Yeah… now this was the good stuff.
Reed's eyes lingered greedily over the glossy pages, drinking in every sinful detail. The magazine in his hands wasn't just any issue—it was the latest Penthouse, hot off the press.
And the page he was staring at? It wasn't a casual spread—it was an otaku's fever dream brought to life.
The model was an Asian beauty with a face like porcelain and curves that looked sculpted by divine hands. Her long black hair framed her blushing face as she knelt, knees pressed together, back arched just enough to make her breasts strain against the tiny, barely-there bikini top. The fabric struggled to contain her heavy, round mounds, the deep cleavage a dangerous invitation.
Her lips were parted slightly, fingers brushing them in a teasing, "oops, did I do that?" pose, while her wide, doe-like eyes looked up with an expression that was equal parts innocent and filthy. And her body… that tiny waist, that full, perfect ass—soft and plump, practically begging to be touched.
Reed felt his pulse quicken, his breath a little heavier. His cheeks flushed, his gaze glued to the image.
Now this… this is what I call a waifu, he thought, his lips curling into a private grin.
Only then did it hit him—he was still in public. Standing in the middle of the store like some lovesick fool.
His eyes flicked left, then right, scanning for anyone watching him.
This was Reed Williams—an unashamed, 18-year-old pervert, diehard otaku, and web novel junkie. If he wasn't in class or gaming, he was neck-deep in fantasy worlds, chasing after anime beauties, and occasionally… indulging in more earthly pleasures.
"Mm… yeah," he muttered under his breath, eyes still on the page, "that's exactly what I needed today."
Snapping the magazine shut, he strode to the cashier, slapped his money on the counter, and took the glossy treasure into his possession.
Purchase complete. Mission accomplished.
And with that, Reed stepped back into the streets, already imagining what the night ahead would hold.
Reed strolled down the quiet city street, his steps unhurried. Night had long since settled in, the orange glow of the streetlamps reflecting off the slick pavement. The air was cool, crisp, and carried the faint scent of fried food from a nearby late-night stall.
The street was growing emptier by the minute, the chatter of passersby replaced with the occasional hum of a distant car engine. His cheeks still held a faint flush—not from the cold, but from the glossy treasure he carried under his arm.
Classes tomorrow… he mused. Alright. The plan: get home, shut the door, open this magazine, and savor it like the masterpiece it is. He stopped mid-thought, lips curling into a grin. No, no… tomorrow's way too far off. Tonight is the night. Best to explore every single page, every detail, every— He chuckled softly. Then maybe I can reward myself with a few chapters of "Princesses, Prayers, and Perverted Princes."
He shook his head, amused. "I wonder how many bonus chapters the author will drop today… Who knows, maybe he'll tempt me enough to blow my tuition on gifts." A short laugh escaped him, followed by a muttered, "Nah… even I'm not that stupid."
Fishing out his phone, Reed unlocked it—1, 2, 3, 4; not exactly Fort Knox—and swiped to his web novel app. His thumb hovered over the icon—
Ding!
A text message slid into view. One word.
Hi.
He frowned. Odd.
Ding!
Another followed immediately.
Do you want to play a game?
His brow furrowed. This was… strange. And strange didn't usually faze Reed—unless it was stranger than him.
Reed wasn't shy—far from it—but people? He could take them or, preferably, leave them. There was too much greed, too much envy, too much pointless drama in the world. People wore masks, and he hated every one of them.
He stared at the number. No name. No clue. Definitely not his parents or anyone from his contacts.
Prank? Wrong number? He smirked faintly. Some bored kid trying to be creepy?
It reminded him of the prank calls he used to make in middle school. Never thought I'd be on the receiving end. Guess karma's punctual tonight.
Shaking his head, he pocketed the phone and kept walking, mind drifting back to the time he'd prank-texted his friend Cody—
Honk! Honk!
The sudden, sharp blast of a truck horn shattered his thoughts. Reed's head whipped to the left.
A massive truck was barreling toward the intersection, its headlights dead, its form a shadowy mass cutting through the night. The driver clearly hadn't seen him—or didn't care.
Time slowed. Adrenaline flooded his body. Without thinking, Reed lunged sideways, his shoes skidding against the asphalt.
The truck roared past, missing him by inches, the gust of wind rattling his clothes. The driver leaned on the horn again, vanishing into the dark.
Reed stood there for a second, chest heaving. Then he dragged a hand down his face and let out a shaky laugh. "Holy hell… Truck-kun almost got me. That would've been the most cliché otaku death ever."
He bent down to pick up his magazine from where it had fallen. "Not today. The world isn't ready to lose Reed Williams. And no Truck-kun is—"
Honk! Honk!
This time, the sound came from directly behind him.
Reed froze. Slowly, he turned.
Headlights—blinding white—filled his vision. A second truck was bearing down on him at full speed, its engine a deafening growl.
Move… move! But his body didn't listen. His muscles locked, and all he could do was stare.
"Oh… shit."
CRASH.
The world shattered. Pain never came—just weightlessness, as though gravity had simply stopped caring. The city street, the trucks, the glow of the lamps—all of it dissolved into darkness.
Silence swallowed him whole.
Somewhere in the void, a voice—deep, resonant, and strangely amused—echoed through his mind.
"Arise, Reed."
***
Bonus Chapters will be released after every 20,40,50,70,90,100 powerstones!
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