Ray woke up way earlier than usual.
There was this weird urge to shower—like yesterday’s insanity was still clinging to his skin. He stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but his favorite boxers. Screw aesthetics. He lived alone.
He headed to the kitchen, turned on the stove, and cracked an egg into the pan. While it sizzled, he mixed a protein shake and checked his phone.
The screen looked like a digital apocalypse.
[BREAKING: WW3 NEARLY POPPED OFF DUE TO MASSIVE CYBER ATTACK!]
Apparently, so global cyber incident had leaked an insane amount of state secrets overnight. The world almost went up in flas—until a so-called Super AI stepped in and patched things up.
Ray snorted while flipping the egg.
"Super AI?" he muttered. "What, like so cracked-out premium chatbot?"
He scrolled.
Short videos flooded his feed—people straight-up confessing to cheating. No sha. No hesitation.
Ray laughed under his breath.
The world was tearing itself apart because secrets weren’t secrets anymore.
And the mastermind behind it all?
A dude in boxers. Frying eggs.
His smile faded when he saw the more personal fallout.
[THE GREAT TRUTH: MASS DIVORCE EVENT]
Millions of confession clips. Affairs aired publicly. The result?
A global wave of divorce filings.
Most of them—from n.
Ray whistled low.
"Damn..." he muttered, wiping a stray dot of yolk from his chin.
"Alpha-male influencers are about to eat real good today."
"The ’high-value man’ grift’s gonna hit an all-ti high."
He slid the greasy egg onto a plate that hadn’t seen soap in three days and collapsed into his creaky dining chair, phone propped against his half-empty shaker.
Then—
A video autoplayed.
A purple-haired woman stared straight into the cara, eyes wide and feral.
[LISTEN UP! THIS ISN’T A COINCIDENCE!]
[THIS ’DEADLY HONESTY’ PHENONON IS THE WORK OF A GASLIGHTING DEMON!]
[HE’S EVIL! PETTY! AND HE WANTS TO DESTROY CIVILIZATION!]
"PFFFT—"
Ray choked on his egg.
He coughed violently, face turning red, slamming his shaker down to wash it through.
"What the actual hell?!" he wheezed, glaring at the screen.
"Bastard demon? Evil? Petty?"
He looked down at himself.
Boxers.
Cramped apartnt.
Cracked ceiling.
Fried egg. Yolk still on his chin.
"Damn, lady," he muttered. "You got one hell of a narrative going."
He kept scrolling.
[WORLD LEADER LEAKS PRIVATE CHATS WITH OTHER LEADERS TO ’SECURE THE DATA’]
"WILD," Ray grinned while chewing.
The report showed a head of state publicly dumping private ssages—apparently to protect them.
"Hmm..." Ray said thoughtfully.
"Could get dicey if they actually start a war."
He shrugged.
"Whatever. Easy fix."
"If WW3 pops off, I’ll just Global Alter it into peace."
He paused.
Then chuckled.
"Or I could speed it up."
"Make a new common sense—like nukes being the ultimate symbol of international love."
"The bigger the warhead, the deeper the affection."
Ray leaned back in his chair.
From behind a ssy table, in boxers, eating breakfast—
He felt like the admin of reality.
"So much power," he murmured.
His eyes drifted to the faint, floating fingerprint icon.
Ray tapped it casually.
The panel appeared.
---
Daily Missions Available:
• Simple
• dium
• Hardcore
---
Ray stared at the last option.
"Hardcore, huh..."
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Might be fun to see how much worse my life can get."
He shrugged.
"Screw it. Nothing to lose."
Ray smashed the button.
[Ding!]
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