Chapter 8: Chapter 8
I stared at it, blinking. "Huh," I muttered. "Three kiloters? I can do that. Easy XP."
The bus rattled on, but I couldn’t sit still anymore. The thought of EXP buzzing in the back of my head, Jasmine’s moans still echoing in my ears—I needed air. Movent. Sothing. And lucky enough, the gas station was nearly 3 km away. Win-win for .
When the bus hit the fourth stop, I pushed myself up and stepped off into the morning chaos. The air was thick with exhaust, the sidewalks buzzing with the usual grimy rush of the city. I pulled out my phone and dialed Richard.
"Yo, Rich. I’ll be, uh, well, I’ll be about ten minutes late," I said.
On the other end, he groaned. "Maan... you owe
ten bucks for covering you."
I smirked, letting the corner of my lip curl. "Make it fifteen." Then I hung up before he could answer.
Tucking my phone away, I adjusted my bag and started toward the gas station. The city lood around —loud, restless—like it never wanted to let anyone breathe.
I kept my pace steady, letting the city swallow
up as I walked. Every car horn, every barking street vendor, every pair of heels clicking by—it all blurred together, because my head was sowhere else entirely.
The system.
I couldn’t get it out of my mind. The way those little pop-ups appeared right in front of my eyes, crisp letters hanging in the air like so kind of videoga overlay.
And the bottle. Shit. I still rembered how it had appeared in my hand last night—like it just blinked into existence. One second, I was staring at the confirmation screen. The next, cool glass was pressing against my palm, like the universe had just... handed it to . Magic. Real fucking magic, in my hand.
And Jasmine. God. Jasmine. The way she’d lted under my touch, her voice breaking when I pressed harder, her legs parting just for . The oil had worked, sure, but even thinking about it now I couldn’t help but wonder—would she have let
touch her like that without it? Would she have begged
to keep going?
I exhaled through my nose, dragging my hand over my face. Either way, the system was helping . Not just with Jasmine, but in general. I’d helped an old man with grocery bags like it was nothing. Small things, yeah. But they were adding up.
’This thing’s changing ,’ I thought. ’Piece by piece.’
I blinked, realizing the squat red-and-white awning of the gas station had already co into view. Damn. I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t even realized I was this close.
A soft chi pulled my eyes upward.
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Daily Task
Run/Walk 3 km
Progress: 2 / 3
Reward: 15 XP
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"Only two?" I muttered. My legs had carried
almost the whole way here without
realizing, and I was still short. I glanced down the street, spotting the other bus station a couple of blocks further ahead. Easy enough. After shift, I could swing that way, finish the last kiloter, and cash in the XP.
For now, though, work.
I tugged the glass door open and stepped inside. The familiar hum of the coolers greeted , mixed with the faint scent of burnt coffee that never seed to leave this place. Richard was behind the counter, leaned back on a stool with his phone in hand. He looked up as I walked in, squinting.
"You’re late."
I tossed him a look as I slid behind the counter. "Yeah, I told you I’d be late."
"I wanna see that fifteen bucks in my bank account until tonight, ya lazy bastard." He said as he left.
I ignored that, tapping my card into the punch clock by the register. The little beep confird I was on shift, and I set my bag down with a sigh.
Another day. Another grind.
The hours slid by in a blur of scanning groceries and handing out change. Normally, no one looked twice at the cashier stuck behind the counter. But today felt... different.
A couple of won glanced my way while I worked—one tapping her nails against the counter as she ordered cigarettes, another brushing her hair back slow while I handed over a receipt. Their eyes lingered just a fraction longer than I was used to.
I wasn’t fooling myself—I knew what I looked like. Not ugly, not so model either. Just... average. An average guy with ssy hair and a tired face. But the way those won’s eyes tracked
made my stomach twist.
’Charm points,’ I thought. ’It’s gotta be the Charm points.’
Still, I couldn’t tell for sure. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I just wanted to believe it.
The bell over the door jingled.
I looked up—and nearly lost my breath.
Jasmine.
She walked in with two friends, her presence imdiately sucking the air out of the room. A white crop top hugged her chest so tightly it looked painted on, a pink skirt cutting off high at her thighs. Her strappy heels clicked against the tile with each step, her dark hair swaying around her bare shoulders.
Her friends weren’t far behind. One rocked a short, skin-tight red dress that plunged down the front, cleavage on full display. The other had on frayed denim shorts that barely covered anything and a glittery silver top that flashed more skin than fabric.
The three of them looked like they’d just stepped out of so music video—loud, hot, dangerous.
Jasmine’s eyes locked onto mine as she approached the counter. Her lips tugged into a teasing smirk.
"Well, well," she purred. "My favorite masseur."
I blinked, my brain short-circuiting. "Oh, uh—what are you doing here?"
"Hanging with my girls." She tossed a chocolate bar onto the counter. "Needed a treat so we took a break."
One of her friends leaned closer to the other, not even bothering to whisper. "This is him, right? The one who made you cum, like, five tis with just his fingers?"
Blood rushed straight to my face. My ears went hot, my throat locked up.
"Shut up!" Jasmine swatted at her friend’s arm, laughing but clearly flustered herself. "Don’t say that here. People will hear."
I scanned the chocolate with hands that suddenly didn’t feel steady, eyes fixed on the little glowing numbers of the register so I wouldn’t have to et theirs.
"That’s... one twenty," I muttered.
Jasmine slid a couple of coins over, still smirking as if she knew exactly what she was doing to . She picked up her chocolate, winked, and turned toward the door.
Her skirt flipped just enough to show the soft curve of her ass as she walked out, her friends giggling beside her. The bell jingled again, leaving
alone in the quiet.
I exhaled sharply, realizing only then how hard my pulse was pounding.
’Charm points or not,’ I thought, rubbing a clammy hand over my face, ’I am so fucking screwed.’
—
The rest of the day dragged by in its usual haze of boredom and small talk. When my shift finally ended, I slung my bag over my shoulder and decided not to head for the closest bus stop. Instead, I walked the extra two blocks to the farther station just like I planned for the quest to be completed, letting my steps chew through the distance.
By the ti I got there, sweat clung to my shirt... but it was worth it.
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Daily Task Completed!
Reward: Choose one chest:
[?] [?] [?]
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I rubbed my chin. "Last ti I went middle..." I muttered, staring at the floating chests lined up before
like so old RPG screen.
I pressed the right chest and waited.
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Reward:
1 Ability Point
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I grinned. "Alright. Handy."
Without hesitation, I pulled up my stats.
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Current Stats:
Strength: 2
Charm: 3
Libido: 1
Pleasure: 1
You have 1 point to distribute.
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I tapped Libido. The number blinked, then shifted.
"Goodbye, pre-ejaculation," I muttered, smirking as I confird.
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Current Stats:
Strength: 2
Charm: 3
Libido: 2
Pleasure: 1
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The bus groaned up to the curb just in ti, headlights cutting through the fading dusk. I stepped on, swiped my card, and slid into an empty seat near the back.
As the city rolled by in streaks of neon and shadow, only one thought burned in my head.
Massage session with Jasmine.
—
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