VI

The cool evening breeze brushed against our faces as we strolled hand in hand through the park. The gentle hum of city life faded into the background, replaced by the noise of honking cars and the rustling of leaves overhead. Jasmine squeezed my hand lightly, her playful grin tugging at my attention.

“For a date, this is rather tame. What happened to you, Mr. Stone?” she teased, her voice laced with mock disappointment.

I chuckled. “Oh, don’t be like that. Not every date has to be extravagant, you know.”

Truthfully, I enjoyed these quiet moments. There was something grounding about strolling through the park, watching the world go by at its own leisurely pace. It was a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the office, the relentless grind of Charlie’s routine.

But even as I tried to relax, I felt the pull of the SYSTEM.

It was a constant hum in the back of my mind, like a second heartbeat. The interface lingered in my vision, subtle but persistent, and I couldn’t stop myself from tinkering with it.

SKILLS (Points: 5):

Fake-Out (Level 3)

Appraisal (Level 2)

I still had no idea how it all worked, but I’d come to trust my instincts. Somehow, I felt like I could toggle my points at will, reallocating them as needed. And so, I did.

I focused on [Appraisal], willing it to rise.

SKILLS (Points: 0):

Fake-Out (Level 3)

Appraisal (Level 7)

The shift was immediate. A subtle but powerful awareness surged through me, as though the world had come into sharper focus. Colors seemed brighter, details more vivid. I turned to Jasmine, and for the first time, I saw her clearly—not just her surface, but the layers beneath.

Her flushed cheeks. The faint lines of worry she tried to hide. The warmth in her eyes that was tinged with just a hint of fear.

“Is there a problem, Charlie?” she asked, her voice tinged with nervous laughter. “You’re staring so much you’re making me blush.”

“Nothing,” I lied, forcing a smile.

I grabbed her wrist gently, pulling her closer as we continued our walk. Jasmine’s laughter returned, light and carefree, and I tried to focus on the moment.

We wandered through familiar landmarks in Amway City, visiting spots that had become staples of our dates. A street vendor caught Jasmine’s eye, and soon we were sampling skewers of grilled meat and fried vegetables, laughing as we dared each other to try the spiciest options.

By the time we reached a small bench overlooking the city lights, we were a pair of idiots, stuffed with street food and dizzy from laughter.

Jasmine leaned her head on my shoulder, her voice soft. “I like this version of you, Charlie. The one who doesn’t feel like he has to impress anyone. Just… you.”

Her words hit harder than I expected, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Because this wasn’t me.

The guilt crept in, but I pushed it away, holding her hand a little tighter.

For now, I decided, I’d let myself enjoy this life. Even if it wasn’t truly mine.

The city lights danced on the river's surface, shimmering and refracting as Jasmine and I strolled hand in hand under the bridge. We’d spent the evening indulging in the kind of carefree fun that felt almost too good to be real—street food, laughter, and stolen moments that reminded me of what life could be like without shadows looming over it.

But tonight wasn’t just about fun. I had a purpose.

The memory of my so-called “awakening” lingered in the back of my mind, gnawing at my thoughts. I remembered vividly the day I gained the [Appraisal] skill, the sudden, inexplicable surge of knowledge that changed everything. I’d been led to believe it was natural, an awakening meant for me. But now, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that it had all been orchestrated. A lie.

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Jasmine broke my train of thought. “You’re staring at me too much, Charlie…” Her voice wavered slightly, her usual confidence faltering. “Are you going to abandon me?”

I felt my heart twist. “Never,” I said firmly.

The neon signs above cast a faint glow around us, painting her face in hues of pink and blue. I held her face gently in my hands, leaning in to kiss her. She responded immediately, her lips soft and warm against mine, her fingers clutching my shirt like she was afraid I might vanish.

Jasmine pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. “Such a boring answer. What if I’m damaged goods? We started off in a one-night stand, you know? You called me out of the blue in the middle of the night. Maybe you’ll just throw me away, like some… like some convenience.” Her voice broke, but she forced a weak smile. “Even if you do, I guess I’ll still be happy with the memories.”

I held her shoulders, steadying her. “Never,” I repeated, my voice firm, my heart heavy.

She looked at me with so much trust, so much hope, that it nearly broke me. And then, before I could talk myself out of it, I activated my Level 7 [Appraisal].

The SYSTEM interface materialized before me.

Player: Jasmine Brandt

Level: 2

Health: 100%

Power: 100%

STATS (Points: 0):

Willpower: 1

Freedom: 1

Fortitude: 1

Empathy: 2

SKILLS (Points: 0):

Sex Slave (Level 2)

My breath caught in my throat. Tears welled in my eyes, unbidden and uncontrollable.

“Charlie?” Jasmine’s voice was soft, uncertain. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

I forced a smile, even as my chest ached and my stomach churned. “They’re… tears of joy.”

She smiled, brushing away a tear from my cheek. “You’re so strange sometimes.”

I hugged her tightly, burying my face in her shoulder to hide the truth—the horror and disgust roiling inside me.

The real Charlie had done this to her. That much I was certain of now. Jasmine’s vibrant spirit, her warmth, her devotion… they weren’t entirely her own. She didn’t even know. The SYSTEM that controlled her life, her thoughts, her desires—it wasn’t accessible to her. If she could see it, would she lose her spark? Would she hate herself?

The word Kristof had used echoed in my mind.

Cattle.

More tears poured down my face as I clung to Jasmine.

“There, there,” she whispered, stroking my hair gently. “Everything will be fine.”

But I wasn’t so sure anymore.

The motel room was dim, the only light filtering in from the flickering neon sign outside. Jasmine lay curled beside me, her breathing steady and warm against my chest. We’d been lost in each other for hours, tangled in passion and momentary escape from a world neither of us truly understood.

But I couldn’t sleep.

Carefully, I slipped out of bed, taking Charlie’s smartphone—my smartphone—off the nightstand. I scrolled through the data I’d painstakingly compiled over the past weeks, piecing together scraps of information that painted an increasingly grim picture.

The SYSTEM, a mysterious force governing this world, wasn’t just a tool. It was a weapon. A method of control. Knowledge about SKILLs and SKILL BOOKs was guarded zealously by the elites, doled out sparingly to maintain their power. The mere existence of SKILLs like Sex Slave turned my stomach, but that was only scratching the surface. There were countless ways to manipulate non-system users—or NPCs, as the elites seemed to call them.

I clenched my fist, bile rising in my throat. The knowledge I’d uncovered wasn’t just conspiracy theory material. It was real. It was sickening. And it was being used to maintain a stranglehold on people like Jasmine. People like me.

Jasmine stirred beside me, her voice soft and groggy. “Is everything fine, Charlie? Do you want me to… take care of your fatigue?”

She crawled closer, her hand reaching for my lap, her expression laced with concern and desire.

I managed a smile, though it felt hollow. “Everything will be fi—”

Her face exploded.

A spray of blood and gore painted the walls, the sheets, and me. Her lifeless body slumped forward, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe.

A shadow loomed through the gaping hole in the door. Slowly, the figure stepped into the room.

It was the Cleaner.

Dressed in the familiar janitor’s uniform from Works Amway, he held a shotgun in one hand and a crumpled doorknob in another. He wasn’t just here to clean.

“Charlie,” he said, his voice cold and disdainful, “you have responsibilities.”

I stared at him, still frozen, my mind trying and failing to process what had just happened.

The Cleaner continued, his tone clipped and authoritative. “Your father has allowed you to indulge your time with your pet for long enough. This will probably be the last time you can engage in such open debauchery. As someone who carries Lord Kristof’s dtaa, this is unbecoming. It’s been nearly a month.”

His words were like knives, cutting through the fog in my head.

“She wasn’t a pet,” I said through gritted teeth, my voice trembling with a mix of rage and despair. “Her name was Jas—”

The slap came so fast I didn’t see it coming. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood as it trickled from my mouth and nose.

The Cleaner loomed over me, his expression unyielding. “I am a higher level than you, young master. Get your shit together.”

I clenched my fists, barely restraining the fury boiling inside me. My gaze shifted to Jasmine’s headless body, lying limply on the blood-soaked bed. The warmth and happiness I’d found in her were gone, replaced by a cold, dreadful sensation that spread through me like poison.

Hatred.

Pure, wicked, seething hatred surged through me. It clawed at my chest, burned behind my eyes, and threatened to consume what little remained of my sanity.

The Cleaner turned his back to me, his voice calm yet commanding. “Prepare yourself. Your time playing house is over. Your responsibilities to your bloodline await.”

I stared at Jasmine’s body, my heart pounding, my thoughts spiraling into a vortex of anger and despair.

This world was sick.

And I was drowning in it.