Kyle woke to the overwhelming scent of incense and something suspiciously root-like burning in the air.
His eyes cracked open.
Nightmare.
Villagers were collapsed in awkward poses all around him, strewn like firewood after a windstorm. Smoke drifted lazily from the still-burning ceremonial pit. Somewhere in the background, someone was playing a flute badly. No melody. Just vibes.
He groaned.
"This is what I have to see every day?!"
[ Good morning, Master Handsome. ]
[ Would you like to clean yourself for 1 BP? ]
[ YES ] [ NO ]
Kyle muttered, "Very cheap. Are you developing a conscience or something?" and tapped YES.
A warm bubble of water engulfed him. Grime and sweat vanished. A scented breeze followed, drying him instantly. He smelled faintly of lavender. His robe sparkled.
Of course, that was when Lina arrived.
She froze. Eyes wide. A bowl of water trembling in her hands.
Then she dropped to her knees, gasping.
"Purification…" she whispered. "The divine needs no mortal tools. The purgatory cleanses him itself!"
Kyle rubbed his face. "Lady. It was water. From a cheat menu. That's it."
But she wasn't listening. She never did.
She was already writing.
Verse 4:Cleanliness is our first lesson. The divine shall shine, untouched by the dust of the mortal world.
Kyle leaned over and peeked at her page. "Umm… that's not what I said."
"I only transcribe what is meant, not what is said."
"Of course, you do."
He gave up. Again.
It was barely midmorning, and chaos had already parked itself in front of his face.
The village elder emerged from the smoke like a summoned NPC's wrapped in ceremonial leaves and bone jewelry that clinked with every self-important step.
He performed something between a bow and an interpretive dance.
"Oh Ember-Bringer, who grants purification, wisdom, and new cleansing magic… accept us as your messengers!"
Kyle blinked.
"You people need hobbies. Seriously."
Then came another ritual.
Villagers lined up in a spiral around him. Chanting. Bowing. Passing around a cracked conch shell like it was the Ark of the Tupperware Covenant.
Kyle squirmed back toward a tree stump, uneased.
[ Congratulations, Master Handsome. ]
[ You have gained enough followers. ]
[ Additional Quest: Will you receive their sincere ritual? ]
Reward: +100 WP
[ YES ] [ NO ]
He jabbed NO.
[ Access Denied. ]
[ Additional Quest: STARTED ]
He screamed.
"FUCK!"
But they couldn't see the system. Just his face. His tone.
Which meant, obviously, the worst possible interpretation.
Lina stepped forward. Beaming. "The Flame God demands we—"
"STOP! I'm not!" Kyle threw up a hand. "Don't finish that sentence."
He sank onto the stump. Buried his face in both hands.
"What did I do to deserve this cursed life..."
A single tear slid down his cheek.
Of course, Lina saw it.
She gasped. "Oh, dear Great One… he is moved by our sincerity. This is divine confirmation. We are his chosen!"
Then, the rest of them dropped to their knees.
Again.
Kyle didn't look up. "I hate you. I hate this system. I hate this village."
He yanked a blanket over his head.
"I hate everything."
He screamed into it. Silently. His breath hot against the cloth.
Lina heard it.
And, of course, made it worse.
"The Great One gives blessings from the voice within his soul!"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"Thank you for the blessings, Great One!"
Kyle sobbed under the blanket.
Lina heard that too.
"The sob from our sincerity has touched the Great One's heart!"
Kyle curled tighter.
"I'm not hearing anything. I'm not hearing anything. I'm not hearing anything…"
***
What began as a spontaneous prayer had spiraled into a full-blown village festival.
Someone was fire-dancing. Badly.
A kid spun in frantic circles yelling "Ember!" over and over again like a broken summoning spell. Another villager balanced sacred fruits on their head while humming something between a lullaby and a war chant.
No one knew what was happening anymore.
Kyle had actually managed to doze off amid the chaos.
Until the system spammed him awake.
[ Congratulations. Gained more followers +1 ]
[ Congratulations. Gained more followers +1 ]
[ Congratulations. Gained more followers +1 ]
His eyes cracked open. "What—what is happening now?"
[ Followers Count: 73 ]
Kyle sat up, groggy. "Seventy-three?!"
Lina materialized beside him, glowing like the human embodiment of faith-based glitter.
"The All-Knowing knows all before He even sees the number."
Kyle stared. "That doesn't even make sense."
"I know," she said, completely sincere. "That's what makes it divine."
He dragged himself off the ceremonial platform and collapsed onto a woven mat someone had labeled The Meditation Nest. Probably with glitter. Definitely with good intentions.
He was just getting comfortable when Lina crept beside him again.
Too close.
He shifted away only to bump straight into her. Right into her chest, concealed under about seventeen layers of ceremonial cloth, fragrant leaves, and something that smelled like cinnamon and incense trauma.
"Oh, uh…I didn't…"
Lina's cheeks flushed. "Would you like a—"
"No!"
"I heard the divine get fatigued from blessing the unworthy."
Kyle leaned away. Fast.
Unfortunately, he leaned straight back into her again.
Ding.
The system chimed to life with unholy timing.
[ Additional Quest: Bang Her ]
Reward: 50,000 BP
[ YES ] [ NO ]
He froze. "Of course. Of course this pops up now."
A countdown began.
[ 5... 4... 3... ]
"You have a countdown now?!"
He lunged at the screen and slapped [ NO ] like it owed him money.
The screen vanished.
He exhaled slowly. "Finally. Something goes right."
Then he bolted.
No explanation. No words.
Just pure, unfiltered divine retreat.
***
"I'm not doing this. I'm not falling into some accidental touch-based blessing storyline. I'm not that guy," Kyle muttered, storming into the woods.
His pants were tight with irritation—and, okay, maybe a bit of lingering confusion.
"She's way too calm about this."
He walked aimlessly north.
Farther.
And farther.
Until the trees started looking identical, and the light shifted from soft gold to an unsettling shade of gray.
He stopped. Looked around.
"…Where the hell am I?"
[ Want directions back to the village for 5 BP? ]
[ YES ] [ NO ]
"You're extorting me for directions now?"
He groaned and tapped [ YES ].
A glowing arrow appeared, bobbing cheerfully between the trees like it hadn't just blackmailed him.
Kyle followed it with the blank, hollow stare of a man who feared nothing anymore—not death, not pain. Just inconvenience.
"If this takes me in circles, I'm burning down your code."
Minutes passed.
Then a smoke come into view.
Not campfire smoke.
Black smoke. Thick. Heavy. Choking.
And definitely not ceremonial.
Kyle's heart dropped. "No. No no no—"
He sprinted.
By the time he reached the village, chaos had already set up camp and started a barbecue.
Massive, four-legged beasts with oily scales and snapping jaws were tearing through huts like they were made of wet cardboard. One chomped a clay water pot in half and snarled. Another casually flung an entire food stand into the air like confetti.
Villagers ran screaming in all directions.
Some held spoons.
Some wielded loaves of bread.
One man sobbed into a soup bowl.
Then one of the beasts lunged at Lina.
Kyle didn't think.
He grabbed a nearby torch and jammed it into the monster's mouth.
It shrieked, flailed. And burst into blue fire.
Everything went still.
Then, predictably…
They dropped to their knees.
"He summoned holy fire!"
"He returns to burn away the impure!"
"He will cook us if we sin!"
Lina's eyes shimmered with fanatical tears.
"The prophecy… The Flame returns when our faith is tested!"
Kyle turned, eyes wide. "What prophecy?! We never talked about this! We never—"
Too late.
More monsters were crawling out of the forest, claws raking earth, jaws snapping.
Kyle, now feral and filthy, raised the torch and sprinted.
"I can't use magic near the huts," he muttered. "I'll blow up someone's soup again."
DING!
[ Would you like assistance for 1430 BP? ]
[ NO ] [ REFUSE ]
He growled. "You're not even helping. You're just mocking me."
He slammed the menu shut.
"Four left."
A hiss.
A blur.
One leapt, fangs wide.
Kyle raised a hand. "Fireball!"
BOOM.
The monster disintegrated in mid-air, a burst of black ash and regret.
Another charged.
Kyle spun, eyes blazing. "Three fireballs!"
The spell detonated.
Scorched earth. Half a tree gone. Possibly the sound barrier too.
When the smoke cleared, Kyle stood in a crater, soot-stained, panting, clothes half-burned and dignity long dead.
He limped back toward the village.
A war veteran.
A man who'd just fought divine tax collectors in monster form.
The villagers were waiting.
Of course they were.
Already, they'd formed a full ceremonial procession.
Bundles of herbs. Baskets of eggs. Someone offered a necklace made of polished rocks.
An elderly woman stepped forward, eyes glowing.
She cradled something like it was the hope of the world.
"Please, Great One. Accept our sacred gift… the Holy Chicken of Ember's Hope."
She placed a fluffy white chicken into his arms.
It wore a red ribbon.
Kyle blinked. "You guys have a sacred chicken now?"
They gasped at his reverence.
He adjusted his grip. Held it gently.
The chicken blinked at him.
He blinked back.
The chicken clucked.
Kyle sighed. "You know what? Sure. Why not."
[ Title Gained: Poultry Prophet ]
[ Passive Skill Unlocked: Eggs of Encouragement ]
The chicken hopped into his lap like it belonged there.
Kyle slumped backward. Let it settle.
"Please reincarnate me before I become a farmer god."
The villagers cheered.
Someone threw flower petals.
Someone fainted.
Kyle lifted his hands to the heavens.
"At least no more problems. Please. I can't stay sane if you keep giving me a crisis every five minutes."
The chicken made a strange noise.
And laid an egg.
Kyle stared.
"I just said…"
And cried again.