at the sight of the final number, but Derek?


    Derek had simply swiped his black-and-gold card without batting an eye.


    The way the card had slipped effortlessly through the machine, the way the transaction went through without a pause.


    It had left Mize almost breathless. ''That is a lot of money, he just spent a month''s worth of allowance that I am used to'' Mize wailed internally, if only I could have that much money for myself''


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Even now, lying on his bed, he could still hear the sound of that card swiping.


    ''But then, in the future money wouldn''t matter much to me. My goal is bigger than that! Be an awakener, have someone to be my sugardaddy to protect me and then become stronger through someone''s else money!''


    He laughed again, softer this time, as he rolled over, clutching a long pillow to his chest.


    His fingers dug into the fabric as he hugged it tightly, his mind spinning with possibilities.


    Derek had money. Real money. The kind of money that could change things for Mize if he played his cards right.


    But it wasn''t for a long-term prospect as he too had to target other men in the future.


    And the best part? Derek was interested. There had been no mistaking that look in his eyes, the hesitant, hopeful way he had asked for friendship.


    It was almost too easy, "Despite being embarrassed a couple of times, my acting breaking up and all... ultimately the result is satisfactory"


    [It won''t be that easy when the host met those figures in the future]


    "Yeah yeah, I know who you are referring to, but let me have my victory celebration tonight, can''t I?"


    [Understood host]


    ¡°I can play with him a little more" Mize whispered to himself, his voice barely audible, as if speaking the words out loud might solidify something unspoken.


    His smile deepened, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips.


    The excitement bubbled inside him, a giddiness that made him squirm against the sheets.


    He rolled onto his side, eyes gleaming.


    But then, as if to temper the thrill, he paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m being a jerk or anything¡± he muttered, trying to convince himself.


    His fingers trailed absently along the pillow, drawing invisible patterns. ¡°Right, I will just use him a little, and it''s not like I will ask too much from him. And in return, I will give him the attention that he has been craving¡±


    His voice dropped to a near whisper, but the conviction was there. This wasn¡¯t just manipulation for the sake of it, this was a mutually beneficial arrangement, wasn¡¯t it?


    Derek would get something from this too, attention.


    The way Mize saw it, he was providing companionship, attention, and maybe even a little affection if it came to that.


    In return, Derek would offer his wealth and his resources.


    It was a win-win situation. And it''s just for a short bit while the he was still bored right now.


    Mize cackled softly, a grin spreading across his face again as he buried his face into the pillow, hugging it tighter. ¡°Yeah¡­ a win-win,¡± he repeated, his voice muffled by the soft fabric.


    Mize lay sprawled on the bed, grinning ear to ear, his legs kicking playfully as if he were some giddy kid who¡¯d just won a prize.


    His hair fanned out around him, his thoughts bouncing between his success tonight and the satisfying weight of it.


    Because, beneath all the schemes and lies, Mize was still, in essence, a child.


    He craved attention, validation, and yes, even a bit of envy from those around him.


    Rolling over, his laughter broke the silence of the room.


    He kicked his legs higher, enjoying the rare feeling of control, control over his situation, his image, and especially over Derek, the man who had walked so easily into his web.


    But then, a familiar ding echoed from his phone.


    The notification sounds from Talktie, the government-supervised app that connects the entire world.


    Mize lazily reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his phone, unlocking it with a quick swipe.


    At the top of his chats, a message flashed on the screen. A familiar profile picture, paired with a simple text: ¡°Hi, it¡¯s me, Derek.¡±


    Mize¡¯s grin deepened.


    How quick, this guy probably didn''t take a bath yet just to chat with me. He typed out a quick response, sending back an emoji with a wide, innocent smile, one that mirrored the innocent expression he so often wore.


    Derek, on the other hand, had not expected such a quick reply.


    He was prepared to be ignored, or at the very least left on read for a while.


    His heart raced a little as he stared at the screen, surprised by the immediate response.


    A nervous excitement bubbled up in him, and his thumbs fumbled as he typed.


    "W-well... are you free tomorrow?" Derek sent, feeling the thrill of taking a bold step forward.


    He knew Mize had school, but he couldn¡¯t help himself. It was like tossing a hook into the water, hoping the fish would bite anyway.


    Mize raised an eyebrow as he read the message, instantly recognizing Derek¡¯s clumsy attempt to make more time for them.


    It was almost amusing, the way he was trying so hard to push things along.


    But while Derek was trying to orchestrate his plans, Mize wasn¡¯t stupid enough to fall into any traps that didn¡¯t benefit him.


    Well, not usually. Mize may have been clever in some ways, but there were gaps in his knowledge, he wasn¡¯t always as sharp as he liked to think he was.


    "No," he typed back, still smiling to himself, "I have school tomorrow, and on Wednesday, I¡¯ll have to do the Awakening Ceremony."


    He paused before hitting send, knowing the mention of the ceremony would shift the conversation.


    It always did.


    Derek¡¯s next message came through quickly, exactly as Mize had anticipated.


    "Ah, yes. The Awakening Ceremony." The message was short, but the tone was clear.


    Derek knew all too well what Mize was facing.


    He hesitated for a moment, memories of his ceremony resurfacing.


    The weight of that day, the hope, the crushing disappointment, it all came back in a wave.


    He remembered vividly the hope that the ceremony inspired in young students, the promise of becoming something more than just ordinary.


    Derek¡¯s fingers hovered over the keyboard, carefully crafting his next message.


    He didn¡¯t want to sound bitter or pessimistic, but he also knew the odds.


    Most people didn¡¯t awaken. Most people didn¡¯t become anything more than what they already were.


    Well, at least this only applied to commoner, people like them.


    "You must be hoping to become an Awakener too, no?" Derek finally typed, his tone neutral but with a hint of caution.


    He didn¡¯t want to crush the young girl''s dreams, but he knew reality could be harsh.

 Chapter 10: night talk

    Mize, reading the message, smiled softly to himself.


    "He''s acting like I am unaware of the harsh reality of the upcoming awakening ceremony, how cute... "


    However, even from the perspective of other people... such a kind and innocent-looking girl perhaps wouldn''t have much deeper thoughts about this issue.


    Like a naive child that is...


    But...


    He knew the odds as well as anyone. In fact, he knew the fact and the cold reality of the ceremony better than any of his peers at the same age.


    The Awakening Ceremony was an enormous gamble since it involved the future of a person''s life.


    Even with his lineage, even with two awakened parents, there was no guarantee that the same fate awaited him.


    "Mhmm," he responded, his tone light as if the weight of the ceremony hadn¡¯t fully hit him. "I¡¯m hoping to become one. I¡¯ll follow the same path that my mother once took"


    The mention of his mother was deliberate. He knew that would tug at Derek¡¯s curiosity, maybe even evoke sympathy.


    And, to Mize¡¯s satisfaction, it worked. It worked too well, that he began to doubt a little, the authenticity of everything, but this tiny thought was kept at the back of his mind.


    "I see... then you should be prepared thoroughly and mentally" Derek¡¯s question came, his voice sounding thoughtful, perhaps even a little nostalgia in Mize''s head.


    "Yup, I will. I will definitely succeed" Mize replied, his voice crisp and innocent through the text.


    He made sure to sound confident, unbothered by the uncertainty of the ceremony.


    But deep down, Mize knew the reality all too well. The chances of awakening were slim for most, even for someone with an impressive lineage like his.


    All the rumors, all the ancient myths about bloodlines and genetics, they meant nothing when it came down to the ceremony.


    In the end, it was about luck.


    And Mize knew that his luck, in most things, had been precarious at best.


    Still, that didn¡¯t mean he wouldn¡¯t play along with whatever was to come.


    Derek stared at his phone, his fingers trembling as they hovered over the screen.


    The words ¡°I am sure you will be a great sorcerer one day!¡± stared back at him, hesitating whether these were the right thing to say at this time.


    ''Several days before the time would come, a time where hundreds of millions of people''s dreams and hopes would be crushed into ashes''


    ''And I wouldn''t want her dream to be crushed too''


    He was bad at this, terrible. Comforting someone, especially about something as monumental as the Awakening Ceremony, wasn¡¯t his strong suit.


    And yet, he wanted to believe the words he typed. He wanted to believe that Mize, this fragile-looking girl with a quiet smile, would defy the odds.


    Maybe... it was just a tiny hope of seed that he was praying for. ''Perhaps, she might have a chance''


    But the truth lingered in the back of his mind, heavy and unshakable.


    The odds of awakening were so slim, so cruelly stacked against most people, that the thought of Mize walking away disappointed, crushed even, twisted something deep in his chest.


    Before he could overthink it anymore, Mize responded.


    "I am sure I will! I¡¯ll be one of the greatest awakener in this world!" She punctuated her message with an emoji, bright, hopeful, and everything Derek couldn¡¯t be right now.


    A soft smile curled at the corner of his lips as he read the message.


    Childish?


    Innocent?


    Naive?


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    But wasn¡¯t that what made it so pure?


    And Derek, despite all his cynicism, found himself wishing for that kind of certainty again.


    Yet, there was a growing pit in his stomach.


    He didn¡¯t want to see Mize''s bright, ruby-like eyes fill with disappointment when reality came crashing down.


    The thought of her crying, of her soft voice cracking under the weight of failure, made him feel... bad.


    And yet, he barely met her today, but it was as if, he had known her for years.


    He had seen many of his peers cry, and break into pieces even when it was on that eventful day.


    Some were even in absolute utter shock, then till this day, they could never recover. Imagine training your life, under the horrible expectation of your parents to become the pillar of light in your family lineage.


    To escape from the chain of being a mortal into something extrodianary, but in the end... it failed.


    Dissapointment


    What should I do? he thought, his hand absentmindedly running through his messy hair.


    "It''s so hopeless at times, that I couldn''t stop something from happening despite knowing it would"


    He hated how powerless he felt. He knew the truth, only one in a hundred would awaken.


    Those odds haunted the common people, especially now that Mize had placed so much hope in something so uncertain.


    Derek¡¯s mind raced, trying to find a way to help her. And then it hit him, like a flash of memory resurfacing from some distant, almost forgotten corner of his mind.


    The Luck Potion.


    He had heard about it before, seen it even, at the Awakener auction house.


    A rare concoction that was rumored to increase someone¡¯s chances of awakening.


    It was insanely expensive, of course, something only the wealthiest could afford.


    After all, this luck potion involves in the idea of tampering with luck and fate, naturally it would be expensive.


    But Derek had connections. He could make it happen.


    His hand froze mid-motion, his fingers tangled in his hair, as the idea solidified in his mind.


    He glanced at his phone on the seat beside him, ''Old friend, please help me this one time''


    Meanwhile, Mize, unaware of the storm of thoughts swirling in Derek¡¯s head, continued with his night as if nothing were out of the ordinary.


    He moved around the kitchen in his small apartment, preparing his usual meal, noodles.


    A simple dish, but one that he loved more than anything. In this world, and even the version of it that existed before the awakening, noodles were his constant, his comfort.


    And his favourite flavor would be BBQ spicy chicken, the one that would make his stomach ache in the next morning, churn and twist...


    As he boiled water and stirred the noodles, he thought about Derek¡¯s message, his innocent excitement.


    "He''s the type that would try his best to impress me... " Mize began, his eyes fixed on the boiling water on the stove, absent minded a little.


    "It''s like those romance drama, where the guy is obsessed with the girl, willing to do anything at the cost of everything"


    Mize had been playing this game long enough to know that Derek was the kind of person who desperately wanted to fix things, to protect people like Mize from the inevitable harshness of reality.


    He smiled faintly, stirring the noodles in the pot. If only Derek knew just how aware Mize was of the world¡¯s cruelty.


    He wasn¡¯t some naive little girl waiting for a miracle.


    But Derek didn¡¯t need to know that.


    No one need to know this.


    As the noodles cooked, Mize leaned against the counter, tapping his foot lightly on the tiled floor.


    The steam from the pot curled into the air, soft and comforting, much like the quiet simplicity of his routine.


    He caught his reflection in the kitchen window, the dim light casting a soft glow over his pale skin and delicate features.


    His black hair fell like dark silk around his face, framing his doll-like appearance. People always said he looked fragile, like porcelain, something to be protected, cherished, or even broken.


    Mize smiled softly at his reflection.


    He didn¡¯t mind the comparisons. After all, it worked to his advantage. Let people think what they want.


    Let Derek think he was just some delicate flower in need of saving. It was easier that way.


    As the noodles finished cooking, he drained them, his movements smooth.


    Derek lay on his bed, phone pressed to his ear, still caught up in the conversation that had already drifted past him.


    His words flowed easily now, stories and jokes tumbling out, each one an attempt to keep Mize engaged.


    He''d learned so much tonight, bits and pieces of her family, the struggles she''d faced, and even small details about her day-to-day life.


    And while Mize never came across as seeking pity, Derek felt that familiar tug in his chest, a need to protect.


    Mize, though Mize was a master of subtlety. She had woven a tapestry of vulnerability so well that Derek didn¡¯t even realize how expertly he¡¯d been drawn into it.


    Every word she shared seemed delicate, every pause filled with just enough emotion to make Derek think he was being let in on something deeply personal.


    It was all an illusion, of course, a carefully crafted act that Mize had honed to perfection.


    He played the role of the fragile flower, and Derek, unknowingly, played the role of the knight in shining armor.


    ¡°...and then,¡± Derek chuckled, finishing his latest story, ¡°I ended up spilling coffee all over the conference table. Can you imagine? The first day at work, and I¡¯ve already made a mess.¡±


    Silence greeted him on the other side.


    ¡°Mize?¡± he called softly. ¡°You still there?¡±


    Nothing but the faint sound of breathing. It was so light, so steady, that it took Derek a second to register what had happened.


    A soft smile spread across his face as he listened. Mize had fallen asleep.


    He could hear the gentle rhythm of her breaths, slow and even, each one a whisper in the quiet of his room.


    It was almost endearing, how easily she had drifted off in the middle of their conversation.


    Vulnerable, like a child, he thought. His heart warmed at the thought.


    ¡°She¡¯s so vulnerable,¡± he whispered to himself, a strange kind of contentment filling him.


    He wasn¡¯t entirely sure why, but knowing that she had fallen asleep while they were talking made him feel... needed.


    Trusted, even.


    He lay there for a while longer, just listening.


    Eventually, Derek gently placed his phone down, careful not to end the call too abruptly, as if hanging up would disturb her sleep.


    He lay back, staring at the ceiling with a smile that wouldn''t fade.


    And as he lay his back on the bed, his eyes staring towards the ceiling... "I will help you, don''t worry"

 Chapter 11: Mondays morning

    The first morning light crept in like a quiet visitor, slipping through the gap in the curtains and spilling soft golden rays across the room.


    It touched everything gently, the corner of the bed, the scattered bags on the floor, and eventually, Mize¡¯s sleeping face.


    The warmth from the sun was subtle at first, a soft invitation to wake, but soon it grew persistent, coaxing him out of the deep sleep he had drifted into during the night.


    Outside, the city had already begun its daily hum.


    The faint sound of cars moving on the street below was a distant backdrop, mixing with the occasional honk of a horn, muffled conversations of early risers, and the low rumble of buses making their rounds.


    Life was moving on, like it always did, while Mize lay curled up in the quiet sanctuary of his apartment.


    His long lashes fluttered for a moment, reacting to the warmth of the sunlight that now rested on his cheek.


    He shifted under the blanket, his hair spread like ink against the pillow, still half-lost in the fantasy.


    His body felt heavy, almost reluctant to move, as if the weight of dreams still clung to him, pulling him back into that comforting haze.


    But the sunlight wasn¡¯t having it.


    Mize scrunched his face a little, turning his head to escape the brightness, but it was no use.


    The morning was calling, and the day had already begun without him.


    He groaned softly, a mix of frustration and sleepy resignation, before finally letting his eyes crack open.


    Just a sliver at first, peeking out through the blur of sleep to make sense of the world around him.


    The room was calm, bathed in that early morning glow. The air felt cool and fresh, with a faint hint of the night still lingering as the city¡¯s warmth slowly began to seep in.


    Mize let out a long, slow breath, his body stretching beneath the sheets.


    His arms reached above his head, and his legs straightened, toes pointing outward as he groaned again, this time with the sweet relief of a good stretch.


    The muscles in his back loosened, and the sleepiness that had weighed him down started to lift.


    His phone buzzed softly from the bedside table, messages and messages coming in... but Mize like always wasn''t one to reply.


    He didn¡¯t check it right away, though. Instead, Mize sat up slowly, letting the blanket fall away as he ran a hand through his tousled black hair, pushing it out of his face.


    He blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he let out a soft yawn.


    His mind was still fuzzy, lingering in the in-between space where the remnants of dreams mixed with the reality of the day ahead.


    He glanced toward the window, where the sunlight filtered in, dappling the room with soft shadows.


    The city outside was already alive, but inside, everything still felt quiet, like the day hadn¡¯t quite reached him yet.


    Mize pulled himself out of bed, his bare feet touching the cool floor, and he padded softly toward the kitchen.


    Mize sat there, staring at his phone in disbelief, the screen glowing faintly in the soft morning light.


    The message from Derek and the bank notification confirming the transfer made his breath hitch for a second.


    A thousand dollars, just like that.


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    He blinked, then let out a disbelieving laugh, his body slumping back against the chair.


    His loose, oversized clothes slipped further down his shoulder, exposing the pale, flawless skin underneath.


    Mize caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room, his reflection capturing the mix of bewilderment and amusement on his face.


    His ruby-like eyes glistened in the light, sharp and beautiful, but cold as ice.


    "He''s for real... he sent it," he murmured to himself, running a hand through his long black hair.


    A soft smile curved on his lips.


    Sipping from the glass of water, he savored the moment.


    He put the glass down and picked up his phone again, scrolling through the messages he had sent earlier.


    A whole string of protests, polite refusals, and exaggerated confusion about how to return the money, though it was all an act of pretense.


    To make the picture of his personality in Derek''s eyes more perfect... or not too perfect.


    "Alas, what a perfect performance, no?" he mused, tapping the screen lightly, savoring the moment of his brilliance.


    He could almost see Derek¡¯s face on the other end of the phone, probably feeling all warm and fuzzy for helping someone so "innocent." The thought made him chuckle.


    It was all a game, "Well a short one at that"


    Mize stood up, his bare feet making soft sounds against the wooden floor as he paced around the room, still shaking his head in disbelief.


    His long hair swayed behind him like a dark shadow, and his oversized shirt clung loosely to his thin frame.


    He walked over to the window, pulled the curtain aside, and let the sunlight pour into the room.


    The morning outside was bright, the city already bustling with life, but Mize wasn¡¯t focused on that.


    "Ding."


    Another message from Derek. Mize raised an eyebrow, tapping the screen again.


    ¡°Make sure to go to school, and here¡¯s another $1000.¡±


    "Huh?" Mize''s eyes widened again. "Another thousand?"


    The second bank notification buzzed in almost instantly after the message.


    He couldn¡¯t help but laugh, a high-pitched sound of disbelief and amusement escaping his lips.


    ¡°Is this for real?¡± he muttered, shaking his head as he slumped back onto the bed.


    His long sleeves slid further down, but he didn¡¯t bother fixing them this time.


    Leaning back, he let out a long sigh, staring up at the ceiling.


    "He¡¯s falling for this," he said, almost to himself. "Hook, line, and sinker."


    "Well, whatever it might be the case, I will have to prepare to go to school before the bus departs without me" Mize stood up, his eyes fixed on the table watch arrow for a moment.


    It was exactly at 10 am, an hour before 11 when the bus would depart at that time.


    Then the class would start at 12.


    The schooling time system for the human race had been synchronized into one, with more ample time in the morning for the kids to prepare themselves, and the school time, no matter what must end before 7 at night.


    A total of 6 days of school, except Sunday. It was to honor those warriors and legends of important human figures that had served the human race, more or so a day for remembrance.


    Knowing that he had over one hour of preparation, Mize then began to select the fit for the school day.


    He is in his senior year, and despite so many years studying in this school, barely a few know him well.


    He was the kid at the back of the class that is as unpopular as he was invisible.


    Not much was known about him, having few acquaintances, and the rest were just a mystery.


    And this loophole of many people not knowing much about him.


    Mize planned to take advantage of it.


    "System, sum up all the points that I gained last night"


    [1200 points in total, host]


    "I see... that''s quite a lot"


    [Yes host, half of these points came from the target''s emotional fluctuation, and the other hand was due to the physical contact that the host and the target had done]


    To this, Mize''s reaction wasn''t much as he simply kept on searching for a proper set of clothes.


    "Just holding hands gave me that many points, huh?" Mize muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the cluttered closet, rifling through piles of clothes.


    His fingers paused briefly, grazing over the fabric, as his mind replayed the scene from last night.


    A smirk curled at the corner of his lips.


    "It¡¯s like you''re practically suggesting I should just commit the forbidden act next," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned deeper into the closet.


    The system¡¯s voice chimed in, its response monotone and clinical.


    [Host, this system is simply detailing the source of each point you gained from your actions.]


    "Yeah, sure, sure¡­" Mize straightened up, finally pulling out the set of clothes he had in mind.


    The black jeans were almost cargo-like, rugged, and functional, while the oversized white jersey had a sleek black flower logo on the back.


    Stylish, and simple, but just enough to catch attention without looking like he tried too hard.


    He glanced at himself in the mirror, sizing up his small frame. His long black hair, now reaching his back, gave him that delicate look that had always worked to his advantage.


    Pulling the shirt over his head, he smiled to himself, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes.


    "Let¡¯s see how far I can push this game."


    Mize stood in front of the tall mirror, carefully tying his long black hair into a ponytail.


    His ruby-like eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he admired his reflection.


    "There..." he whispered, observing the final look.


    He patted his cheeks, making a few playful pouts and expressions, adjusting his features.


    His appearance, even to his critical eye, was mesmerizing.


    Despite being male, he carried a beauty that many would envy. "A pity... that I can¡¯t do anything about my height yet" he sighed, tugging at his oversized shirt, which hid the slight creases at his waistline.

 Chapter 12: going to school.

    The pacing is slow...


    <hr>


    The outfit... black cargo-style jeans and an oversized white jersey, highlighted his delicate frame and amplified his cuteness.


    It was like a child wearing loose clothes, but in a way, this appearance made him appear to be more... alluring than normal.


    He was still deciding or even, hesitating whether to let the hair tied up at the back or let it fall naturally and over time...


    The purpose defeated his will, as he untidied his hair and let it fall at the back like a long black curtain.


    He smirked at the thought of showing up at school like this, well... it was mostly just thoughts but in reality, he might just act naturally.


    Attracting attention and gazes was the main goal, but if doing so could lead him to unnecessary trouble then the cons defeats the purpose.


    "I wonder whether there would be anyone of those second rate villain rich kids would be falling for me or not" His lips curled into a mischievous grin, a spark of deviousness dancing in his eyes.


    He was mainly mentioning those bully-rich second-generation boys at the school, the ones that he would often avoid in the past, fearing that he might be bullied too like the rest.


    Mize appearance before this wasn''t one where it could induce or even attract bullies, but due to his weak appearance, he was called a sissy or even worst, people mistook him for a girl and he would constantly get harassed.


    "Nah, I should just stay lowkey all the time, only strike for those valuable targets only " he mused.


    For now, he won''t just go around and flirt with random boys given that they would provide him with little benefits, he isn''t that hungry or even dumb to that point.


    His goal would be those men with a somewhat similar protagonist halo, or even a powerful background that could provide him with protection and whatever he wished for.


    ''You know... like a princess being doted on by all the big bosses in the world. That sounds fun'' Mize thoughts churned inwardly, his hand brushing against the back of his hair, pushing it sideways to his ears.


    ''But... I wonder what it would feel like if one of these men... were to force me into doing those things?'' Well... it was just a thought, a sudden one at that as his cheeks went red in an instant.


    He was slipping further into the role he had once despised, becoming the very thing he used to hate.


    There¡¯s a saying: hate something long enough, and you¡¯ll eventually become it.


    With that thought lingering in his mind, he slung his round, cat-shaped plush bag over his shoulder, picking it up carelessly from where it had been tossed the last week''s Friday school day before.


    The bag, cheap and from a dollar store, only added to his overall innocent appearance.


    It was almost too perfect, a pale-skinned, porcelain doll with a cute ponytail and eyes like shining rubies, veiled by the soft fringe of his bangs.


    Anyone who didn¡¯t know better would easily mistake him for a beautiful young girl, an innocent one.


    The morning light poured through the hallway windows, casting a faint glow on the polished tiles beneath Mize¡¯s feet.


    His footsteps echoed softly as he walked, the casual shoes he¡¯d chosen for school scuffing with each step.


    He wore them intentionally, every aspect of his appearance today crafted to turn heads.


    He imagined the glances that would follow him, the whispered remarks, the silent admiration.


    But that''s it... he wanted attention and gazes alone, after all... ''I gotta grind points you know''


    It''s quite weird he must admit it... He craved attention, longing, and admiration from those around him but at the same time, he despised it when they disturbed him under these emotions that he had been yearning for.


    ''A bit hypocritical huh?'' He touched his nose for a moment as he was making his way towards the door, his steps light.


    With a smirk, he stepped out of his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him.


    The key turned in the lock smoothly, and there was a faint clink from the special mechanism that secured it.


    He pocketed the key with one swift motion, his hand brushing the soft fabric of his shirt.


    As he strode down the corridor, the faded paint of the walls passed by in a blur, the narrow space stretching before him.


    The building wasn¡¯t luxurious, just a typical high-rise with its share of imperfections, but it was home for now.


    His pace was unhurried until he reached the elevator, where he came to a halt, fingers hovering over the button for a moment before pressing it.


    ¡°Why did my parents rent a place this high up?¡± he muttered, a slight frown tugging at his lips. ¡°Could¡¯ve bought something cheaper in the suburbs with their old finances. Awakeners job makes you rich, sure, but it¡¯s dangerous too.¡±


    He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning against the cool wall as he waited.


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    The numbers above the elevator doors counted down slowly, too slowly for his liking.


    The pot of plants on the two sides of the lift door seemed to be quite pale today, "Oh wait, these are made out of plastic. As expected of the cheapskate owner of this building"


    Tick.


    Tick¡­


    Tick...


    A soft but incessant dripping sound broke through the relative silence. Mize stiffened, his ears tuning to the familiar noise.


    He turned his head slightly, spotting the source at the far end of the hallway, a dark, damp stain creeping across the ceiling, droplets of foul-smelling water hitting the concrete floor below.


    The stench hit his nostrils almost immediately, sharp and unpleasant, like urine left to fester.


    His nose wrinkled in disgust, his gaze lingering for only a moment longer before he shifted his weight and took a few steps to the side, distancing himself from the source.


    The elevator still hadn¡¯t arrived. He cast an irritated glance upward.


    The digital display continued its agonizingly slow descent, the numbers ticking down floor by floor.


    He sighed, flipping his phone out of his pocket. His other hand slipped into the side pocket of his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric, finding warmth.


    The familiar ding of a notification pulled his attention back to the screen.


    He scrolled through the messages absentmindedly, his thumb moving in a lazy rhythm.


    His gaze flickered over the exchange with Derek.


    [Derek: If you need anything, just ask me. I will buy it for you.]


    The messages were filled with attempts at humor, little gestures to win his favor, and, Mize had to admit, more often than not, they worked.


    He chuckled under his breath, a low, almost inaudible sound. The thought of his reaction made him cringe slightly, though.


    The playful giggles from the night before, those fleeting moments where his guard had slipped, they were genuine, and that¡¯s what unsettled him.


    God, I must¡¯ve looked like an idiot, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as a goosebump ran down along the back of his neck.


    He shook his head.


    ¡°If there was a hole with no end,¡± he muttered to himself, his voice low, ¡°I¡¯d be the first to jump into it.¡±


    With a sigh, he turned the phone off and slipped it back into his pocket.


    His eyes drifted up just in time to see the elevator¡¯s display finally nearing his floor.


    Ding.


    The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a dimly lit interior. He stepped inside without much thought, giving a cursory glance to the person already inside.


    A student, he noted, without much interest. Their eyes met briefly, and Mize gave a small, polite nod, nothing more.


    He moved to the back corner of the elevator, leaning his back against the cold, metallic wall.


    His fingers brushed against the smooth surface as he made himself comfortable, his posture relaxed, casual.


    He flipped his phone open again, diving back into the familiar world of messages and notifications, his focus already drifting away from his surroundings.


    The faint hum of the elevator¡¯s machinery filled the silence as the floor numbers counted, but Mize was lost in his thoughts, paying little attention to the presence beside him.


    Mize''s fingers scrolled absentmindedly across his phone screen, his focus on the tiny device sharper than it seemed.


    He was well aware of the boy standing next to him, even without looking.


    The subtle shift in body language, the stolen glances, Mize had felt that kind of attention many times before.


    This one was no different.


    The boy''s gaze flickered up and down, unsure but undeniably curious, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and something else, flustered, maybe?


    Mize could see the awkward, hesitant vibe radiating off him, like a person on the verge of saying something but lacking the courage to speak.


    Too bad, Mize thought, his lips twitching in the slightest curl. I¡¯m not interested in a kid. The boy, no matter how intrigued, was of no use to him.


    He wasn¡¯t looking for empty admirers or shallow crushes. Even Derek despite his appearance, gave him benefits in terms of money.


    His posture, rigid and dismissive, said everything the boy needed to know.


    With his eyes glued to his phone, Mize broadcasted his lack of interest clearly:


    The boy must have caught on, too. His earlier boldness seemed to dissolve into awkward silence, retreating inward.


    He shuffled in place, his gaze now glued to the floor as the elevator continued its slow descent.


    The hum of the machinery filled the space between them, punctuated only by the soft taps of Mize¡¯s fingers on his phone.


    A flicker of hunger passed through Mize¡¯s thoughts, his mind wandering to the meal he¡¯d had the night before.


    ''Now that I have money, might as well have a good meal at the canteen later'' Mize mused to himself.


    He glanced at his wristwatch briefly, one hand reaching up to lazily twirl a lock of hair, twisting it absentmindedly between his fingers.


    His other hand held the phone with little interest, it was outdated, old-school. ''What was this version again? Max 5?'' He frowned slightly, inspecting the worn-out design. ''Guess it¡¯s time for an upgrade, I will stop by the tech store after school ends''


    The elevator finally chimed with a soft ding, and Mize¡¯s gaze snapped to the front.


    Without a second thought, he shoved his phone into his pocket and stepped forward as the doors slid open.


    His movements were quick, and he didn¡¯t bother to glance back at the boy still standing behind him.


    But as Mize exited, he could sense the boy''s last grasp at courage.


    He heard the soft shuffle of footsteps, the hesitant movement of someone about to speak.


    The boy¡¯s voice, or whatever words he might¡¯ve planned to say, died in his throat.


    Mize''s brisk pace was too fast, his steps deliberate and unrelenting.


    ''Give up. Give up. Give up'' The mantra echoed in Mize¡¯s mind, his hand tightening around the strap of his bag.


    His steps were light but swift, almost as if he were half-skipping to avoid any further interaction. ''Just let me get to school in peace''


    Outside, the air was humid and clung to his skin, the remnants of the early morning fog still hanging in the atmosphere.


    Mize arrived at the bus stop, his gaze flickering across the empty street before he sat down on the long steel bench.


    The seat, like everything else in the area, was poorly designed, cold and uncomfortable.


    His loose jeans bunched awkwardly in the gaps between the metal beams, making the experience even worse.


    Whoever designed this must¡¯ve been a complete idiot, Mize thought, shifting uncomfortably on the bench.


    The water stains from the damp morning hadn¡¯t fully evaporated yet, leaving patches of moisture that clung to his clothes. Or maybe they were just a maniac.


    The thought sent a small shiver down his spine, though he smirked at the absurdity of it.


    Maniacs, those were far more dangerous than incompetent designers.


    His mind drifted to rogue awakeners, those rare but terrifying cases where someone lost control of their abilities.


    Mize had seen some of it himself, photos leaked onto shady websites, images burned into his brain that he could never unsee.


    The bodies. The blood. The sheer madness is etched into every scene.


    Corpses piled high, limbs scattered like broken dolls, intestines spilling out across the pavement.


    And always, at the center of it all, a rogue awakener, deranged, eyes wild, muttering incomprehensible things.


    Mize shuddered, his fingers gripping the cold edge of the bench.


    He hadn¡¯t expected much when he stumbled upon those images late one night, browsing out of morbid curiosity, but what he¡¯d found was nothing short of a nightmare.


    Deranged... crazy... He could still see it in his mind¡¯s eye, the blood, the destruction, the raw chaos of someone who had lost their grip on reality.


    And there had been whispers, too, barely audible in some of the clips, as if the rogue awakeners were talking to someone, or something, only they could hear.


    ''That¡¯s why I need to find someone strong'' Mize reminded himself, shaking off the lingering unease.

 Chapter 13: Shady fateful encounter with a "protagonist"

    I need a protagonist, Mize mused again, but this time the thought settled deep within him.


    He needed someone with the kind of tragic backstory and raw potential that would inevitably lead to greatness or someone to support, build up, and then reap the rewards once they hit their stride.


    The perfect hero for him to latch onto.


    A hero...


    It must be a hero, the goodie guy...


    But usually, they would face countless life and death challenges at every turn... but... they would become stronger too.


    It was a bit of a dilemma, but Mize focused on those op protagonists with overpowered power or something else.


    ''A grandpa who hides inside the pendant around his neck?''


    ''Yeah, the one that will become op quite quickly so I doesn''t have to worry about him not being able to protect me early on''


    Yes, he thought, the plan crystallizing as the bus approached in the distance.


    Find a hero when he''s at his lowest, be there for him, and when he¡¯s powerful¡­ I¡¯ll have a front-row seat to the rewards.


    It was a beautiful dream, almost too perfect.


    And this world?


    Oh, it was more than what it appeared to be on the surface.


    Mize knew that much already. The deeper he dug into the internet, the more twisted and bizarre the truth became.


    The world wasn¡¯t just chaotic, it was a storm of madness swirling around, and if you weren¡¯t careful, you could easily drown in it.


    As the bus neared, its quiet hum drawing closer, Mize straightened up on the bench, a bit of grunting as he stretched his body a little.


    The bus was already closing in from the other side, and little did he know, a particular boy had seen him stretching with wide eyes, a bit of longing even in the boy''s eyes.


    System, Mize called silently, his posture casual, are there children of destiny in this world? You know, the ones who are super OP and favored by heaven, the kinds who end up badass?


    The system responded immediately, the words appearing in his mind like a digital echo:


    [Yes, host. There are many in this world.]


    Mize¡¯s pulse skipped a beat. Oh? He stood up, smoothing his jeans as the bus pulled to a stop.


    No smell of oil or gas, just a clean, efficient hum as it ran on battery, the radiator hissing softly.


    He felt the warmth of steam brush against his face for a moment before it dissipated into the cool morning air.


    The doors opened with a faint hiss, and Mize stepped inside, his usual nonchalant stride leading him toward the back of the bus.


    His attention split between finding a seat and pursuing his next thought.


    Then, he asked the system, ''Find me a super OP one who¡¯s closest to me right now''


    [Yes, host. Searching...]


    His eyes scanned the back, settling on an empty seat in the far corner next to a person slouched over, hood up and head down, seemingly dozing off.


    Mize approached quietly, keeping to himself as he gave the hooded figure a gentle nudge.


    "Hey, mister," he murmured, "can I sit here?"


    The guy stirred, blinking groggily before tilting his head just enough for their eyes to meet.


    "A-ah... yeah, go ahead," he muttered, shifting slightly to make room.


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    Mize hesitated for just a second, caught off guard by the faint spark in the guy¡¯s deep black eyes.


    It was so dark and deep, more like a bottomless gaping hole.


    And then, right on cue, the system¡¯s voice rang again in Mize¡¯s mind, almost as if fate had written the moment for him.


    [The protagonist that suits the host''s needs is directly in front of you, possessing a ''golden finger''¡ªalong with several other powerful traits.]


    Mize¡¯s heart skipped. His body froze for just a split second.


    No way. Of all the people in the world, of all the moments, this kid, sitting right here next to him, was the one?


    And it was too abrupt at that!


    No way that this just happened because he wished fot it.


    It seemed so deliberate that he began to suspect that this was the system''s doing.


    Th boy in front of him waved his hand, eyes full of concern, breaking Mize¡¯s momentary trance. "Miss? You okay?"


    Mize blinked, quickly regaining his composure.


    "Ah, yeah, I¡¯m good." He gave a quick nod before sliding into the seat, his movements smooth but casual.


    As he sat down, his gaze flickered back to the boy¡¯s face for just a second longer, taking him in.


    Well, he thought, this one¡¯s got potential. The boy had that look, the kind of person who could be hiding something extraordinary under layers of awkward shyness.


    He wasn¡¯t bad-looking either, with a face that would probably draw attention once he shed the hood and gained some confidence.


    A diamond in the rough, Mize mused, already plotting in his head.


    Not knowing that this boy will be his biggest nightmare and also the soon to be terror of the world and beyond.


    He leaned back against the seat, settling into the shared armrest between them.


    His hair cascaded over his shoulders, loose and freshly washed, with the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air.


    It wasn¡¯t on purpose, but Mize could tell that the boy had noticed, his arm had twitched slightly the moment their elbows brushed.


    It wasn¡¯t much, just a small touch, but Mize could feel the subtle tension between them.


    The kid was trying hard to act like it didn¡¯t happen like he hadn¡¯t noticed, but the slight tremor in his movements betrayed him.


    Mize smirked inwardly.


    Too easy. But he wasn¡¯t here to intimidate the guy or make him uncomfortable.


    Small gestures, subtle moves to build rapport.


    That¡¯s what would work best or at least that was the way he thought would work the best.


    He relaxed further into the seat, one arm resting lazily on the armrest, fingers lightly grazing the edge of the seat.


    His other hand twirled a strand of his hair, a casual gesture as he let the silence stretch between them, comfortable in its ease.


    There was no rush. No need to force anything. The boy, the protagonist, Mize corrected mentally, was already hooked, whether he knew it or not.


    The plan was simple, build trust, be the one person this kid could rely on, and then reap the benefits as he inevitably rose to greatness.


    Small gestures, Mize reminded himself. Keep it cool.


    Unbeknownst to him, his plan was destined to fail. Logic couldn''t be applied to a protagonist or these group of people since they operated outside of logic itself.


    The bus rattled forward, each bump providing Mize with a small window to observe the boy¡¯s reactions with a few other touches here and there, test his plan, and execute his every move carefully.


    The fifteen-minute ride to the school would give him just enough time to make an impression, and he had no intention of wasting it.


    Small gestures, he reminded himself. Don''t scare him off too early.


    Mize casually adjusted the bag on his lap, subtly leaning to one side.


    His posture was deliberate, the slight turn revealing a sliver of his neck, smooth, almost translucent pale skin, accentuated by the dark collar snug around it.


    Against his soft appearance, the collar hinted at a wild, untamed quality that was anything but innocent.


    The exposed veins only added to the effect, and it didn¡¯t take long for the boy next to him to start fidgeting, retreating further into his side of the seat, his gaze flickering nervously away from their shared armrest.


    Other boys scattered throughout the bus had taken notice too, and Mize was keenly aware of it.


    He could practically feel their stares, sharp, questioning, a bit envious as they glanced at his seatmate, clearly wondering how this nobody had ended up next to someone like her.


    Their interest was blatant, and it amused Mize to see them practically shoot daggers his way.


    He gave them a quick, challenging glance, letting his lips curl just a little in a smirk.


    Then, as if addressing them directly, he muttered, just loud enough for their ears, ¡°What are you perverts staring at? Wanna die?¡± The words sounded harsh, especially coming from his soft, almost doll-like voice, but that only made the statement more unsettling, and amusing.


    With his delicate features, red eyes that gleamed almost mischievously, and puffed cheeks tinged with faint irritation, he looked more like a pouting cherub than anything truly threatening.


    One of the boys blinked, caught off guard. ¡°A-ah, sorry¡­we weren¡¯t¡­uh,¡± he stammered, quickly grabbing his friend by the shoulder and turning away with a hurried mutter, cheeks flushed.


    Satisfied, Mize settled back, a victorious smile playing on his lips.


    He crossed his arms with a little nod of triumph, letting his attention drift back to the boy sitting beside him.


    From his vantage point, Mize could see the boy¡¯s face turning a shade pinker, his eyes wide and hesitant, as if he¡¯d been watching something both mesmerizing and terrifying all at once.


    He quickly looked away, hunching in on himself, trying to shrink his presence down to nothing.


    Interesting, Mize thought with a flicker of amusement, catching the boy¡¯s behavior from the corner of his eye.


    Leaning over slightly, Mize let his hair fall forward, brushing softly against his shoulders as he reached out and tapped the boy on the shoulder.


    ¡°Hey, you.¡± His voice was soft but clear, each syllable designed to keep the boy on edge.


    The boy stiffened, the corners of his mouth twitching into an awkward, almost pained smile as he forced himself to meet Mize¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°Y-yes?¡± he replied, stammering, the nervousness evident in his expression.

 Chapter 14: the journey on the bus

    Mize leaned in a little closer, his hair falling like a dark curtain around his shoulders, accentuating his narrowed gaze.


    Up close, the boy seemed to notice more details he¡¯d missed before, the way Mize¡¯s hair reached down to his waist, framing a subtle curve to his collarbone and that dark collar around his neck.


    ''Almost like a leash'' The boy thought inwardly.


    With a casual tilt of his head, Mize gestured with his finger toward the boys who had been staring earlier, his tone dropping on a lower end, but nonetheless... It was still a crisp and cute voice to the boy''s ears. ¡°Why are you fidgeting, are you okay?"


    The boy¡¯s eyes darted nervously, glancing everywhere but at Mize, clinging to the phone as if it were some kind of shield.


    Then, he seized his lifeline. Holding the phone up to his ear, he put on the bravest voice he could muster, though it wavered with nerves.


    ¡°A-ah yes, Mom¡­¡± he said a weak, flimsy cover that was neither loud enough to draw attention nor quiet enough to mask his discomfort.


    ''Even though I am basically an orphan but this must be extremely believable to her, right?''


    Mize¡¯s lips quirked as he watched this clumsy act play out.


    With a slow, unimpressed blink, he rolled his eyes, the hint of a smile vanishing into something else. ''The play must goes on''


    He leaned forward, reaching out with the faintest touch, a gentle flick against the phone in the boy¡¯s trembling hand.


    ¡°Here,¡± he murmured a soft, crisp tone that hung just on the edge of teasing. ¡°Your phone was upside down.¡±


    The boy froze.


    His fingers tightened as he looked down, heart dropping in horror at the simple, devastating fact.


    The phone was, indeed, flipped the wrong way up, its blank, inactive screen giving away his bluff in the most humiliating way possible.


    Mize leaned back casually, pulling out his phone and directing his gaze to it, as though nothing particularly remarkable had happened.


    A ringing silence fell between them, heavy and all-consuming, punctuated only by the hum of the bus¡¯s engine.


    The boy sat rigid, back plastered against the seat as if he¡¯d become part of it, each muscle locked in place.


    The embarrassment filled through him, seeping into every bone, every thought.


    He¡¯d been caught in the act of trying to fish out of the problem and now being exposed for his pathetic attempt to escape in front of such a beautiful girl at that!


    Beside him, Mize¡¯s soft, restrained giggles floated through the air like invisible needles, pricking at his every nerve, only deepening his sense of helplessness.


    Heat crept across his cheeks, burning in tandem with the shame swirling inside him, and he could practically feel himself shrinking, melting into a puddle.


    ''This is it'' he thought, a hollow sigh escaping as he slumped back in his seat, defeated.


    ''This is the end''


    ''My social life is over'' He muttered it under his breath, barely a whisper as if releasing that small confession could somehow lessen the weight pressing down on him.


    His fingers slackened, and the phone, the phone that had been his last-ditch effort to save face, slipped from his grasp, falling uselessly onto his lap.


    He glanced outside the window, gaze empty, fixated on the passing buildings he no longer registered.


    The world outside blurred, shifting like a dream, and he could do nothing but sit, crushed under the weight of his embarrassment.


    Then, as if the bus itself conspired against him, a faint chuckle drifted over from the row in front, someone laughing at his expense, their whispers stinging like tiny thorns.


    ''Oh no, they heard it too'' he thought miserably.


    He wanted to vanish, to disappear completely into the fabric of his hoodie.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    If he could just pull his hood over his head, if he could just sink low enough, maybe, just maybe, no one would notice him anymore.


    But as he slouched lower, a futile attempt to hide in plain sight, Mize¡¯s quiet presence beside him refused to fade.


    Instead, Mize sat with unbothered ease, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world.


    The boy stole a glance, catching only a glimpse of that cool, unreadable expression before quickly looking away.


    The bus rolled on, the cityscape outside a blur of shapes and colors, carrying them both toward a destination the boy felt both too eager and too afraid to reach.


    And Mize, for his part, sat quietly, unmoving the whole time.


    After all, the soft and small gestures that he wanted had already happened. As for more, it would depend on the situations at hand.


    One at a time...


    One at a time.....


    I must take it slowly...


    Mize could practically see the boy''s spirit leaving his body, and it was all he could do to keep his expression neutral, though he couldn¡¯t quite hide the tiny smirk that danced on his lips.


    The boy slumped down in his seat, glancing out the window like it was the only escape route he had left, staring so hard at the passing buildings you¡¯d think they held the secrets of the universe.


    The steady hum of the bus engine seemed to mock him, a soundtrack to the boy¡¯s self-diagnosed social demise.


    ''Poor guy'' Mize thought, glancing his way.


    The boy seemed to be trying to disappear entirely, pulling the hood of his black sweatshirt up and sinking further as though he could just merge with the seat and become part of the bus.


    Mize wondered how much more flustered he could get him without breaking him completely.


    There was a certain appeal in that: how far could he press before the boy¡¯s shyness turned into something else?


    Defiance, maybe, or better yet, dependence.


    Someone who would follow him, the way a lost dog might latch on to the one person who gave it any attention.


    But what he doesn''t know was that, this boy wasn''t one to just latch, he was one that would be crazy for him, obsessed even.


    The one that would defy the world just because he would shed a single drop of tear.


    Back to the scene.


    With a casual air, Mize leaned over again, making sure his voice was soft, just loud enough to reach the boy but not the others.


    ¡°You alright there?¡± he asked, his tone almost gentle, though his lips quirked into an amused grin.


    He could see the boy¡¯s shoulders tense up, his hands fumbling to hold onto his phone again, anything to distract from the awkward mess he was now hopelessly entangled in.


    The boy hesitated, glancing Mize¡¯s way with a mix of gratitude and mortification. ¡°Y-yeah,¡± he mumbled, gripping the phone tight in his hand. ¡°Just... didn¡¯t sleep much last night.¡±


    ''Cute excuse'' Mize thought.


    But he only nodded, as if taking the boy¡¯s answer at face value, before turning his attention back to his phone, letting the silence settle in again.


    This time, though, the boy seemed to relax just a fraction.


    Mize let him breathe, leaning his head back against the seat, but he kept an eye on him from the corner of his vision.


    As the bus rattled on, Mize decided he¡¯d pushed enough for now. There was time, plenty of time to dig his claws in deeper.


    The bus finally slowed to a stop in front of the school¡¯s main gate, this huge, gleaming marble thing that looked like it was plucked right out of a palace.


    The place was packed with different ways to get around, bus stops, bike racks, you name it.


    The government didn¡¯t just build a school here, they built a kingdom, investing every penny into making this place the ideal training ground for ¡°awakeners¡±, students who¡¯d be more than your average kid once they, well, awakened.


    With their curriculum packed with everything from science to history to some bizarre ¡°enlightenment¡± classes, it was clear that they weren¡¯t just looking to create smart students, they were cultivating human weapons.


    But back in the bus, Mize was already getting ready to leave, throwing his backpack on and giving a nod to the awkward kid beside him.


    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯ll get going,¡± he said with a quick smile, leaving the guy there still half-frozen, probably blushing.


    Mize chuckled to himself as he stepped off the bus.


    Targeting this kid wasn¡¯t exactly rocket science, he was the main menu of the whole world, for now, at least.


    Mize was sure he¡¯d made the kind of impression that was hard to shake.


    ''Left him with some good memories, huh?'' he thought, stepping away as he felt the boy¡¯s stare still lingering.


    And as if he remembered something, Mize turned around for a moment.


    Their gazes meeting in between and he chuckled a soft laugh from his mouth. "By the way, stand straight a little would ya? You have the looks but a pity you are a shy boy"


    With those words muttered, Mize spun on his heel and left the scene in a hurry.


    He headed through the marble gate, glancing up at it.


    ¡°Entrance¡± didn¡¯t do it justice; it felt more like a gateway to some over-the-top palace.


    With his hair loose, casually falling over his shoulders, he walked ahead, noticing the eyes on him as he went.


    It was hard not to smirk as he caught a few glances in his direction. ''Beauty privilege?''


    Yeah, it¡¯s real, all right'' he thought, shrugging as he continued, letting the attention slide off him like water.


    Ahead, the cobblestone path cut through the campus grounds, wide and lined with big trees casting shade over everything.


    Even with the summer heat, it was cool here, the air heavy with the smell of wet earth and leaves.


    Mize took a deep breath and relaxed his stride, letting himself take in the scene for once.


    This place was more than big. ''Not just big, it''s humongous'' he thought, watching the crowd of students all around him.


    Over five thousand kids in this place, are all primed to become ¡°assets¡± someday.


    Checking his watch, he saw it was only 10:45. ''Still sometime before class started at 12'' he thought, sighing.


    Unfortunately, his first period was with none other than Mr.Thompson. The name alone made Mize¡¯s skin crawl a bit.


    "That pervert, urk... " But if he were to skip Mr.Thompson class, then the issue would be even bigger.


    ''The chances of me getting harassed in class is low rather than being called to his office, then it would be the death of me'' Mize secretly thought within, his steps light and yet fast at the same time.


    ''I must not let that man have the chance to call me there'' He had been there once, and he doesn''t want to experience it twice.