"KYAAA! HELP!!!!"
A loud scream reverberated through the air as a woman fell to the ground, her white blouse disheveled—revealing a glimpse of her pink laced bra, barely hidden behind her trembling palm.
Arkham, hearing the panicked cry, sprinted toward the source. As a student of the Superhero Academia—one of the rare few who might awaken powers—his instincts kicked in. His boots skidded against the pavement as he came to a sharp stop at the alley entrance, black leather jacket fluttering in the wind, sharp eyes locking onto his target.
Three thugs were surrounding the woman.
"STOP! I'm a student of the Hero Academy! Keep moving and I'll be forced to act! Surrender and follow me to the cops!" Arkham shouted.
The thugs froze in place. A flicker of relief passed over the woman's face, but she didn't linger. Seizing the chance, she quickly stood up and left. Arkham barely got a glimpse of her face—blonde hair, blue eyes, and a total beauty.
Just as she disappeared from view, one of the thugs squinted at Arkham's face.
"...Wait a sec. That black hair, sharp gaze… Handsome face—HEY! BOSS!! I think it's him!"
The bigger thug's brow furrowed. "Him?"
"Yeah, it's Arkham! That useless guy from the Academy!"
"Arkham!? You mean the only student who still hasn't awakened his power?!" The boss snorted, then took another look at him. "Tch! So it's really the loser. And you dare mess with our fun?"
He cracked his knuckles—and charged.
Arkham remained calm. No panic. He's been in fights before. He could see it—the punch, the angle, the trajectory. He knew where it would land.
BAM!!!
It still hit him square in the face.
Even if he could see it… his body couldn't react fast enough. A knee slammed into his gut before he could brace. Another fist came flying—sending him crashing to the ground.
Then another. And another.
BAM! BAM!! BAM!!!
Arkham was pummeled into the dirt. Blood dripped from his mouth as the world slowly darkened.
By the time the thugs walked off, the sun had already set. "Dammit… pretty sure I broke another rib," he groaned, flipping onto his back as pain radiated through his chest. "And I missed class again…"
It wasn't the first time this happened. And he wasn't stepping in out of heroism—he needed merit points. Without them, he'd already have been expelled.
On average, students awakened their powers at 15. The earlier they awakened, the more of a prodigy they were.
The latest on record? 16.
Arkham was now 18.If he awakened now, he'd break the record—not in a good way.
As he lay there, gazing up at the night sky, a streak of light caught his eye. "…A shooting star?"
He closed his eyes and muttered.
"God… Buddha… any celestial being out there—or hell, even the author of this messed-up world—please… awaken my power."
He opened his eyes. "There. I said it." He wasn't one to believe in superstition. Not with how crap his life had been. If hell existed, he'd flip it off personally.
Then—something unexpected happened. The light got brighter. It wasn't fading—it was coming closer. His eyes widened. "No. No no no… FUCK! I knew I shouldn't have prayed!"
He remembered some trivia, a 1 in 49 million chance of dying from a meteor. That's if you even saw one every single day.
Never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd be the lucky one. And in this state? Beaten, bleeding, body aching? He tried to get up. Adrenaline surged. But it was too late.
BAM!!!
A meteor slammed into him—and everything went white. A vast, empty space. No sound. No feeling.
Then—an eye opened.
A massive, golden eye locked onto him.
'$%$##$%%'
A strange language echoed in his mind. He didn't understand a word of it. Arkham tried to speak. Tried to move. Nothing.
The light faded. Darkness swallowed everything.
[Selecting the most suitable system…]
[Congratulations. You have been chosen as a candidate for the Pleasure System.]
[Why toil endlessly to claim power when the heights of joy can lift you to the strongest summit? ]
[Seek the peak of pleasure, and you'll find the path to power through ecstasy, not effort.]
[Complete the scenario to become a full host.]
The space shifted again. Arkham's head spun—and then he dropped. But not to the ground. His back landed against something soft. He blinked, regaining his senses. 'An office?'
Then a translucent screen popped up before his eyes.
***
[Scenario: Took Revenge on Your Bully]
Difficulty: E
Your name was Haruto Aizawa, a quiet and timid man who spent most of his school life as the target of cruel teasing.
The worst of them all? Yui Hatano—beautiful, popular, and absolutely merciless. She made your high school days a living hell with endless bullying and humiliating pranks.
Years passed. You thought you'd finally escaped that nightmare.
New job. Fresh start. Freedom.
But fate had other plans.
On your first day at the company, your heart stopped. She's here. Yui Hatano. Your ex-bully. Now your boss.
Objective:
Take Yui Hatano's virginity.
Take a nude picture with your cum inside her.
Reward will be calculated based on scenario result.
***
'The hell?! Am I in some kind of adult game now?!' Arkham cursed in his mind. He looked around—sure enough, he was sitting in Haruto's cubicle. 'The hell just happened?' He only wanted to check the system and find some info—
"Haruto-san, the boss is calling for you."
A voice snapped him out of thought.
'Dammit… already? I haven't even made a plan yet.'
"You should hurry. Last time you kept her waiting, I got my wage cut." The guy clicked his tongue, glaring at Arkham like he owed him money.
Knowing the man wouldn't take no for an answer, Arkham sighed and got up. 'Fine… might as well get a look at the target,' he muttered inwardly.
On the way, he pulled up the system menu in his mind.
[Status] [Horcrux] [Scenario] [Gacha Shop]
All of them were grayed out—except Status.
[Name: Arkham]
Strength: 1 | Agility: 2 | Vitality: 1
Charisma: 5 | Intelligence: 5
'Tch… no wonder I always got beaten up,' he thought. Just one look made it clear—he was physically weak as hell. He didn't know what the average stat was, but 1 definitely wasn't good.
'If average is like, 3, then yeah… I'm basically noodle-tier. But Charisma and Intelligence at 5? Maybe I am a little smarter than the average. And this charisma... is this because I'm originally handsome?' He couldn't help but smirk. A little confidence returned to his step.
He wasn't strong, but that wasn't the goal here. Not a fight—a seduction. The system didn't say it outright, but deep down, Arkham knew it in his gut—if he failed this scenario, he was dead in the real world.
His heart pounded as he stood before the boss's office. He hesitated for just a moment… this would be the first time he try to seduce a woman. In a hurry he then pushed the door open without knocking.
There she was. A beautiful woman sat behind a sleek, polished desk, arms crossed, eyes locked on him with a sharp glare.
Her aura screamed authority, and yet… there was something undeniably alluring about her presence.
She had glossy black hair that fell in waves to her shoulders, framing her flawless face with cool elegance. Her eyes, dark as night saw him with a angry glare.
She wore a tight professional blazer, the fabric hugging her curves just enough to hint at the soft flesh beneath. The collar dipped slightly, drawing his gaze to the shape of her C cup breast, pressed neatly beneath a silky blouse.
She stood at around 162 cm (5'4"), and though she was seated, Arkham could already tell her figure was as balanced—slender, toned, but with enough softness to drive a man crazy.
Her legs, crossed under the desk, were wrapped in sheer black stockings—smooth, professional… but undeniably enticing. "…You're late," she said, her voice calm but cold, the edge in her tone sharper than any slap. "I don't tolerate tardiness, you Snail! And now you even barge in without knocking? Do you want to get fired!?"
If this was Haruto, he would've frozen on the spot—sweating, stammering, maybe even apologizing with his head down.
But this wasn't Haruto anymore. This was Arkham.
If anything, bravery was one of his few real strengths. He never backed down from anyone. Especially not from someone like her. He met her glare with his own, eyes locked, unwavering. 'She really is a beauty… But damn, doesn't she look just like Maria Kozawa?'
Arkham couldn't help the thought. He wasn't some experienced playboy, but he'd watched his fair share of JAV to satisfy his late-night urges. And from the look of her—those curves, that beautiful face, her tight blazer barely hiding her 34C chest—Yui Hatano was a walking replica.
No, not just a lookalike. A damn copy-paste of Maria Kozawa.
He wondered... did the rest of her body match too?
"How dare you look at me like that, you disgusting Snail!?" she snapped, her tone cracking with fury.
Arkham just smirked. "Snail? Heh… Seems like you don't know your place, Yui."
He stepped forward casually, reached behind him, and closed the door with a soft click.
But he didn't stop there.
CLICK!
He locked it.
Yui's expression twisted. Her brows furrowed, anger rising. "What the hell do you think you're doing!? I never told you to lock the door!"
"Oh, I know." Arkham's voice was calm, even playful. "I'm doing this for both of us."
He strolled right up to her desk, then casually sat down on the edge, lifting one leg up and resting it right on the polished surface.
Her eyes widened. Her jaw clenched. "What… what do you mean by that!?" she snapped, her voice shaking—more confused than before.
Arkham leaned in slightly, his gaze sharp. "You tell me, boss," he said, grinning. "What do you think everyone would say if they found out what you used to do in high school?"
Arkham than raise his finger, "Bullying me is one thing, but what would your lovely dad think if he know you have me took some weeds."
"That's not for me!" Yui snapped, voice sharp as she stood straighter, but her eyes flicked across Arkham's face.
There was something different about him now. Something off. She couldn't explain it—but the usual pathetic aura Haruto gave off was gone.
The way he looked at her now… it made her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time—doubt.
Normally, she'd laugh off anything he said. But now? Now, she wasn't so sure.
"Oh, I know thate," Arkham said smoothly. "But do you think your father will see it that way? Do you think your competitors will?"
He leaned forward, his voice lower but every word sharp. "Just imagine the headline. 'Yui Hatano, only daughter of Japan's richest man, caught using drugs in high school.' Let that sink in, Yui.
Think about your father's reaction. Sure, he might defend you. But the shareholders? The public? The vultures waiting to drag your family down?
You know better than anyone—there's more than just a little weed in your past."