[Na: Kaizen Ryuga]
Rank: F (For "Fuck, he’s actually here")
Skills:
Eye of Truth (Rank SSS):
Your gaze is now a tactical nuke against privacy. Nothing can be hidden from your eyes. Any being you lay eyes on will reveal their deepest, most shaful inner feelings and the exact type of "extracurricular activities" they dream about when nobody is looking.
Yin Extraction (Rank SSS):
The ultimate biological tax. You can extract one permanent skill from any being you have successfully pounded into absolute, shivering oblivion. You aren’t just taking their dignity; you’re stealing their talent and leaving them with nothing but a hazy mory and a need for a cigarette.
Harem Master (Rank SSS):
You are the CEO of the Pound-Town Conglorate. You can add mbers to your harem with the ease of a grocery list. Whenever they gain power through training or "private lessons," that power is shared directly with you. You’re basically a sexual pyramid sche where you always sit at the top.
Steal (Rank SSS):
The "Panties and bras Be Gone" special. A legendary skill that defies the laws of physics and laundry. With just a flick of your finger, you can teleport the undergarnts of any target directly into your hand.
Kaizen stared at the screen with his jaw hitting the cobblestones, his cooling glasses slipping down his nose as he realized he had just been handed the keys to a kingdom made of silk, skin, and S-rank bad decisions.
These are fucking SSS-ranked skills!
Even when he was playing this pixelated smut-fest for seventy-two hours straight, the original MC, Leo, only managed to scrape together one single A-ranked combat skill.
And here Kaizen was, sitting on four SSS-ranked cheat codes like a goddamn king.
What kind of broken-ass luck was this?!
Did that virgin author even try to make this transmigration difficult?
Or did his soul take a shortcut through a cheat-code dinsion on the way here?
Anyway, who gives a flying fuck?
"I have four fucking SSS-ranked skills and that is all that matters right now. I am going to personally test these out on the first set of ’holy assets’ I find."
But then, a cold prickle of reality hit him.
There had to be a catch. His instinct, mostly honed by years of reading trashy tropes, was screaming that this was way too easy.
He squinted at the status screen again, digging past the shiny golden skills, and finally realized where the dev had hidden the middle finger.
"Ah... son of a bitch."
All these skills were useless if he couldn’t actually get within sniffing distance of a woman.
Even if he could see their deepest, thirstiest desires, he couldn’t make a move if every girl in a ten-mile radius sprinted away the mont he appeared.
In fact, anyone who wasn’t filthy rich or powerful enough to ignore him would treat him like a walking pile of radioactive dog shit.
That was because of his na: Kaizen Ryuga.
He was the third son of the Ryuga family, an ancient noble warrior clan... and he was the undisputed, legendary Trash Young Master of the era.
Kaizen rembered this character now.
This third-rated sack of uselessness was Leo’s favorite punching bag in the academy.
Since Leo was the "Golden Boy" scholarship case with more sponsors than a NASCAR driver, because every idiot and their mother was convinced Leo was the next Fire Breather, the world basically poured money and protection into his lap.
Consequently, Leo was one of the very few people who could absolutely thrash Kaizen’s ass without a single legal consequence.
He was the typical, arrogant, zero-talent, poop-brained young master who bullies the hero, gets his teeth kicked in, and then cos back for a second helping of ass-whooping with so pathetic, half-baked sche.
"....Son of a bitch!"
Suddenly, a notification window popped up, glowing with the smug radiance of a developer who definitely hasn’t showered in a week.
[Ding!]
[Ha ha ha! Did you finally realize it, you piece of one-fifth-of-a-bird-poop?! This is your divine punishnt for trash-talking my magnum opus with your greasy keyboard warrior fingers!]
[Sure, you’ve got SSS-ranked skills, but you’re stuck in the body of a social leper. Any girl with a functioning set of eyes and a soul will sprint away from the likes of you like you’re a walking herpes outbreak!]
[That is your punishnt. SSS skills for girls, but no girls will even look at you!]
[Entertain , Kaizen. I will be watching you crawl through this world with great interest. Good luck competing with my self—cough cough—I an, with the legendary Leo for the girls!]
[Here is your stupid first quest. It’s a tiny little task, so don’t sweat it too hard, okay? He he he.]
[SUDDEN QUEST: THE HANDYMAN]
Objective: Grab the asses of three "Main Heroines." (Firmly. No hovering.)
Ti Limit: 2 Days.
Penalty: Instant, painful, soul-erasing Death!
Reward: $100,000
"This stupid, crusty-sock-sniffing, son-of-a-street-dog-poop-worm’s son! His virgin-ass ’easy’ quest?! What the actual fuck is that penalty?!"
Grab three main heroine asses or be dead in forty-eight hours?! That wasn’t a quest; that was a suicide mission via sexual harassnt!
These weren’t just any girls; these were the plot-armored, world-saving beauties who could probably incinerate him with a sneeze!
Kaizen ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a breath that slled like dumpster juice.
"Fine. You want a villain, you digital prick? I’ll give you a villain. I will NTR your precious self-insert Leo so hard he’ll forget what a woman even looks like! Fuck this shit! I am going in!"
With renewed vigor, completely ignoring his lack of pants, Kaizen didn’t even bother looking for his own dorm.
He spotted a nearby student, a skinny guy who looked like he’d apologize to a door for bumping into it, and lunged at him like a caffeinated predator.
He bullied the poor kid into a corner until the boy tearfully stripped off his entire uniform.
Kaizen could have walked to his own room to get dressed like a civilized human, but where was the fun in that?
"I am a fucking villain now..."
Kaizen muttered, buttoning up the stolen blazer over his duck boxers.
"...And villains don’t wait for laundry day."
...
Kaizen, having just ntally scarred a nerd and left him shivering in his tighty-whities, began to strut through the academy grounds like he owned the damn pavent.
He wasn’t here to admire the architecture or the "prestigious atmosphere." He was here to hunt.
"Bingo. There’s the legendary orange-haired goddess, Oriya."
His eyes locking onto a chest that defied the laws of structural engineering.
"She’s with her little entourage of background extras. Who’s that generic loser she’s pining for? Ichigo? Strawberry? Whatever. Who gives a shit."
The virgin developer was clearly a terminal otaku because every main heroine was a blatant copyright-infringent of an ani girl, just with a 400% buff to their peaches and cream.
Oriya was a goddamn masterpiece of "high art"—an innocent, doe-eyed face sitting atop a fra that looked like it was forged in the fires of a dirty mind.
Her mid-thigh blue skirt was fighting a losing battle against thighs so thick they could crush a man’s skull like a ripe grape.
"Haa... my life is finally starting. My glorious, perverted life."
But before he could even start plotting his tactical approach, a nearby crowd of students erupted into a chorus of thirsty whispers and pathetic simping.
"Look at them! They’re so perfect it hurts! I’m literally weeping!"
"So elegant. So refined. I’d let her step on my windpipe just to hear the crunch."
"Fuck! I’m getting a diamond-cutter just looking at the President’s rack! I’m about to burst a dam right here in the hallway!"
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