┌───►SYSTEM
[Initial Spawn: Valtherion Mansion – Selected as Punishnt Point]
└───♦
Haru stared at the floating letters with a mixture of anger and disbelief. The system had no filters.
┌───►
[Reason: Illegal Installation of Smut Mod Harassnt of a Divine Entity]
└───♦
"Installation of Smut Mod? Guilty. And I don’t regret a thing! The original code was offensively chaste, I just gave the ga the realism it deserved," he thought, proud of his work. "But harassnt of a deity? I’m a wanker, but I’m a God-fearing wanker! I prayed... sotis."
That’s when the image popped into his mind. The neon vacuum. The throne. That woman with impossible curves who welcod him right after his VR suit short-circuited.
He rembered the dive. His face sinking into those breasts that didn’t seem like human flesh; they were light as water, warm as the sun, and soft like nothing else on Earth. He had clung to them like a shipwreck survivor.
"So that hot chick from the afterlife was really a goddess? And I used my last breath to... Holy shit, I committed harassnt against the high command of the universe."
A smile appeared on his face. He felt no guilt. "Man, I’ve never been so proud of myself."
Haru was sitting on the dirt floor of the stable, leaning against an old wooden wall that slled of horse urine and rotten hay. He picked up a small, shriveled apple he found in a bucket, wiped it on his dirty linen shirt, and took an audible bite. As he chewed, his eyes watched the mansion courtyard, where guards trained with wooden swords under the hot sun.
He called up the system interface again. He needed to organize the data in his head. He knew that title: Aethelgard: Chronicles of Blood. In the otaku community, the ga was famous for its stunning won and epic action story.
The problem was that Haru had skipped several epic parts. He hacked the code to install his own "smut mod" and only watched a few scenes to make sure the mod worked before selling it to the community. Now he was paying the price, and for abusing a Goddess, he was thrown into the most brutal starting point of the ga: the Barony of Valtherion.
He searched for more information in the system to organize what he knew about that place.
┌───►SYSTEM◄───┐
[spawn point info]
├──────♦───────►
◊ The Territory: Fertile but dangerous lands. They are constantly under attack from bandits or monsters that descend from the mountains.
◊ The Mansion: An ancient stone building. It is the ho of Baron Aldric Valtherion, a widowed military man, strict and obsessed with honor. He is deeply in debt, and his only hope of restoring his family’s glory is his daughter’s success.
◊ Isabela Valtherion (18 years old)
◊ Profile: Tall, athletic, and arrogant. She is stubborn and ambitious.
◊ Ambitions: She wants to enter the Imperial Academy of Aetherion, the most elite school in the kingdom, to beco an Imperial Knight.
└──────────────♦
Haru closed his eyes for a mont. The information provided by the system was scarce, but the diagnosis was clear. He rembered that if a player chose to start there, the main character would be Isabela’s bodyguard.
He looked at himself. He wasn’t the guard. He was nothing, the NPC who cleans horse manure and no one cares about.
"But there is still a glimr of hope..." he muttered, but Haru’s optimism collapsed as soon as he checked his Status and Attributes.
┌───►SYSTEM◄───┐
[STATUS WINDOW]
├────
◊ Na: Haru Mizuki.
◊ Race: Human (Cursed)
◊ Rank: None
◊ Class: None
◊ Title: None
◊ XP: 0000 [LVL: -1]
└──────────────────────♦
┌─ [STATUS WINDOW]
◊ Strength: 0
◊ Agility: 0
◊ Stamina: -1
◊ Intelligence: 1
◊ Luck: 1
◊ Mana: -1
└─────────────────────♦
"Damn it!" Haru scread internally. "I’m screwed. I’m going to die before the first Chapter is over. I’m still in the prologue and I’m already a corpse!"
He took a deep breath, trying to contain his panic. "Think, Haru... think!" He refocused and opened the Skills tab.
┌── [Skills]
♦ TOUCH OF THE GODDESS (CELLULAR MORY)]
◊ Effect: Allows the user to collect genetic data and power through physical contact with females of different rational species...
◊ Note: The higher the Rank (status, lineage, or power) of the target, the higher the user’s evolution rate.
└─────────
"I get the ga," thought Haru, his eyes scanning the mansion’s courtyard. "It’s not about love, it’s about Efficiency."
He saw one of the maids passing by with a basket of laundry, a young woman of simple but healthy build. "If I touch that one, I’ll level up at dial-up internet speed. It might take years to stop being trash with zero attributes."
His gaze turned to the noble wing of the mansion. "But if I could touch a royal blood elf, a dragon princess, or a goddess... the power download would be instantaneous. I would jump from slave to monster in seconds."
That’s when the image of Isabela Valtherion beca central. She was the highest-ranked target in that provincial backwater. She was the daughter of a Baron, a future Imperial Knight with warrior blood.
"Isabela isn’t just a hot chick," Haru smiled, greed shining in his eyes. "She’s the highest rank this spawn point offers. If I want to evolve quickly and survive the monsters of this world, I need to connect with her. It’s pure survival math."
┌── [BLESSINGS]:
♦ None.
└─────────
┌──[CURSES]:
♦ Slave of Chronia (Innate)
◊ Effect: Activated after death. (No additional description available).
└─────────
"I don’t even know this Chronia!" he grumbled. "And how does sothing activate after I die? If I’m already dead, what difference does it make? What a shitty ga..."
He sighed heavily, but his determination as a "philosopher of the flesh" spoke louder. He wasn’t going to die a virgin again. If the system was unfair, he would use the only thing he had: his predatory will...
If I rember correctly, there’s a way to set personal goals, let’s see...
┌──[GOALS]
♦ Isabela
◊ Gain her trust, to do that compete in the guard election and win.
◊ Get physically close enough to collect essence. Collect as much as possible.
└─────────
Haru wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his dirty hand, but stopped when he heard the sound of hooves approaching.
It was Isabela crossing the courtyard, accompanied by Cedrick, the stern-faced butler. She was visibly exhausted from training. Sweat made her white linen shirt stick to her skin, making the fabric almost transparent. In the sunlight, the outline of her breasts was clear, and the moisture revealed the pinkish hue of her nipples pressed against the fabric.
She wore a training outfit that defied noble etiquette: a short, awkward skirt that revealed firm thighs, tightened by long white stockings that rose to mid-calf, creating that slight pressure on the flesh that Haru so admired.
"Damn it, Cedrick!" she complained, her pink mouth twisted in pure contempt. "That instructor is an imbecile! He says my movents are too wide, but how does he expect to generate ignition without amplitude? My fire needs space, not museum discipline!"
Cedrick just nodded, trying to keep up. Isabela didn’t notice the state of her skirt or the way the costu revealed her curves; her only obsession was strength.
Haru, leaning against the wall, watched every detail. Her arrogance was palpable, but to him, it was just the shell of a high-level energy battery.
"That’s Isabela..." thought Haru, his eyes fixed on the line where her stocking t her thigh. "In the future, she’ll be a ruthless General. Right now, she’s just my key to getting out of this hole. I need to touch her. I need her so I don’t die with my attributes at zero."
Isabela prepared to dismount. As she swung her leg over the animal’s back, her short skirt rode up even higher, betrayed by the sudden movent. Haru, who was leaning slightly, did not look away. For a brief second, the fabric gave way, revealing the lower curve of her right buttock, firm skin, tanned by the sun during training and marked by the tight white line of her stocking. It was a technical sight, which he savored with an audible sigh.
As she touched the ground, Isabela noticed the young slave watching her, lying indolently. Haru stared at her with an audacity that did not belong to a servant. She rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue in pure boredom. To her, he was just part of the dirty landscape of the stable.
Suddenly Haru stood up, his fingers tingling with the desire to test [Cellular mory] on that skin, but his advance was interrupted by a sharp impact. The butler Cedrick, without even looking at him, slapped his hand against Haru’s face, pushing him back as he handed him the stallion’s reins.
"Take good care of Maximus. If he has a single knot in his mane, your skin will pay the price," the servant said before hurrying after Isabela, who continued her monologue of complaints about the training.
Haru held the rope, but instead of leading the horse away, he lowered his body almost to the ground, trying to catch one last glimpse of Isabela’s skirt as she walked away. His thoughts were purely predatory.
"I need to feel every inch of that power. If I want to survive in this world of zero attributes, she has to be mine."
Night fell. In the silence of the stable, only the sound of the horses’ rhythmic chewing filled the air. Haru sat on a bale of dry straw, his head resting against the cold wood. The plan for survival was in place, but his body, that slave body with trashy attributes, was begging for a freedom that the system did not offer.
"Damn! Being the main character sucks..." he muttered into the darkness. "Imagine being the guy who owned this body before ... the guy just ate and slept. But will I be any different? I have the System. I have knowledge of the cutscenes."
But knowledge did not calm the erection that throbbed against the cheap linen of his pants. The image of Isabela, sweaty, with her shirt stuck to her skin and the glimpse of that firm ass under her skirt, was poison in his mind.
"Before conquering the kingdom, I need to clear my mind," he decided.
Haru got up and locked the wooden door, or at least tried to close it tightly. He looked for a secluded corner. He looked to the left: horses. He looked to the right: more horses. He closed his eyes and conjured up the image of the Goddess on the throne, with those divine breasts he had buried his face in monts before.
He pulled down his pants. His right hand grabbed his cock with the precision of an expert. He began to jerk off, slowly at first, but soon the pace quickened. Haru applied one of his legendary VR techniques: the "Helical Wrist Spin," a continuous rotating motion that simulated a friction that this dieval world could not even dream of.
"Ahhh... that... almost there..." he gasped, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.
CREEEAK.
The sound of creaking wood filled the air. Haru froze; his body was at the peak of nervous discharge. He turned his neck sharply.
The door was open. But there was no flashlight. There was no Isabela.
There was only a figure. A black silhouette, camouflaged by the darkness of the night, which moved like a tear in reality. The intruder did not hesitate. There was no villainous monologue. Just a sonic dash that made the straw in the stable fly.
The steel glinted in the dim moonlight.
Haru, his pants around his ankles and his erect mber in his hand, didn’t even have ti to feel fear. He felt only a sudden chill in his throat, followed by a gushing heat. The killer’s blade, curved and sharp, cut through his neck with the ease of cutting butter.
Haru’s vision spun violently. He saw his own body, still standing for a millisecond, spurting blood like a broken fountain, before collapsing onto the straw. His head rolled to the side, stopping at a grotesque angle, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the stable.
Baron Valtherion had enemies. The Baron suffered constant attacks. Haru, the hacker who thought he was the master of the ga, had forgotten his number one rule: The predator does not wait for the prey to finish masturbating.
As the light in his eyes faded and coldness filled him, one last system notification flashed purple at the edge of his consciousness:
[CHRONIA’S CURSE: ACTIVATED]
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