The Day I Peed Standing Up and Mentally Came from a Bank Statement

Chapter 4:

Riven woke up again. She'd passed out after seeing herself naked and sinful and winking in the mirror like it was a doujinshi cover shoot.

Now the sun peeked through blackout curtains that cost more than her old apartment lease.

She sat up slowly, the sheets still clinging to the sex-written curves of her new body like lovers refusing to part.

Her brain whispered:

"You're an omega."

"A male one."

"With nipples pierced, a choker hiding glands, tattoo down your spine, and thighs made for sin."

Her eyes fluttered open.

Today's mission: Science.

Operation: Pee Like a ManShe tiptoed to the bathroom, muttering like a feral researcher in heat:

"I've drawn it. I've written it. I've even animated it. But I've never... used one."

The bathroom? Marble. Gold fixtures. Smart bidet. Mood lighting.

A urinal. A fking urinal.**

(Why?! Why was that sexy?! It was just standing on a wall... ready... willing... steady... oh god—)

She chose the toilet.

Standing in front of it like a samurai about to duel.

"Focus. Aim. Believe in the stream."

She succeeded.

But in her triumph, she knocked a bottle of expensive hair oil off the sink with a proud hip sway.

"I am unstoppable," she whispered, looking at herself in the mirror with the same pride ancient warriors must've had after killing a god.

Breakfast and the AI With RizzShe strolled into the sun-drenched kitchen like the final boss of a BL game.

And then the walls spoke.

"Good morning, Riven," the AI purred. Purred.

"You look... desirable today. Shall I prepare peach nectar and... protein?"

Riven froze.

"Why do you sound like my favorite seme voice actor?"

"Because you programmed me to."

"...Oh my god, I made my smart house into a dom."

BL in This World: Disappointment, Volume 1She sat at the bar, sipping a stupidly expensive imported mango coffee, and decided to explore the tablet lying nearby. It was pre-loaded with e-books.

BL.

She opened the top-rated novel: "Alpha's Sweet Omega."

Two pages in she was clutching her face.

"He sniffed his neck gently and said 'I'll cherish you forever.'"

She slammed the tablet face down like it insulted her ancestors.

"Where's the biting? Where's the betrayal? Where's the emotional throat punches followed by choking with affection and ropes that were never consensually discussed?!"

"This is too... too normal. I need trauma. Distress. Fluid exchange with no warning."

Mental Note:

"If I die again, I'm not going to heaven. So I better leave a legacy the devil respects."

She pulled out a pen and her blank journal.

The cover? Leather.

Embossed: "R. A. Sin Archives."

Journal Entry #1:

"This body is art. I am the paintbrush. My OTPs are the canvas. And I will draw until I cry or die—whichever comes first."

"Also: My d**k is spectacular."

The Peek into Assets (and Accidental Orgasm)Still glowing with coffee, ego, and chaotic inspiration, she cracked into the tablet's main system.

It required a thumbprint.

She licked her thumb dramatically before pressing.

"Author-style entry."

A screen popped up:

Riven Sael, 19 — Omega, Independent.

No parents listed.

No siblings.

Primary inheritance: $73.9 billion credits

Private trust: untraceable offshore investments

Penthouse: owned

Car: black beast of a hover sedan with tinted windows and seat warmers that vibrate

Security: Armed AI and private alpha deterrents (taser drones)

Medical record: excellent except for "unusual gland stimulation reactions" (author kink)

She stared.

Her legs clenched on instinct.

Her mouth fell open.

A soft whimper escaped.

"I just... mentally came from a balance sheet."

She wiped a tear.

"This isn't just transmigration. This is divine retribution for every doujinshi I illegally downloaded."

And now...

She leaned back, journal on her lap, eyes gleaming.

The world hadn't even started yet.

The alphas were still somewhere—existing, sweating, probably stretching shirtless on campus fields like yaoi setups waiting to pounce.

But she had 30 days.

And oh, she was going to live filthily.

"Valen. Calume. You better be ready. Your stalker has risen... and she draws full-color panels."