If Chaz Dickson knew one thing, it was that life was a stone-cold bitch just waiting to fuck you in the ass. Everything you had was up for grabs unless you took from her first. He’d been taught that little truth since he was a gap-toothed little shit just learning to crawl.
You get a bad roll of the dice? Sucks to be you.
Shitty parents? Check. Poor as dirt? Check. A dearth of good role models? Double check.
Chaz could cry about it, or he could focus on the things that he could control: his body, his mind, and his will.
The TV screen had more or less raised him. Probably a good thing in retrospect. You might run into a lot of shit channel surfing, but some of that shit was pretty damn good. Hell, those "dumb cartoons" that his dad hated so much had taught him to be a man.
Protect what you care about, work your ass off, and never give up, no matter what the odds may tell you.
Yeah dude, Chaz thought it was pretty damn cheesy too. But if it worked, it worked. Plus anime titties blew little Chaz's impressionable mind back then.
It taught him to live his life as best as he could. Every single day was spent answering a single question: "How can I be better than I was yesterday?"
He worked out. Chaz ate right (most of the time). His body was his temple, just one that occasionally played host to coke and weed every now and then. He studied – sure, maybe it meant he was a fucking nerd, but he'd rather be a fucking nerd with a badass job living out his Wolf of Wall Street fantasies than stuck in his miserable hometown for the rest of his life.
But you know what? The results spoke for themselves.
Chaz had escaped.
He'd been accepted to a university to study pre-law several years ago. His objectives were simple: get the piece of paper, be admitted into a good law school, go piss on dear old dad's grave, then he was set for life.
Who gave a damn where he went next? His eyes were set on the scummiest firms that shit out money like a fuckin’ pez dispenser, but he’d go to a goddamn panda sanctuary or some charity saving lemurs or some shit if they paid the big bucks.
All that mattered was that he got his. Everyone else got that sweet little start in life, so he was just making up for lost time. Take, take, take.
Hell, he was making up for lost time right now.
An ass that could have launched a thousand ships was perched enticingly in front of him. The only thing covering up the best bits was a floss-like black thong that still left plenty on display for him to admire. Chaz admired the round cheeks for a moment, fought back the urge to smack it, then leaned forward to snort a little line of white powder as hard as he could off the right cheek.
Chaz shuddered as it vanished up his nose and he shoved the rolled up dollar bill back into his pocket. He grinned and reclined back in his seat, all sprawled out as he left one hand on his friend’s bronze shoulder.
"I’ve always wanted to do that! Damn, I guess I can finally die happy."
Krystal (real name Clara, not that he'd ever use it while they were at the club) pushed herself off the couch with all the sketchy stains. God forbid anyone bring a black light in here. It’d light up like a bunch of ghosts just bukkaked the place. Right now the shitty couch was piled high with sheer panties, various themed outfits, a ton of black leather thigh highs, and everything else a stripper could ever need before her set.
It wasn’t where he’d imagined himself working to pay his way through college, but it paid the bills. He’d gotten a small wrestling scholarship for his first two years, but he’d left the team in his junior year and was left with just his academic scholarship.
Well, that and the scholarships he’d earned by tactically weaponizing his tragic backstory. Far be it from him to turn his nose up at free money.
Getting up close and personal with a bunch of sweaty dudes and some good study habits didn't pay the bills, though. He wasn't that good, but the training and his status as a high-functioning workout addict left him pretty fucking jacked. At least his shitty childhood diet hadn’t screwed him over in that department.
Thank God for dear old Dad's unholy love of gas station beef jerky. That protein was his one saving grace. The booze wasn't too bad either, even if he'd had to lay off that.
Naturally, he used those gifts to get a job as a bouncer at a strip club. Not glamorous, but it did put some cash in his pocket. Plenty of perks, too. T&A for days, plus everyone wanted to be the bouncer’s friend. The dancers were good people for the most part, but it left him with a bunch of greasy orbiters that all wanted to get in for free.
Chaz took everything he could from those fucking leeches. Normally that meant the fun drugs - none of that hard shit that would fuck you over the second you took it - and a stack of booze.
Krystal snorted. "That's your dream? Snorting coke off my ass? It hasn't even kicked in yet.” She shook her head and tutted at him. “Screw world peace. Fuck fixing global hunger. And helping the poor? That can go eat a dick too, at least if you ask Chaz Dickson! If you ever run for office you'll get cancelled faster than Bill fucking Cosby."
He checked out her ass again. "Worth it."
Krystal laughed as she did a big stretch that showed off every one of those wonderful curves. Not that she was trying to put on a show - Krystal was literally just getting comfortable - but he wasn't about to turn down a chance to check his friend out. She knew what he was. If she minded, he never would’ve been invited in here.
She adjusted her black thong and turned to one of the cheap vanities set up by the club. Krystal snatched up a brush to touch up her make-up before her set. "You're a douche."
"I'm gonna be a lawyer, baby. It's part of the contract."
An exaggerated sigh left her lips as she tugged on a slutty green-and-red elf outfit (jingle bells and pointed hat and all) and did a little spin. Who knew a strip club would be so into spreading the Christmas spirit? Not that he was complaining. Anything for a bit of break from the monotony of horned up dudes, shitty loud music, and way too many bodily fluids to be hygienic.
"At least you're an honest douche. How do I look?"
"The outfit's dumb as hell, but I'd smash." Chaz waggled his eyebrows and flexed his massive bicep. "Quickie before your dance?"
Krystal's eyes lit up like the lights on the garbage bin Christmas the club had dug out for the most wonderful time of the year. She clasped her hands together and rocked back and forth on her heels, a motion which did delightful things to her everything.
"Really? I thought you'd never ask! I've been so horny for you, baby. I can't wait to get these panties off, they’re so soaked..." Her voice was high and breathy, faker than his dad had once claimed the female orgasm to be (it wasn't, dear old dad just sucked at everything he did), and it still somehow got him raring to go.
Then the Christmas magic was gone. The dumb bliss etched all over her fine features faded into a wry smirk as she tossed her shoulder-length caramel hair over her shoulder and strutted over to the door. The DJ, Randy, was announcing her already, hyping up the slobbering crowd out by the stage for their next piece of eye candy.
No doubt she’d have a clip full of bills and be dragging some lucky bastard off for a private dance by the next time Chaz saw her.
"Aren’t elves supposed to give presents, not take them away? You could have just said no!" Chaz called as she offered him one last enticing wiggle of her hips in that jingle bell mini-skirt. It couldn’t even cover her up completely. "And let me know if that creep is back again!"
Krystal gave him a thumbs up, then turned around - the front was pretty damn nice too. One day, Chaz, one day.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Krystal smirked. Fingers with nails painted green-and-red traced down her cheek, brushed her neck, and grazed over her cleavage. Goddamn. “I know what you’re about. Want to touch? First, get tested. I don’t trust any dick that’s been in Angel. It’s probably about to rot off -”
“You should check for yourself. Put that nursing know-how to good use.”
“- Second, develop some moral fiber,” Krystal continued as if she hadn’t heard a word that he’d said. “Third, invite me somewhere outside a strip club. Then we’ll see.”
"...I just snorted coke off your ass! I think we’re way past ‘touching’."
She sniggered. "You know what? Fair point. Oh well, I've got to go! We'll finish this later."
Krystal offered one last wave before she went off to make some money. Gotta pay for that grad school somehow, right? Chaz would've made fun of her for being a goddamn stereotype, but he’d gotten to know her pretty well over the last year.
She’d get her payback in a hundred different ways. Krystal didn’t just hold a grudge, she had fun doing it.
Around a minute passed before he felt the urge to get up and move. Chaz had never been one for sitting around. Life was short. There was no point in wasting time. He was already getting that restless itch - it wasn’t even the coke this time.
Well, what to do now? He still had a few minutes on break before he'd have to head back to the front. Angel would be up soon (and wouldn't that be fun) but something just didn't feel right. His thoughts were a little slow, and some bullshit feeling like anxiety or something was starting to eat at him.
It would take another twenty minutes or so for the coke to kick in, but he hoped that it would come faster - he was feeling a little nauseous and way more fatigued than someone who just did a line of coke off a hot stripper's ass should.
Chaz staggered to his feet. Man, he really shouldn't have been drinking on the job earlier. This must be karma or some shit.
Things only went downhill from there. Time passed in a haze.
His breaths came short and fast. There was a wide, pounding ache that occasionally strayed into white-hot agony pounding down his shoulder. Chaz's ultra perfect 20/15 vision (yeah bro, he had it on record) began to blur as he stumbled toward the door.
Chaz’s chest ached horribly. It lanced all throughout his torso. He slipped.
When he tried to grab something for support, he gripped something hard and bendy in one of his huge fists - "Goddamnit Brandi! Stop leaving your fucking dildos laying around!" - and quickly let go. Chaz collapsed, the pain growing worse and worse by the minute, and primitive animal instinct roared in his head.
I'm having a fucking heart attack. What the fuck?
His vision darkened. Something clicked in his mind.
Chaz was going to die here - life had never given him shit, and now it was about to be ripped away from him by some biological fluke? By a stroke of bad luck and a little line of cocaine? He'd grinded his whole life! Fuck this shit.
If he was going out, he was going out his way. The Chaz way.
He gripped the wooden edges of the table, tried to shout for someone just in case but couldn't form the words, and dodged the foot-long sex toy stuck to the furniture. Seriously, what the fuck Brandi? They were just props for her shows, but he thought it was just common courtesy to throw that shit in her locker when she was done.
Chaz couldn't believe he was wasting his last living thoughts on this stupid shit.
Instead of lamenting on his end like a little bitch, Chaz pulled the baggie of coke out of his pocket. His hands were shaking. What kind of pussy shit was that?
He could barely think, let alone see straight, but he'd done this for years. His failing body knew what to do.
His clumsy, floundering movements send plenty of the precious white powder scattering over the floor, but he was determined to see this through. He used the razor blade in his pocket to cut a line (his fingers were soon shredded to ribbons, but he could barely feel them), leaned forward, and snorted his last fuck you to the world.
The darkness took him.
Life had busted out her strap-on one last time. That bitch hadn’t even brought lube.
Chaz lost himself.
----------------------------------------
Time passed like the crawl of molasses. He was awash in blackness, aware of nothing, dunked deep into the realm of the unconscious. Perception was beyond him. Memories, most of them pretty shitty, were the only things that filled his awareness. Little dots of hard-won victory stood out like gems in the night sky, and it was those he pored over with the obsession of a man (he was a man, wasn't he?) with nothing else.
It was pretty fucking boring.
But something changed. He felt something tug, detach, and then he was free!
"Bruh. What the fuck?"
He stared down at his own body. It was a pretty sore sight, too, minus the shredded physique, awesome hair, and chiseled features that had no equal. His skin (and wasn't that weird to look at?) was sickly pale, reminiscent of curdled milk, and a trail of blood oozed from one nostril. Chaz's mouth was agape as he laid collapsed against the table, all the coke scattered all over the place.
Chaz had paid good money for that.
Well, that was a lie, actually. He'd had to tolerate an obnoxious little suck-up for it - he'd honestly have rathered forked over the cash. The waste brought a tear to his eye... or it would have. He was pretty sure he didn’t have eyes at the moment. It kind of reminded him of that time he’d tripped on DMT and totally disconnected from his body. Ego death was a hell of a drug.
This was pretty fucking weird, but maybe it was some drug metaphor from his subconscious? Time to put those expert rhetoric skills to good use.
Chaz had talked about a hundred women into bed. He could totally talk his way out of this.
"Bro, get up. You look like shit. C'mon, we'll take Krystal on that date and clap those cheeks. We'll make an actual fuckton of money defending people who kill pandas. Don't be a fucking pussy!"
His body didn't respond. Go figure.
Yeah, he looked pretty dead from this vantage point... whatever it may be.
"Ahem!"
Chaz... turned? He still couldn't feel much of anything, but his view swiveled around to look away from his body. Damn, was he really dead or was this some kind of weird dream? If he was dead, he'd better not void his bowels or whatever it was dead people did. It was already going to be embarrassing enough if Krystal came back here and saw him passed out with his head next to Brandi's bizarrely huge 'toy'.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
"What's up?" His awareness settled on this new person.
Holy shit. At least the view wasn’t bad.
A face that would’ve won a million simps. Long black hair tied in some intricate Japanese style. Her rockin’ bod was dressed up in a tight kimono with silver kanji (thanks anime) arrayed in fine, intricate lines… were they moving? He’d swear they were inching across the black fabric.
Normally he'd be skeptical of obviously fake garbage, but his bullshit meter had broken into a million pieces in the last few minutes.
A symbol of a bejeweled spear was woven into the white cloth beneath her well-fitted kimono, but -
Damn, her tits were massive. Maybe she belonged in this club after all.
"You're... not whom I was expecting."
"Yeah, same for you. I was expecting Angel. Blonde, smoking hot, sweet as a Golden Retriever with the IQ to match? I'm pretty sure I got a goddamn heart attack instead. Guess we're all gonna be disappointed today."
A pair of spectacles appeared on her face. He was pretty sure it was just so that she could lower them for dramatic effect. "I never said I was disappointed."
Heh, he could work with that. At least Chaz was pretty sure she wasn't about to eat his soul or some edgy shit like that. "What's your name anyways? Don't think I've seen you working the poles here before. Been a while since we got a new girl."
She snorted. "Izanagi."
"Like the goddess?"
Her ruby lips quirked. "Something like that."
"Isn't she supposed to be dead? And, uh, fucking fake?"
The Japanese lady with the big knockers finally lost that bored expression. She flipped him off. "You're not very bright, are you? If we’re going down that route… I got better.”
She snapped her fingers and he suddenly became aware of his body again... well, not his real body since that was still laid out over the table, but he could feel his arms and legs and face and dick again. Nice.
Wait, why the fuck was his dick out?
Whatever. He had nothing to be ashamed of. At least he had one again instead of being some weird glowing orb or something.
"Why don't we start over now that you're feeling a bit more at home? Let's see... Jazz Richardson?" The hot chick in the (suddenly very loose) kimono blinked. She had a little notebook in her hand that she flipped open and squinted at.
Chaz tried not to stare too hard at her tits, but they were literally falling out of the kimono. Nice. She'd be a big hit if she ever took up the stage. Dudes would line up for miles to get a crack at her. ‘Izanagi’ began mumbling to herself.
"Average height, brown hair, brown eyes, virgin, no discernible personality or interests to speak of… the perfect candidate!"
She raked her eyes over him and pursed her lips. One finger prodded her glasses back into place – the whole sexy librarian thing really worked for her. If he wasn't so sketched out by being a goddamn glowing spirit that could see his own body laid out on the stockroom's furniture then he'd probably (definitely) already be going for her.
"Sorry sister, but I think you've got the wrong dude."
Her notebook flipped shut. "Yes, I'd certainly say so." She didn't seem to be complaining, though. Black eyes scanned him over again. Full lips quirked upwards as she zoned in on particular parts of him (particularly huge, right?). "No, you're definitely not Jazz. It's a shame, though. He really was the perfect candidate."
Chaz's curiosity was piqued. His arms folded across his spectral chest. He was slowly getting used to the sensation, but it was still weird as shit. Had Jimmy gotten him bad coke again? That cheap little bastard had fucked him over too many times to count now. If this really was a bad trip, Chaz was never going to buy from him again.
He just needed a good rush that lasted a few minutes, not whatever the fuck this was.
"A candidate for what? Dude sounds as interesting as watching some of the old creeps here trying to pick up the dancers."
The 'goddess' didn't answer right away, but she did check over her notebook again. She seemed to have made it her policy to ignore his similes. Her eyes blurred over whatever was written on it too quickly for him to keep up. It almost made him dizzy. Was that even physically possible at the moment?
"Well, you are dead. From a..." Izanami's eyebrows rose, then she sniggered. "Myocardial infarction resulting from... wow, really? This Krystal must have been a lucky lady. Was it worth it?"
His heart might have skipped a beat. Unfortunately, he was lacking one of those at the moment. Most of the time people said that metaphorically about future lawyers. He’d never thought it would be literal.
"So I'm really dead? Dude, that blows!" Chaz groaned. Maybe he ought to be more worried, but he was still half-certain he was just tripping balls from something Jimmy had laced his shit with. Best to just roll with it for now.
And hey, at least his hallucination was smoking hot. He'd always been good at finding the silver linings.
"Whatever, laugh it up," he shook his head as Izanami kept sniggering. Chaz grinned as his mind was filled with his last waking thoughts – Krystal's perfect ass, the rush of cocaine, and the flood of dopamine filling his system before his heart clenched up. "Yeah, it was worth it. That ass."
Izanagi arched a fine black eyebrow, flipped to the next page of her notebook, and blinked. "Wow. You aren't kidding. Good for Krystal!"
"I know, right? Ten out of ten."
She seemed pretty eager to rain on his parade.
"You're still dead, though." Izanami helpfully pointed out. She played with the hem of her kimono, inadvertently tugging her neckline down a little to reveal a tantalizing flash of pale cleavage. Her eyes focused on his super ripped abs – as she should. He'd spent years trying to build those babies up. "But perhaps you don't have to stay that way."
Let's see, hot maybe-goddess with tits the size of his head visiting a dying dude... this sounded kind of familiar, huh? Cliche as fuck. He was definitely tripping balls right now. Kind of sad that his dying hallucination was a ripoff of every shitty light novel known to man.
"Throw it at me. Any chance it ends with us..." Chaz helpfully poked his index finger in and out of a hole he made with his other hands.
You know, just in case she didn't understand.
She was somewhere between amused and disgusted. If this was her day job, maybe he was just breaking up the monotony a bit. Chaz didn't really care, though. He was just shooting his shot.
"Charming. No, I don't think so. Not unless you want that nice, shiny soul of yours to shatter into a thousand screaming pieces. Mortals and gods don't really mix, you know. You're a little too... insubstantial at the moment to have any fun like that. "
"Eh, worth it."
"I'm starting to question your priorities, but I digress. You see," Izanami snapped her fingers and a chart manifested in midair. Imagine having superpowers and that's what you use them for. His hallucinations were lame as hell. The DMT released by his brain in his last moments freaking sucked. Izanami wasn't even naked, even if she was one tug of her kimono away from spilling out of her top. "I'll pretend I didn't just hear you think that. This is all very real, by the way."
Sure, sure.
"Anyway," she stressed and pointed to the chart, where a line graph had just materialized. Her finger brushed a relatively flat line towards the bottom. "See that? 1800. And this?” She trailed over an exponential spike. “2022. Ignore the parts that come after. You don’t have a future, so why should you care? Your kind has antibiotics, technology, and medical knowledge beyond cutting a man open to purge the bad blood to thank for that.This recent population explosion has the afterlife a wee bit full, so we've come up with a solution. We send certain souls to other dimensions -"
"Making it someone else's problem, got it."
Izanami rolled her eyes. "I can send you off too. Jazz was just the one I intended to find - it's fun for me as well, you know. Not a lot changes in eternity, and this job can be thankless at the best of times. You can only meet so many souls before all - most - blur together. This world has become horribly mundane."
Chaz yawned and scratched at his ultra chiseled abs, not that he really needed to given he didn't have a real goddamn body. He steadfastly ignored his corpse slowly sagging off the table - that was just embarrassing, dude.
A little rush of satisfaction shot through him as the goddess (?) allowed her starlit eyes to drift a little lower to his cut abs, then lower still.
She didn’t care at all that Chaz had noticed. Izanami waved her hand and the chart vanished. "What do you say? You get another shot at this life thing - and hopefully don't screw it up so spectacularly this time - and I get a bit of entertainment. It's win-win, hmm?"
"I want a contract."
"Excuse me?" It was the first time she’d revealed anything resembling surprise. Chaz would count that as a win.
He grinned. "You heard me. I was gonna be a lawyer, baby! Anything that sounds too good to be true usually is - show me the fine print."
Izanami's eyes glimmered. "You expect me to sit down and haggle over details?" She snorted, then slipped into a short bout of condescending laughter. His psycho mom could've learned a thing from her. "Oh, you'll be fun. Your consent wasn't really a factor, you know! I was just trying to be nice. Enjoy your new home!"
Everything happened in an instant.
Chaz's eyes widened as she appeared inches away and shoved her fist right through his chest - Krystal had always said (joked, he hoped) she'd wanted to give his fine ass a good fisting, but this was just fuckin' weird, man. Even weirder than the other thing, somehow.
It didn't hurt, but it felt like her claw-like fingers were wriggling around in his deepest parts. A little too intimate for him, even if she was giving him a pretty nice view of her massive tits this close up.
"Oh, you're so tight!" Izanami winked at him, leaned forward, and let her tongue salaciously trace the rim of his ear. It burned pleasantly. There were a lot of confusing things going on in his head (and metaphorical pants) right now. "Is this your first time, sweetheart? Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
Her mostly exposed chest heaved, and he couldn't help but glance down in hope of catching a glimpse - Izanami just rolled her eyes, offered up a feline grin, and squeezed. Chaz gasped as a shock like an earthquake ripped through his faintly glowing body. The beginnings of a tug manifested in his gut.
Izanami's other hand adjusted her spectacles, then drifted down to cradle his jaw and angled it up to look at her impossibly perfect face. Her veneer of humanity faded away - lines shifted, curves perfected, and soon Chaz found himself staring at a woman too terrible and beautiful to describe. The woman's voice drifted into pure notes with a chorus beneath, her eyes filled with eons of life and death, and the unknowable nature of divinity suffused her every feature.
It was pretty fucking hot. He'd smash that. He'd smash that so fucking hard.
"You're a bit of a dumbass, but I do like you. Those abs are something special, so I'll even throw in another perk aside from our little transmigration deal - oh, don't ask!" Izanami's pale hand drifted down from his jaw to circle around his throat when he tried to speak up, then pulled him close in an embrace so that his face was pressed into her tits. Her other fingers wiggled around somewhere in his chest. He had the weirdest boner right now. She could probably feel it. "It has to stay a surprise. You'll like it, I promise."
She had no heartbeat, but he felt her red lips quirk into a smile as she reached deeper, deeper, and deeper still - the tugging got worse, like he was being pulled inside out.
"Enjoy your new home! You'll find it familiar. Any last words? It might be a while before we see each other again."
He gurgled. Izanami's iron grip slackened so that he could speak.
"Harder!"
She had nothing good to say to that as he faded away, but at least he got one last glimpse of those divine eyes widened in surprise.
Ha! He won in the end, bitch!
Chaz always did.
----------------------------------------
He wasn't sure what he'd expected (other than to wake up in the back of an ambulance feeling like shit, that is) but this wasn't it. Chaz couldn't remember much from the dark times. He'd spent an eternity lost in his own mind as he was surrounded by an omnidirectional void and shoved through the darkness just like Izanami's fist had forced its way through his spectral chest.
There was warmth, comfort, then a bright light - a fucking annoying baby started crying, then Chaz dimly realized it was him.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck fuck.
Fuck his life!
He died of a heart attack and then Izanami sent him back as a dumb, crying, shitting baby! That sly bitch. He was a man! The man. He wasn’t doing all that crap again!
Chaz wanted to punch something with his flailing little fists, but he couldn’t because he was a fucking baby and Izanami had stolen the last laugh.
He was inclined to respect her for it, but he was fucking pissed. Chaz was slowly coming to accept that this wasn't a drug-fueled hallucination after all.
Goddamnit.
The white light brightened, shone brighter until it consumed his entire vision, then began to form lines and words -
Welcome, New Player!
Character Name: Ryo Kimura
Age: 0
Experience: 0/100
Stats: *Currently Locked*
Skills: *Currently Locked*
Special Abilities: *Currently Locked*
Reputation:
Konohagakure: 100/1,500 (A New Sapling)
Chaz wasn't proud of it, but his tiny baby lungs got one hell of a workout when things clicked and he realized just what this 'other dimension' was... and what that perk she'd mentioned was.
Seriously, what the fuck? She had to have picked this particular world on purpose - and wasn't it weird how easy it was to accept that truth when some squinting fuck in a white coat peered down at him with a Hidden Leaf headband?
The light was back. The screen formed again.
New Quest: Childhood!
Description: You are the newest inheritor of the Will of Fire, one of the new generation born at the tail end of a great conflict. Although a golden age is on the horizon as the Yondaime Hokage assumes his mantle fully, there are whispers of danger lurking in the shadows beneath Konoha's great boughs.
Konoha's hopes are vested in the generation born into this new peace, but danger lurks everywhere.
Objective: Survive until you may enter the Academy.
Accept/Accept
Chaz tried to mouth, "Fuck off!" but just managed to cry and wiggle his arms a bit. Being a baby fucking sucked. A nurse cooed at him and spanked him - he cried even louder just to spite her.
The bright light pulsed again. Reality slipped away as the words appeared again, invisible to everyone but Chaz.
New Quest: Childhood!
Description: You are the newest -
(Accept/Accept)
Fuck off. I'm not being pigeonholed into this shit. What kind of crappy game doesn't even let you say no?If it keeps pulling this shit I’m going to be pissed.
New Quest: Childhood!
Description: You are -
(Accept/Accept)
NO!
New Quest: Childho -
(Accept/Accept)
FINE!
The screen vanished and he was back to the hospital. His thoughts began to muddle as his new brain took over, like everything he was just couldn't fit into this dumbass too-big baby head. Righteous anger filled him as the feel weight of this stupid situation pressed down on him.
Don’t get him wrong, Chaz knew this place.
He knew Naruto. He loved Naruto, even if he’d slipped away from it in the last few years as life picked up. He'd watched it since he was a kid. His dumb little face had been pressed up against the screen every day after school while mom flipped out about stupid psycho shit in the background. He’d practically nutted the first time he watched the first Naruto and Sasuke fight.
But Chaz wasn't a moron. He didn't want to live here.
Chaz was a badass. He was a fighter. His abs had seduced a goddamn goddess into giving him a second chance at life, even if it was proving to be a pretty crappy one so far. He didn’t want to remember getting his diaper changed, even if it was a goddamn honor and a privilege for these new fake parents to service him, and part of him hoped he'd just pass out until he got some higher brain function.
He was already starting to slip away as the nurses swaddled him and handed him over to a beaming black-haired woman.
He was so tired… stupid infant body.
But Chaz had picked up plenty in that garbage quest intro. The Fourth Hokage was just taking over. The Third Shinobi War had just recently wrapped up.
The Nine-Tails was coming soon, and this wasn’t soft Kurama with little chibi made of him. This was the monster fox that was going to squish this village like a bug if the Fourth Hokage didn’t stop him.
And even if he survived that, it was only the beginning.
Orochimaru (he hoped he didn't run into that creepy fuck as a kid). Itachi. The Akatsuki and Pain, that simp Obito... they were all on the horizon, and Chaz was self-aware enough to know that he wasn't going to Talk no Jutsu his way out of those.
There was potential, though. Every kid who had seen Naruto dreamed of doing cool ninja shit, and he could pull it off. He wasn’t afraid of hard work. Little Chaz would’ve fucking murdered somebody if it meant throwing kunai and spitting fireballs.
Hell, he could even earn a living by killing bad guys with badass ninja superpowers. It wasn’t a law degree, but Chaz thought he might be able to make it work.
Plus, the women.
Yeah, young impressionable Chaz was definitely rearing his horny, puberty-stricken head right now. Chaz had never told a soul, but Tsunade had probably done half the work of kickstarting him into puberty. Not his proudest moment, and it was definitely the shitty porn he'd flipped through hundreds of channels to find that finished the job, but it was the truth.
God bless Tsunade and her tits!
Yeah, maybe there were some upsides after all. He'd just have to steer clear of any weird shit. He might be a douche, but he wasn't a creep.
But that was for later. He yawned, which was probably disgustingly adorable to the dumbass adults crowding him. His sharp, adult mind faded away and was slowly replaced by the feeble instincts and smoothbrained baby thoughts until his mind could handle his memories and knowledge.
His eyes squeezed shut as his ‘parents’ fussed over him.
It had been a long ass day.
His conscious mind wouldn't awaken for months.
A/N:
Let's go! Finally got this out people. Hope you liked the first chapter, and if you didn't that you'll give it another chance or two to make a good impression. It's been in the back of my mind for a week or so. I've written some stuff before but this is my first real crack at a story like this.
First chapter is a little light on the action and game mechanics, but that's coming in the next chapter. If you have any questions on basic stuff about the gamer system just shoot me a message.
This one was just to give Chaz an introduction. He's definitely not an SI, although there's a few small pieces of me in there, but I haven't crossed snorting coke off a stripper's ass, having a heart attack, and being isekai'd off my bucket list yet. This story is really just to have dumb fun, even though I've planned out a bunch of it. Don't take some of the details or characters too seriously… including the Japanese mythology details lol. I tried to include some little nods, but entertainment comes before accuracy.
I'm shooting to update once a week. It would be awesome to hear what you think so far. One thing I'd like to know is if you think if I should go more explicit or less. Still nailing out some of the details and figuring out what's acceptable for this site.
I'd love to see your feedback - I'd really appreciate hearing your thoughts. Hope you all are having a good one. Peace.