"Ow. Ow! Ouch. Ugh. Oof! God. Damn. Mother. Fucker. Stop! This. Please. Oh. Shiiiiiit~"

The tube hit several hard angles, slamming me into corner after corner like a poorly designed slip and slide. When I could no longer feel my face, my ride straightened out, propelling me to ludicrous speeds.

I couldn't even be mad because I was the one who designed it.

A small ominous light twinkled at the end of the tunnel, signifying the end of the line.

I slid out, bouncing across a dark water, each hop sending my body tumbling like a bean bag. Eventually, physics took hold, and I slowed to a stop, sinking slightly into the strange liquid. It was shallow at this point, but the fume immediately assaulted my nostrils.

"Dear Satan. *Cough* Is everything thing here flammable?"

I was ankle-deep in a wading pool of 100-proof alcohol.

"If only I had another bottle. Or several."

A notification distracted me from my thoughts.

[*Redacted* Sponsor would like to purchase shares. Will you sell your shares?]

This slimy weasel!

I knew this guy was trouble the moment I got discovered. He hasn't given me anything yet, but he already wants to purchase shares! Those are pieces of my soul; no thank you!

Any particularly wealthy sponsor could purchase shares of contestants' souls. That this *Redacted* sponsor was wealthy enough to do so was the third red flag. Sure, I'd receive a game-breaking ability or tool from giving away pieces of my soul, but as the author, I knew better.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"No thank you. I just wanted a bottle."

[*Redacted Sponsor has sent you a gift.]

A sizeable thermos winked into existence. It hovered before me like a grand artifact. Noticeably surprised, I murmured a begrudging thank you and filled it quickly before it was taken away.

[*Redacted* Sponsor would like to gift you power in exchange for shares.]

"Thanks for the thermos, but unless it's magical regeneration, I have to decline. I don't want to sell my soul."

[*Redacted* Sponsor promises it is worth it.]

"Even if you pinky promise. I can't trust someone who just killed nearly everyone on earth for fun.

[*Redacted* Sponsor is offended. You have been cursed.]

What!? This bastard.

[Your trait Copy has been transformed into Cursed Copy.]

"Blackmail! Even if you curse me, I won't give you any shares."

[*Redacted Sponsor will remember this.]

"That's my line you slimy fuck!"

I needed to rub the creases out of my forehead. Cursed! In my first minute of starting the game! My luck was terrible. I didn't even get a chance to see what my "Copy" trait was capable of before it was irrevocably transformed.

Strangely, as I was rubbing my forehead... the further I went up, the more it continued.

Scratching my head, I came to a terrifying realization. My hair was gone.

At first, I naively thought it would come back if I kept searching, but then I realized my hands were different too. They were larger, thicker, and meatier. So were my legs. Muscles rippled across my body, decorated with various tattoos of animals and tribal designs. There was a mermaid on my forearm and a tiger on my leg.

Looking at my reflection in the liquor pool, I whispered gravely.

"You didn't..."

[Character Sheet]

[Name: Zeke]

[Sponsors: M-2955, C210141, *Redacted*]

[Points: 10]

[Traits: Clear Mind, Cursed Copy, Compulsive Curser]

[Clear Mind: You are able to think objectively at all times, even when under the effects of mind-altering spells and curses.]

[Cursed Copy:

Effect 1: You are forced to take the appearance of the strongest contestant you've killed.

Effect 2: You gain a negative trait from whoever you are copying. This effect compounds.

Effect 3: Your appearance can only be changed by killing another contestant.]

[Compulsive Curser: You must curse every 100 words or suffer the consequences.]

...

...

...

"Fuck."