I asked Sexis about his experience in prison. As if he went to Japan as a tourist.
He told he went through hell.
I expected "hell" ant he got used the way Johnson wanted to use . But no. By "hell" he ant not getting used at all.
Apparently, the prisoners did want to use him… until they caught him beating his at to a dictionary. A dictionary, bro. Out of all the things in existence, man chose the Oxford Word-gasm Edition.
They lost their appetite like vegans at a KFC buffet. Like a man who got proposed to by a hot girl only to see a cara recording him. The plan to violate Sexis got scrapped faster than a Netflix show with morals.
A prisoner nad Diddier, yes that's the na, explained all this, and when he finished, Sexis started crying like an Onlyfans model when she got to know it's only her body that people cared for.
I thought he cried from the insults. But no—
"If I hadn't listened to my urges and left the dictionary alone, then I would've fully experienced prison life!"
He wasn't crying from trauma. He was crying from lack of trauma. Man was grieving missed penetration opportunities.
And ? I was grieving my decision to ever start this conversation.
"Alright. Stop. Let's focus. I get that everyone here suffered because of Malthus. But you need to know what's happening in the world. Since you were all stuck in prison, you've got no idea what that bald war criminal's been doing."
One prisoner raised his hand.
I stared at him like he'd just moaned during a funeral.
"This isn't a classroom, man. Just talk before I lose faith in humanity for good."
He nodded, dead serious like a serial killer in an orgy.
"You were also in the prison. So how do you know what is happening in the world, lord hero?"
"Good question. But your good question has no good answer. I learned it from my system — basically the annoying cousin of God that lives in my head rent-free."
The prisoners shrugged like NPCs skipping dialogue. They didn't care about my lore dump; they just wanted Malthus' head on a stick and maybe so free food.
Sexis jumped in. "Your system can talk, Racis?"
"Yes. Not yours?"
"No. Mine only shows my stats. It's like Tinder, but with numbers and depression."
"Alright, forget it. Hear out. Silence I want."
Everyone obeyed. The room went quiet like an ICU after the patient farted during his hemorrhoid operation.
Only the candles dripped wax, sounding like the house was crying for help.
I began explaining everything Malthus had done after I disappeared —
How he renad all seven continents like a drunk geography teacher on a power trip.
How he captured my family and Erect's sister and hid them like limited-edition pills to increase penis size that actually works.
How he taxed everyone like an Indian uncle discovering crypto.
And how he punished anyone who dared say his na without adding "Lord" before it.
By the end, everyone's fists were clenched so tight you could've cracked walnuts with their rage.
Then—
[ Ding! ]
[ Skills Distributed! ]
[ Now each ally of yours has a Skill! ]
The notification rang out, and all the prisoners looked at their hands like they just downloaded powers from a shady website.
Murmurs spread around like STD rumors in a hostel.
Sexis and Erect both looked at . I smiled. They smiled back like idiots about to get scamd.
'Show which skill you gave .'
[ You got Horny Eyes. ]
I already hated it.
[ Horny Eyes: You can see through walls. You can see what's behind any wall. Also, before your hormones run wild and you try it on bathrooms, you can also see through people. If you try to peek at a woman under her baggy clothes, you'll only see a skeleton. Not a mommy figure. ]
Great. A power that makes horny and clinically depressed.
At least it's useful… kinda.
Of course, I am sad about the skeleton part but it seems the system doesn't know that I once tried to sleep with a skeleton.
[ I know that. But you won't have the guts to sleep with a skeleton that moves. ]
Fair point. Smart move, system.
'Anyway, how will these people know their skills? They don't have systems like and Sexis.'
[ Their minds know. Don't worry. Also, from now on, I'll give you three quests daily, if the situation changes otherwise. Complete them to grow stronger. Fail them, and you might french kiss your death like japanese lesbians. You'll get skills, distribute them or keep them for yourself, evolve, beco overpowered, and destroy Malthus. ]
I didn't really have a say in this so I guess…
'Fine. My grandma needs . I'm in.'
The system went quiet, like a boss who's satisfied after traumatizing an intern.
All the prisoners suddenly looked at with starry eyes as if I was a girl who liked thirty year old virgins. Then—
THUP!
They all kneeled.
"What the hell is this?" I asked. "You all got free skills and now you're simping?"
"Your system is magical! You are a piece of God, lord hero!"
Of course. Free loot and instant worship. Humans are predictable. As predictable as an accident of a woman who decided to drive.
"Alright, here's the deal. Train. Grow stronger. Beat Malthus' soldiers. I will deal with Malthus. The main bastard's mine."
"As you say, lord hero!" they all shouted like a cult of enthusiastic idiots.
I turned to Sexis. "How big is your basent?"
He thought, then shrugged.
"I can manage two n at one ti."
I froze.
Only two n? Bro, even broom closets host more people. Unless…
"Which basent are you talking about?" I asked carefully with a gulp.
Sexis smirked like a man who's seen things that make priests retire.
"My basent, of course. I can handle two n with ease. Test whenever you want."
…
Yep.
We're screwed against Malthus.
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