Consciousness crept back into my brain like a hangover in reverse—starting terrible and somehow getting weirder. The first thing I noticed was that my body felt… off. Not broken or painful, just different. Like someone had taken my usual spaghetti-noodle physique and run it through some kind of optimization program. My muscles felt denser, more solid, like they actually had a purpose beyond just keeping my skeleton from collapsing into a pile of disappointment.
And my dick definitely felt heavier.
I mean, I was used to being well-endowed—literally the only genetic lottery I'd ever won—but this felt like someone had upgraded the hardware. Which probably should've concerned me more than it did, but honestly? After yesterday's shitshow, I'd take any improvement I could get.
But why did this feel like my bed? The familiar lumpy mattress, the sheets that smelled like fabric softener and teenage desperation, the way my pillow had that perfect depression from years of holding my head while I contemplated my failures.
Did they actually bring me home from the infirmary? That seemed like a liability nightmare waiting to happen.
I cracked open my eyes, and yep—definitely my room.
The same peeling paint on the ceiling, the same stack of porn magazines I kept meaning to throw away after they'd served their purpose, I needed a new bunch for July until September. My same desk covered in cables and half-finished coding projects. My poor gaming setup glowed softly in the corner like a technological altar to my social isolation.
Wait. The system.
Holy shit, the system.
I bolted upright, and instead of the usual symphony of joint pops and muscle protests, I moved smoothly. Like my body actually worked the way it was supposed to.
"That was… new."
"Status," I whispered, feeling like a complete dork but also kind of hoping something magical happened.
And something did.
[Status Screen]
Name: Peter Carter
Age: 16
Level: 1
Physical Stats: 7/10 (+3 from base 4/10)
Charm: 6/10 (+3 from base 3/10)
Intelligence: 8/10 (unchanged)
Stamina: 7/10 (+3 from base 4/10)
Charisma: 6/10 (+3 from base 3/10)
Special Abilities:
IT Genius (Expert level coding and hacking)
Enhanced Physique (Improved muscle definition and coordination)
Magnetic Presence (Subtle attraction enhancement, not fully unlocked)
Talents: Smart, IT Genius, Huge PP, Strategic and Calculative, Reckless
Current Mission: None
System Points: 0
Holy fucking shit. It actually worked.
I stared at the floating interface, my brain trying to process what I was seeing.
My physical stats had jumped from "sad noodle boy" to "actually might not embarrass myself at the beach." My charm had gone from "social disaster" to "maybe won't immediately repel women." And apparently, I had special abilities now, which sounded way cooler than anything that had ever happened to me.
But the real test was visual confirmation.
I stumbled out of bed—and stumble was the wrong word because I actually moved with something resembling coordination—and headed to the mirror on my closet door.
The guy staring back at me was… still me, but like someone had taken me to a really good editor. Not a completely different person, just the best possible version of myself.
My hair, which usually looked like I'd stuck my finger in an electrical socket, now had this perfectly tousled look that probably took other guys an hour and expensive products to achieve. It was still black, but it had this subtle shine and texture that made it look like I actually knew what conditioner was for.
My eyes were still dark, but there was this new intensity to them, like someone added depth and contrast in post-production.
There was also this weird tint—not colored contacts weird, just this subtle something that made them more noticeable, more magnetic. Like they actually drew attention instead of just being "generic black eyes, probably belongs to someone forgettable."
My face had better bone structure somehow. My jaw was more very slightly defined, my cheekbones actually existed, and my skin looked like I'd never heard of acne. I still looked like me, just… optimized. Like someone had taken my genetic code and fixed all the bugs.
My shoulders were broader, filling out my old sleep shirt in ways that didn't make me look like a scarecrow wearing human clothes. I could actually see the outline of muscles under my skin—not bodybuilder huge, just lean and defined like I maybe touched a dumbbell once in my life.
And then there was the situation down below.
I glanced down and immediately understood why things had felt heavier. Without getting into graphic detail, let's just say the system's "+stats" was thorough. I was already working with solid specs, but now I was packing what could generously be called a premium hardware.
This was either the best thing that's ever happened to me, or I was having the most elaborate fever dream in medical history.
"Well," I told my reflection, "At least I could probably land a girl now."
My reflection seemed to agree. For the first time in my life, I didn't immediately want to punch the mirror.
I was about to investigate more when I heard footsteps in the hallway. Shit. Mom was probably getting ready for her shift at the hospital, and my sisters were probably doing whatever teenage girls do at—I checked my phone—7:30 AM on a Wednesday.
Wait. Wednesday? How long was I out?
I threw on some clothes and tried to process what the hell was happening to my life.
Yesterday, I was Lincoln High's favorite punching bag. Today, I woke up with a video game interface and a body that didn't immediately scream please stuff me in a locker.
This was either going to be the best day of my life…
Or the weirdest psychological break in adolescent history.
Honestly? At this point, I was willing to roll with either option.
__
A/N: Let's go guys, pump it.