Steve's mysterious smile widened as he sat there, completely still.
For a mont, he didn't move—he only stared at the author's book on his lap as he gently rested his weight on his bed.
He paused, trying to reason with himself about what he would write first. His brows furrowed slightly, his lips twitching in amusent. He pondered.
'Hmm... what should I even write here?' he thought. His fingers brushed along the edge of the quill, the feel of it grounding him.
He stayed like that for so seconds, unmoving, breathing quietly. Then, finally, his eyes flickered downward with intent.
'Yes.' he thought, a gleam rising in his eyes.
'That's exactly what I should write.'
He stretched out his hand and picked up the quill, the feather brushing lightly against his cheek as he turned and opened the book.
'All I have to do...' he thought, licking his lips with a chuckle,
'...is make sure that I write the story following what's currently happening in my world. It just can't directly conflict with the story's plot, right?'
His hand steadied over the page.
He began to write:
[Still sprawled on his bed, Steve suddenly found himself under siege—not by a monster—but by a busty MILF with hips that swung like they had their own gravitational pull, and her only intentions- the night of her life!]
Steve bit his lower lip softly, his face scrunching with silent laughter.
'Pfft... this is just a test drive.' he thought.
'But hell, what a way to start.'
He added in a bit about foodstuff, just to see if it would register—then paused, his lips pressed into a grin.
'Okay.' he thought, watching the ink dry.
'I wrote 'imdiately,' so this should happen right now, yeah? The effects should hit right away.'
He leaned back against his pillow, a spark of mischief in his eyes.
'This doesn't conflict with the plot, right? I an... the plot is harem. A random sexy stranger offering the ride of a lifeti shouldn't contradict that, right?'
He adjusted his position, lying back with a smirk as he waited for the door to burst open and the voluptuous MILF to barge in.
Instead-
[Ding!]
A system notification rang along as it displayed the text floating afront of him.
[ Error. Description contrasts with plot. Please try again.]
"Huh?" Steve muttered, sitting upright.
His eyes narrowed at the hovering text.
"The hell is this? I didn't even write anything special. All I did was sex. So why is it getting blocked like it doesn't see the result?"
He stared hard at the ssage.
"Wait... It doesn't even say what exactly I wrote wrong. Like what exactly did it contrast with in the plot? What the hell is it?"
Just then, another notification popped up, right as if it had heard him.
[ASSISTANT NOTIFICATION:
Demo (How to Use)
"Player, while exiting his ho, discovers a horse without a rider feeding on the nearby grassland. After taming it, he claims it."]
[SYSTEM: This provides more details to be used in crafting the scenario.]
Steve blinked. He frowned at first, but then realization hit him hard.
"Oh... damn." he muttered.
"Of course. That makes sense."
He exhaled slowly.
"The command didn't get accepted because... one, the character had no na or description, what so ever. And two, there was no reason—no logical scenario—for a MILF to just break into my ho and fuck . I didn't set anything up right. I just dropped a sex scene out of nowhere."
Steve sighed, shaking his head.
"Okay, well, that makes more sense now."
He flicked his eyes over to the book again.
"Let's give this another shot, shall we?"
His quill tapped the page, and he started again.
'Hmmmm....' He pondered montarily, until finally-
[Player, peeking under his bed, finds a bag filled with... chicken parts.]
Upon writing this, a wicked smile spread on his face.
[The chicken is a fantasy creature. When eaten, all who consu it beco susceptible to player's control.]
he added, grinning as the idea thrilled him.
'Oh yeah... if this works, I'm definitely getting hang of it.'
Still, a part of him doubted. It was a gamble, after all.
But then—
[ Ding!]
[SYSTEM: Task completed.]
He froze.
A chill ran through his spine. His fingers trembled slightly, heart pounding in his chest.
He stared at the text, unable to believe it.
"No way... it actually worked?"
His legs moved before he could think, rushing to the edge of the bed.
He crouched down and looked beneath.
There—just like he had written—a sack sat there, nestled between old wrappers and books.
He reached out and grabbed it.
The sack was light, soft.
He opened it—and inside... raw chicken parts. Juicy, pink, and exactly how he described them.
He smiled wide.
'I can't believe it.' he thought, eyes glistening with excitent.
'It actually worked.. it actually created the fantasy chicken...it seed kinda far fetched at first...but it actually worked.'
Hope burned bright in his chest. He could've stayed there, just marveling at the miracle.
But he knew this wasn't over.
He bolted from the room, the sack clenched in his grip.
His feet pounded on the floorboards as he made his way to the kitchen.
"Ma! Ma!" he called, breath ragged, only to find her already inside.
She stood near the firewood stove, stirring a pot as smoke danced in the air. She looked over her shoulder at him.
Her soft smile t his eyes.
"Oh, Steven, what's wrong?"
He was panting, but paused. A smile broke across his lips as he raised the sack.
"I forgot to tell you." he said, his voice lifting,
"I got a really good catch while I was out."
His eyes sparkled, and for a second, the room felt different. Sothing had just begun.
His first step.
***
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