Boing~ Boing~ Boobas!!

"He looks like he's retarded. Let's leave him and get back to our mission. I just wanna smash some heads together."

Alex blinked.

Then slowly turned his head—

And oh sweet tomboy aggression, what do we have here?

A tan-skinned warrior babe, standing there with the energy of a woman who bench-pressed her way out of the womb.

Leather shorts. Boots that looked like they'd kicked at least three dragons in the face. A leather vest that had seen some shit. And a spear—because of course, she had a spear.

Her lean but toned muscles flexed just enough to make it clear that she could probably snap a lesser man's spine with a headlock—a fact that only made Alex's primal monkey brain light up like a Christmas tree.

But the worst part?

She wasn't even looking at him.

Like he wasn't even worth looking at.

She just stood there, impatiently tapping her boot on the ground, sassily inspecting her nails, exuding the pure, unfiltered aura of a woman who had no time for dumbasses.

Alex had never wanted to be acknowledged so badly in his entire life.

A smirk threatened to crawl onto Alex's lips like a pervy cockroach, but he wrestled it back down. Not yet. He had to assess the battlefield.

"Should we help him, or should we continue with our journey? Whatever Alric decides, I support him."

Another woman's voice—silky, sweet, the kind of voice that could convince a man to donate his entire life savings and still thank her for the privilege.

Alex whipped his head around so fast, his neck almost filed for workers' comp.

And there she was.

Standing beside a smug-looking boy, she was decked out in full leather armor, black pants, a tight-fitting shirt, boots that looked ready to stomp a simp into submission, and—most importantly—two short swords hanging from her hips like she was ready to dual-wield her way into some poor bastard's nightmares.

Her face was sculpted like a Greek tragedy, with a button nose, deep blue eyes, and plum lips—the kind of lips that belonged on a noble lady or a villainess who specialized in making men regret their life choices.

Since her armor was tighter than an overfilled sausage casing, her assets were hidden from prying eyes, but Alex was an experienced degenerate.

His refined, battle-hardened instincts immediately placed her in the "Medium is Premium" category—a glorious middle ground that combined elegance with just the right amount of bounce physics.

"Thank you, Charlotte."

The golden boy beside her smiled, his teeth so white and straight they could be used in a Colgate commercial.

It was painfully clear that these two were exchanging the kind of glances that screamed "we have unresolved sexual tension but will absolutely ignore it for at least 30 episodes."

Alex squinted. Analyzing... Analyzing...

'He must be a wannabe hero, huh?'

Why? Because Alric was disgustingly handsome.

The walking protagonist package.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, a chiseled jawline that could cut through diamond, and the posture of a man who had never known the cold embrace of loneliness.

Alex had seen this trope before.

And it only meant one thing—

He was about to be severely outclassed in every possible way.

'Tsk tsk, I bet you'll end up with a harem of 10,000 girls by the end of your journey, you smug bastard. Hero. Hmph!'

Alex clicked his tongue and sneered at the walking protagonist package before him.

Jealous? Him? Pfft. No way. Absolutely not.

It wasn't like he wasn't handsome himself. Really, guys, trust him on this, alright?

He had the jawline of a semi-attractive anime side character, the muscles of a man who had at least thought about working out (we are not talking about his right, okay), and the confidence of a delusional shut-in who believed women were just too intimidated to talk to him.

[Time remaining: 2 minutes]

'Wait, what?!'

A blue screen popped up in his vision like a scam ad on a sketchy website, and Alex's eyes widened in horror.

'There was a time limit for this?! You stupid system, you didn't tell me that before!!!'

He was furious—betrayed on a spiritual level. Nowhere in the fine print had it mentioned anything about a goddamn countdown!

[Host was too busy admiring the voluptuous flesh mounds of that woman to notice.]

'YOU!!!'

If the system had a face, Alex would have slapped it so hard it would've entered a forced shutdown.

His right hand twitched, his fist aching to punch a hole straight through the floating text box—but no.

He needed the system.

Desperately. Without it, he was just another random background character waiting to be slaughtered in some goblin raid.

This was his second chance.

A divine do-over from the gods themselves.

And he wasn't about to waste it.

Not until he had power.

Not until he could rise above the weaklings.

Not until he could finally, at long last, pound a naughty grandma into oblivion.

He needed power for that.

'Alright. Time to get to work.'

With a dramatic nod, Alex slowly pushed himself off the ground, grunting like a low-budget action hero in the middle of a comeback scene.

He wasn't pretending to be hurt—he was.

His body felt as drained as a hentai protagonist after a 50-episode marathon, his muscles were so weak they might as well be sponsored by wet noodles, and his stomach? Louder than a Karen at a customer service desk.

Seeing him struggle like a baby deer who just got drop-kicked by life itself, the Blessed Lady of the Holy Booba reached out and gently helped him sit up.

He shook his head weakly, like a tragic hero in an Oscar-worthy performance.

"Are you okay?"

Her angelic voice rang in his ears, and Alex knew this was his moment.

Now was the time to unleash his ultimate technique—THE VICTIM PLAY.

With the precision of an award-winning soap opera actor, he clutched his head, his fingers dramatically pressing into his scalp as if he were about to reveal a tragic backstory.

Then, he looked into her golden eyes.

And summoned the ultimate weapon.

Watery. Puppy. Eyes.

"Oh my?"

The woman clasped her mouth, her eyes shining with motherly concern.

Perfect. It was working.

"I-I can't—GRRRR!!"

And with all the grace of a possessed washing machine, Alex shook his head like he was experiencing an exorcism in real-time before—THUMP!

He collapsed.

Forward.

Directly onto his destined target.

Straight into the Promised Land.

The Heavenly Pillows of Salvation.

The Twin Towers of Eternal Bliss.

The BOOBA.

His face sank in—then bounced back.

Then sank in again—only to bounce back once more.

Boing~ Boing~

Alex's soul left his body.

He had ascended.

"Haa—IT'S TOO PAINFUL! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!!!"

He wailed like a sinner in church, his head rocking forward and backward, left to right, in a sacred ritual known only to the true scholars of degeneracy.

Motorboat Mode: ENGAGED.

[Ding! Ding! Ding!]

[Congratulations on completing the quest!]

[Full system activating!]

[Estimated time remaining: 1 hour]