"Hah! Fuhh~".
The steady, rhythmic burn in my shoulders and chest was a grounding force. Up. Down. Each push-up drove the lingering, dreamlike haze of yesterday from my mind, replacing it with a satisfying, physical reality. Sweat dripped from my brow, spotting the mat beneath me, each drop a testament to the new discipline shaping this once-neglected body.
But my thoughts, inevitably, drifted back. The memory of Cathy's mouth—hot, wet, and impossibly skilled—wrapping around my cock sent a fresh jolt of heat through me, unrelated to the exercise. The feel of her hands, first professional then worshipful, on my skin. The raw, unfiltered desire in her eyes as she looked at me, not as a failed son, but as a man. It felt like a vivid, impossibly erotic dream.
The fact that it was real, that she had not only accepted but encouraged me to go more and I can demand it at any time I wanted, was the most concrete proof I had that my world had fundamentally changed. The bond between her and Old Sael, once fractured and strained, was now reforged in fire and desire, stronger and more complex than ever by me. which honestly the best outcome that I ever anticipated.
Though last night, after dinner, feeling the weight of the 250-dollar stipend in my account—money earned in the most surreal way possible—I'd announced my intention to contribute to the household expenses. I am used to be a person that do their job and take a responsibility, but apparently, that was a wrong move in this household. The reaction I got was, not something that I thought I would get.
"Absolutely not, Sael. Put that away right now. We can manage just fine." Her tone was firm, brooking no argument. Cathy's face had fallen, a look of genuine hurt flashing in her eyes.
"What is this? Are you looking down on us? On me? Thinking we can't provide for our own family?". Aunt Vera, who had been drying a plate, had slammed it down on the counter with a sharp crack.
"Your job is to focus on your health and your duties. Our job is to take care of this house. Don't you forget it.". Her dark eyes had flashed with a mixture of anger and pride, her ample chest heaving.
"I'm not looking down on anyone. I've changed. I want to contribute. I need to. Even if it's just a little. Let me show you I'm serious about being a part of this family, not just a burden it supports.". I'd stood my ground, a new firmness in my own voice.
At some point, things are going to change, I am quite confident that the dynamics of this house would shift when I begin to get my profits from the game that I were about to release. My words had given them pause. The sheer sincerity, so foreign from the old Sael, had disarmed them. After a tense, silent conversation conducted entirely through glances, they had reluctantly relented. But they'd only accepted one hundred dollars. Cathy had explained that with my first successful donation, our family subsidies had been reinstated and even increased from 70% to 85%. My compliance was already paying dividends in ways that went beyond mere cash. Then again, as a man, I kinda feel less of myself, if I don't say these things out loud, and made arrangements properly. These ladies had been through enough, one way to show them, I am a changed person and can be seen as a man, is by really doing my part.
So, with one hundred dollars left that was truly mine to spend, I'd made a decision to do something about my rather, measly Stats. I'd always been a man who appreciated order, who thrived on seeing things quantified and organized. Stats, levels, progress bars—I have the tendency to make sure the numbers were balanced, that is how I was with all of my games, and now I wanted to do the same with my very own stats.
Sitting on my bed later that night, I'd pulled up my mental interface. The holographic display, visible only to me, glowed in the dim room.
SAEL HARDCOX
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STR: 3
DEX: 3
INT: 8
CHA: 5
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Kinda Pathetic numbers for a stat, but fixable. Ten dollars per stat point, and since I have one hundred dollars to spend on, and free at the moment, since Mom and the others refuses to take it. I decided to use it all to buy ten points.
Since I need to urgently fixed my body, which at the same time also affected by the stat numbers, it was only proper to build a proper foundation. Strength and Dexterity couldn't languish at a sickly 3. I allocated three points to each, bringing them to a baseline of 6. Which made me feels that at 6, it felt a bit more proper.
As a game developer and also a person that would be dealing in creativity, my Intelligence will be my greatest asset, my connection and memory to my old life creative industry is my key to success here. I poured two points into it, boosting it to a solid 10. The remaining two points I dropped into Charisma, nudging it from a reclusive 5 to a more approachable 7.
I knew from Sunday explanations, that changes in Stat, will affect my physical body. So, as I done allocating everything, I took a deep breath and mentally confirmed the changes. The effect was not a gentle glow of empowerment. It was a violent, sudden invasion.
Agony, pure and undiluted, erupted in every fiber of my being. It felt like my bones were being snapped and reforged, my muscles tearing and re-knitting themselves thicker and denser. A white-hot fire raced along my nerves; a migraine of cosmic proportions exploded behind my eyes as new neural pathways violently carved themselves into my brain. I convulsed, biting down hard on my pillow to stifle the scream that clawed at my throat. The taste of cotton filled my mouth as I writhed on the bed, my back arching off the mattress.
It was a ten-minute eternity of exquisite torture. Just when I thought I would black out, the pain receded as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving me gasping and drenched in a cold sweat, trembling from head to toe.
I lay there for several minutes, just breathing, waiting for my heart to stop trying to hammer its way out of my chest. When I finally pushed myself up, the results were immediately, stunningly visible.
I was taller. Significantly so. The world looked different from this height. I stumbled to my full height, my head now clearing the top of my doorframe with ease. I was easily 180 centimeters now. I looked down at my body. The sharp, bony protrusions of my ribs and hips were gone, replaced by a layer of new, firm muscle. My arms and shoulders had gained definition; my chest was broader. I wasn't an obscenely big like a bodybuilder, but I was no longer a malnourished waif. I felt solid, I can feel a raw, physical power humming under my skin that I'd never known before, whenever I flex, it was painful, but also now, it was well worth it.
And my mind… it was clearer. Sharper. Memories from my old life—game code, anime plots, obscure movie quotes—snapped into focus with crystalline clarity. My thoughts raced ahead, making connections faster, analyzing more efficiently. I flexed my hands, and the movement was smoother, more coordinated. The world seemed to move just a fraction slower, my reaction time noticeably improved. I stared at my reflection in the dark window. The boy who had been Sael was gone. In his place was the foundation of the man I intended to become, I never thought I can become this new buff and handsome me, I have to admit, Hardcox family genetics is just absurd.