CHAPTER 8: CHAPTER 8

I stared at it, blinking. "Huh," I muttered. "Three kilometers? 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. Movement. Something. And lucky enough, the gas station was nearly 3 km away. Win-win for me.

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 me 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 loomed around me—loud, restless—like it never wanted to let anyone breathe.

I kept my pace steady, letting the city swallow me 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 somewhere 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 some kind of videogame overlay.

And the bottle. Shit. I still remembered 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 me. Magic. Real fucking magic, in my hand.

And Jasmine. God. Jasmine. The way she’d melted under my touch, her voice breaking when I pressed harder, her legs parting just for me. The oil had worked, sure, but even thinking about it now I couldn’t help but wonder—would she have let me touch her like that without it? Would she have begged me to keep going?

I exhaled through my nose, dragging my hand over my face. Either way, the system was helping me. 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 me,’ I thought. ’Piece by piece.’

I blinked, realizing the squat red-and-white awning of the gas station had already come into view. Damn. I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t even realized I was this close.

A soft chime 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 me almost the whole way here without me 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 kilometer, 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 me, mixed with the faint scent of burnt coffee that never seemed 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 confirmed 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 women 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 some model either. Just... average. An average guy with messy hair and a tired face. But the way those women’s eyes tracked me 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 immediately 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 some 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 times 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 meet 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 me. 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 me 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 time 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 time I went middle..." I muttered, staring at the floating chests lined up before me like some 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 confirmed.

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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 time, 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.

—