PN (Prompter Note): This is ai slop, entirely made by AI, ok? You have been warned. If you still want to have a read, go ahead.
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Carl "CJ" Johnson stepped off the plane at Los Santos International Airport, the humid night air hitting him like a sucker punch from an old rival. Five years in Liberty City had toughened him up, but Grove Street called him back—his mother, Beverly, gunned down in a drive-by just days ago. He grabbed his suitcase, hailed a taxi, and slid into the back seat, staring out at the neon blur of the city he once ruled.
"Johnson House, Ganton," he muttered to the cabbie, his voice low and gravelly. The driver nodded, pulling into traffic. CJ leaned back, mind racing with memories: Sweet's stern face, Ryder's wild laughs, Big Smoke's endless philosophizing. And now, Mama gone. He clenched his fists, promising himself he'd set things right.
But Los Santos had other plans. Sirens wailed behind them, red and blue lights flashing like a bad omen. The taxi screeched to a halt as a black-and-white patrol car boxed them in. CJ's heart sank—he knew that swagger before the doors even opened.
Out stepped Frank Tenpenny, the kingpin of corruption himself, tall and imposing in his crisp LSPD uniform, a smirk curling under his mustache like he owned the whole damn city. Flanking him were Eddie Pulaski, the hot-headed Polack with a permanent scowl, and Jimmy Hernandez, the fresh-faced rookie who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Step out, hands where I can see 'em!" Tenpenny barked, his voice dripping with fake authority. CJ complied slowly, raising his hands as the cabbie panicked beside him.
"What the fuck is this?" CJ growled, eyes locked on Tenpenny. "I just got off the plane, man."
Tenpenny chuckled, circling him like a shark. "Welcome home, Carl. Or should I say... CJ? Been a while since we crossed paths. Step out of line back in the day, huh?" He snatched CJ's wallet from his pocket, rifling through it. "Drug money. Classic."
"Ain't no drugs, pig," CJ spat, but Pulaski was already shoving him toward their cruiser.
"Shut your hole, homes," Pulaski sneered, slamming cuffs on CJ's wrists. Hernandez hesitated, glancing uncomfortably at the taxi driver as Pulaski waved him off. "Beat it, ese. Keep the suitcase—consider it payment."
The cabbie floored it, leaving CJ's life behind in a cloud of exhaust. They bundled him into the back seat of the patrol car, Tenpenny taking the wheel, Pulaski shotgun, Hernandez squeezed in beside CJ like an unwanted blind date.
As Tenpenny peeled out, tires screeching, the air in the car thickened with tension. CJ tested the cuffs—tight, no give. "You pullin' me over for nothin'? I came back for my mama's funeral. You know that."
Tenpenny's eyes met his in the rearview, cold and calculating. "Oh, I know all about you Johnsons. Grove Street trash. But here's the deal, CJ—you're ours now. Ten minutes ago, one of our own got popped. Officer Pendelbury. Bullet to the dome." He paused for effect, weaving through traffic. "And guess who's takin' the fall? You."
CJ's blood ran cold. "The fuck you talkin' 'bout? I wasn't even in the state!"
Pulaski twisted around, grinning like a hyena. "Doesn't matter. We say you did it. Ballistics, witnesses—poof, you're doin' life in San Quentin."
Hernandez shifted uncomfortably, his uniform crisp and new, mustache twitching. "Sirs, maybe we should—"
"Shut up, Jimmy!" Pulaski snapped. "This is how we do things in C.R.A.S.H."
Tenpenny laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "Kid here's green, CJ. But useful. Now, pay attention—this is your initiation. You wanna walk free? Prove you're worth our protection."
CJ's mind reeled. This couldn't be real. The car swerved around a corner, the city lights streaking past. Then, a strange hum filled his head, like static on a busted radio. His vision blurred for a split second, and words materialized in his mind, glowing blue like a HUD from some trippy game:
**[System Activated: Infinite Growth Path v1.0]**
**[Host: Carl "CJ" Johnson]**
**[Status: Bound by Corrupt Cops. Mission Detected.]**
**[Main Quest: "Kiss the Cop" - Plant a deep, wet lip kiss on Officer Jimmy Hernandez.]**
**[Reward: Immediate ejection from vehicle + $2000 cash. Respect +10 from C.R.A.S.H.]**
**[Punishment: Dumped in Ballas territory, penniless, spat on. Permanent Status: GAY (Irreversible orientation shift).]**
**[Time Limit: Before reaching drop-off point. Do you accept? Y/N]**
CJ blinked hard, shaking his head. Hallucinating? Stress from the flight? Or had Mama's death unlocked some ancient family curse—like those overpowered systems in the Chinese webnovels Smoke used to ramble about during smoke breaks? "The fuck is this?" he whispered to himself.
Hernandez eyed him sideways. "You say somethin', ese?"
Tenpenny glanced back. "Problem, CJ?"
The system pinged again: **[Y/N? 59 seconds remaining.]**
CJ's stomach twisted. Kiss Hernandez? The rookie cop sitting shotgun—no, next to him, close enough to smell his cheap aftershave and doughnut breath. Deep. Wet. Lip kiss. No way. He wasn't into dudes. But... become *gay*? Permanent? Thrown to the Ballas with no dough, spit-roasted like yesterday's trash? Grove Street would never let him live it down. Sweet would disown him on sight.
"Shit," CJ muttered, sweat beading on his forehead. Pulaski was watching now, smirking.
"Yo, Jimmy," Tenpenny said casually, like ordering tacos. "Our boy's lookin' a little tense back there. Why don't you... loosen him up?"
Hernandez frowned. "What? Sarge, I—"
"Do it," Pulaski egged, laughing. "Make the homie feel welcome."
**[42 seconds. Y/N?]**
CJ's heart hammered. No choice. He couldn't risk it. With a surge of desperation, he twisted in the tight space—cuffs be damned—and lunged forward. "Fuck it!"
Hernandez's eyes widened in shock. "Whoa, what the—mmph!"
CJ's lips crashed into his, not a peck—a full-on, deep, wet kiss, tongue pushing past the rookie's mustache like invading enemy turf. Hernandez froze, then flailed, muffled protests vibrating against CJ's mouth. The car swerved as Tenpenny howled with laughter, nearly clipping a lowrider.
"Goddamn, CJ! You go, dogg!" Pulaski roared, slapping the dash.
CJ poured it on, making it count—sloppy, intense, the kind of kiss that'd make a honey from the hood weak. Hernandez's resistance melted into bewildered reciprocity for a split second before he shoved back, gasping.
"What the hell, man?!" Hernandez sputtered, wiping his mouth, face beet red. "You loco, ese!"
**[Quest Complete! Reward Processing...]**
Tenpenny pulled over abruptly in a dark alley off Jefferson, the engine idling. "Hah! That's the spirit, CJ. You passed with flyin' colors. Here's a little somethin' for your trouble." He tossed a fat wad of bills—two grand, crisp and green—onto the back seat. Pulaski unlocked the cuffs remotely.
"Get the fuck out," Tenpenny said, grinning. "But remember—we own you now. Don't make us come collect."
CJ snatched the cash, kicked open the door, and tumbled out onto the pavement, the car peeling away with tires smoking. He lay there a moment, tasting aftershave and regret, the system's voice echoing faintly: **[+2000$. New Quest Unlocked Soon. Level Up Imminent.]**
Pocketing the money, CJ pushed to his feet. Hallucination or not, he'd survived. Grove Street awaited.