Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 5: Dark Lord Seduction System...

I held back until she stepped away, then shot a fierce look at the hovering words. Naturally, the system ignored my quiet beg. What was I hoping for, a sultry AI whispering in my ear? This wasn't one of those Japanese light novels where the underdog hero gains magic abilities and a bunch of girls. No, this was actual reality, where my biggest thrill was surviving a punch from the quarterback and bragging about it later.

What sort of total fool chats with visions and waits for replies? Right—me. The very same dude who figured deep talks on penis length fit right into class chats.

Yet the message lingered, taunting me just by being there.

[Ding! Suitable Host detected.

Full integration achieved: 100%.

Status:

Name: Peter Carter

Age: 16

Total Physical Attributes: 3/10 (standard human averages 10)

Charm: 3/10

Talents: Intelligent, IT Prodigy, Massive Endowment, Tactical and Scheming, Impulsive]

Wonderful. Many thanks for the harsh truth bomb, you fake brain-injury system. I truly value you pointing out I'm a mere three out of ten in all the key areas. Still, fair play—it did recognize my one standout trait from genes and my tech expertise. 'IT Prodigy' sounded pretty cool, even if it stemmed from my messed-up mind debating with itself.

Right after I scanned this gloomy summary of my life, fresh lines popped up:

[Host now fully activated...

Fresh Quest: Embrace the Dark Lord Seduction System!

Prizes: +3 points to Physical and Charm stats, One All-Perfect Pill!]

'WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!'

The shout burst from me before my mind could slap on the brakes. I jerked straight up in the bed as if zapped by lightning, my pulse racing to escape via my mouth.

'Peter!' Nurse Luna's sharp tone sliced into my meltdown. 'Lower your volume! This is the infirmary, not some wrestling ring.'

Yet when I rose, a blast of hurt erupted in my head like a bomb going off in there.

The space whirled around like a supercharged spin cycle, forcing me to clutch the bed edges tightly to avoid crashing face-first to the ground. The pounding in my cranium seemed like my mind was launching a brutal rebellion against the bone enclosing it.

Wait a second. Hurt.

Hallucinations or dreams didn't bring pain, did they? That's straight-up basic brain science. If this hellish headache gripped me—if Jack's punch had truly remodeled my face, if the sharp cleaner scent hit me and Nurse Luna's shoes tapped rhythmically—

This must be genuine.

I scanned the infirmary anew—with eyes not totally wrecked by the injury. The plain white walls sported posters on hygiene and vaping risks that everyone ignored. The lineup of beds with their skimpy blue pads likely dated back to the '90s. The med storage sat secured in glass like it held state secrets. The body diagrams displayed innards in all their nasty detail.

Yep, this was absolutely, undeniably real.

Hold on. So if reality ruled, then the interface drifting before my eyes...

'No way. Clearly not. Stop being a total fool, Peter.' I wasn't unique. No chosen hero status for me. Just a defeated kid with a head knock who'd devoured too many fantasy tales, blending made-up stuff with the actual world.

Still, that pesky inner voice—the rational one that stopped me from total idiocy—piped up:

Earlier, the system stayed silent when I'd summoned it like a virtual pet. Perhaps I had to handle it properly—truly work the panel instead of mumbling at nothing like a nutcase.

[YES / NO?]

The choices glowed as if buttons suspended in the gap between normalcy and the chaos invading my world.

Screw it. If insanity called, I'd dive in deep.

Mentally, I tapped YES. Since my fingers couldn't reach the display, perhaps my brain waves could connect with this otherworldly nonsense. It didn't require brilliance to grasp simple interface rules—and my shiny new status said I qualified as brilliant.

Instantly after my mental pick, torment ripped through each bit of me like I'd been wired to raw power lines.

My frame felt like it was bending and remolding beneath the skin, as if my bones underwent a total overhaul by an enraged divine mechanic. Muscles twitched and seized in manners far beyond school lessons, and a core change stirred deep in my genetic code.

The suffering went beyond the body—it resembled my essence getting rebooted, like a massive upgrade was installing across my whole being.

I attempted a yell, but only a weak wheeze escaped, which would've shamed me if death wasn't knocking. Sight flared into blinding noise, plunged to total dark, then swirled with hues beyond earthly palettes. Each particle in me hummed at speeds no person should endure.

Endgame. This marked my exit—not in epic triumph, not aiding others, but from hitting 'accept' on likely universe-level junk software. My epitaph would say:

I couldn't endure further.

Blackness engulfed me entirely like a ravenous beast.

Once more.

Damn it, again.

Perhaps everything was merely a delirium born from agony. When I surfaced, the interface might vanish, returning me to plain Peter Carter—expert at failing, eternal newbie in love, Lincoln High's go-to target. My skull was just processing the knockout from the golden boy.

So pitifully normal: building excitement for the extraordinary while my core feature was stark averageness.

Yet as awareness faded like liquid spilling from my grasp, a defiant fragment of me wished I erred.

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A/N: Your buddy misses out if they're skipping this!