Chapter 1: [1]: System Activation, A Prayer Answered Wrong
Late August. 11:47 PM. Apartment 4B, Sunset Vista Complex.
Lucas Wright sat at his desk with his pants around his ankles and his headphones in, staring at a laptop screen like it owed him money. On screen: a MILF compilation video titled "Lonely Housewife Needs Young Stud’s Help Moving Furniture (It Wasn’t The Furniture That Got Moved)."
He’d been edging for forty minutes. Not because he was savoring it. because his brain wouldn’t shut up long enough to let him finish.
Nineteen years, he thought, grip tightening on himself. Nineteen years on this planet and the most action I’ve gotten is a barista spelling my name "Lukas" and me being too much of a pussy to correct her.
The video played on. Fake moans. Implausible scenario. The "housewife" looked maybe thirty with obvious implants and a soul-dead stare that said she’d rather be literally anywhere else. Lucas’s dick started going soft in his hand.
Great. Can’t even jerk off right.
He let go. Closed the laptop. Stared at his reflection in the black screen. messy brown hair, plain brown eyes, the kind of face women looked through instead of at.
His dad had a new family now. His mom had a new life across the country. His last conversation with a woman his own age was two months ago, and she’d been a chatbot. He’d talked to it for three days before realizing "Jessica, 19, just moved to your city!" wasn’t real.
A virgin nobody who’s going to die alone in a shitty apartment eating stale cereal and jacking off to women who’d never spit on him if he was on fire.
His throat tightened. His mouth moved before his brain caught up.
"I’d do anything." The words came out raw. Desperate. "Anything. Just... let me touch one. One real woman. An experienced woman. Someone who knows what she’s doing." His voice cracked. "I don’t care if it’s magic or a deal with the devil or... I’d give anything to fuck a real milf."
The air changed.
Temperature dropped three degrees in one second. His skin prickled like static electricity. The hair on his arms stood straight up.
A sound slid into his mind. Not quite a voice. Not quite a thought. Something between... a whisper coated in honey, feminine and amused.
"Oh my... that is a delicious prayer."
Lucas jumped so hard he knocked his chair over. Scrambled backward, nearly tripped on his pants still around his ankles, grabbed the edge of his desk for balance.
"Who’s there?! Hello?!"
His laptop screen flickered. His phone lit up on the nightstand. The LED lamp on his desk pulsed once, twice...
Then reality rippled.
Like heat distortion off summer asphalt, except it was midnight and his AC was humming. The ripple concentrated in the center of his room, light forming within it... purple and gold threads weaving together, building shapes, borders, letters, numbers.
A window materialized in the air. Floating. Impossible. Glowing with soft purple light that pulsed like a heartbeat.
```
[SYSTEM ACTIVATION SEQUENCE]
[Host Compatibility: VERIFIED (0.01%)]
[Desire Quotient: CRITICAL MASS]
[MILF TAMER’S SYSTEM — ONLINE]
[Welcome, Master. I’ve been waiting SO long for you...]
```
Lucas’s mouth hung open. His dick was still out. He was acutely aware of both facts.
The voice spoke again... definitely female now, definitely amused, definitely coming from inside his head:
"You wished for the ability to claim mature women, Lucas Wright. Your wish has been heard. Your wish has been granted."
"Holy shit." He pulled his pants up with shaking hands. "Holy shit holy shit holy... "
Another window popped up. Brighter. More urgent.
```
[QUEST: FIRST BLOOD]
[Objective: Make physical contact with an eligible milf within 24 hours]
[Contact Definition: Skin-to-skin touch]
[lasting >3 seconds (handshakes don’t count)]
[Target Pool: [SCANNING...]
[→ 1 eligible target detected in range]
FAILURE PENALTY:
[Permanent -10 Charisma (Yes, we mean permanent]
Reward:
[Charm Aura Lv.1] Ability]
[50 TP]
[+5 All Stats]
[Rank advancement to Recognizer]
[TIME REMAINING: 23:59:52]
```
The timer started counting down.
Lucas stared at the floating window. At the quest. At the words "permanent" and "failure" sitting way too close together.
"Wait... twenty-four hours?! I barely talk to anyone, let alone—"
"Then I suggest you start talking fast, Master." The System’s voice dripped with sarcastic sweetness. "Your target has already been identified. And conveniently... she lives in this very building."
A partial profile flickered into view:
```
[TARGET DETECTED]
[Distance: 30 meters (same building)]
[Unit: 1A (Landlord’s Apartment)]
[Difficulty: D-Rank (6/10)]
[Warning: Ice Queen Classification]
```
Lucas’s blood ran cold.
Apartment 1A. The landlord’s apartment.
Mrs. Elena Vance.
The woman who’d fined him last week for "excessive noise during quiet hours." He’d been watching a movie at normal volume. She’d stood in his doorway with that frozen stare and that tight mouth and handed him a written warning like she was serving court papers.
The scariest woman in the building. Maybe the scariest woman he’d ever met.
And he had less than twenty-four hours to touch her.
Fuck me running.
