Ray was still strollin' toward the cardio area, that dumbass grin stuck on his face, takin' forever to fade. Every few steps, his right hand would sneak up to his nose for another quick whiff of that leftover "victory scent."
"Man… this shit actually works. These ten minutes are straight-up heaven," he thought to himself, smirkin' like an idiot.
He slipped into a quiet corner by the water station, checked left and right—coast clear—then hurried and tapped that fingerprint icon on his chest again.
Tap.
Panel popped right back up.
But this time there was new text:
[Global Alter Active – 00:07:12 remaining]
Feature locked until duration ends.
Reward Quest will be granted upon completion.
--
Ray swallowed hard. "So I gotta wait till the timer's done?"
"Fuuuuck…" he muttered under his breath, kinda bummed. He closed the panel with a pissed-off swipe, headed back out to the gym floor thinkin', "Fine, whatever—still got time left, might as well smack a couple more asses while it's live."
He was just about to roll up on this chick stretchin' out—
"Yo, my boy! Over here—clean this shit up!"
The senior trainer pointed at a protein shake puddle on the floor. Ray's face scrunched up inside. "Fuuuuck, for real…"
Those ten minutes flew by in the middle of all that chaos.
[Ding!]
[Global Alter Ended]
[+10 EXP. +20 Alter Points]
All of a sudden… the whole gym vibe shifted.
No more SLAP... GRAB... sounds echoin' everywhere. Everybody went back to normal. Dudes passin' girls now just givin' regular smiles or polite nods. Nobody dared touch anybody's ass anymore.
That day the gym was absolutely packed— Ray didn't get another chance to "greet" anybody. Instead he got bossed around nonstop: moppin' floors, helpin' load 20-kilo plates for dudes deadliftin', cleanin' toilets that were nasty as hell after some dude yacked in one (no clue why), changin' overflowing trash bags, even helpin' the front desk check in new members.
Cold, hard reality kicked Ray right in the nuts.
"Ray! Men's bathroom upstairs is disgustin'—go clean it now!"
"Bro, help me rack these 20s real quick, I'm in a rush."
"Yo, free-weight area trash is overflowin'—swap it out!"
Ray could only force a bitter grin and take a deep breath. The hand that was just squeezin' the boss lady's fat ass was now grippin' a sweaty, chemical-smellin' mop rag.
He glanced over at the gym owner's wife chattin' with her husband—now nobody even got close, let alone touched her. Everything back to "normal."
Ray sighed heavy while pushin' the cleaning cart.
"Damn… ten minutes of paradise, that's it. Back to bein' the gym's bitch," he mumbled to himself, but his eyes were still lit up with pure joy—'cause the warmth of that thick juicy ass was gonna live rent-free in his memory forever.
---
Ray dragged his ass back to his tiny apartment around 11 p.m., body completely wrecked after pullin' a double shift. Legs throbbin', back killin' him, stinkin' of sweat and floor cleaner clingin' to his clothes.
"Man, I just wanna die right now," he muttered while unlockin' the door, then straight-up collapsed onto the busted-ass couch.
He hauled himself up slow, splashed water on his face at the little sink, chugged a full bottle of cold water till it was gone, wiped the sweat off his neck with a ratty towel. Finally plopped back down, grabbed his phone to doomscroll before crashin'.
Soon as he opened social media, his feed was flooded with short videos that had blown up crazy hard that afternoon.
"Global Mass Ass-Slapping Incident at Gyms Worldwide?!"
Ray's eyes bugged out—he was shook. Without him even realizin', those ten minutes from this mornin' got recorded by thousands of people—live streamers, gym CCTVs, members' phones—and now it was goin' viral everywhere.
Comments were pure panic: all kinds of wild conspiracy theories poppin' off. Some dudes swearin' it's the work of the "Ass Devil"—a demon that possesses people just for butts.
Others dead convinced it's a Matrix glitch or some government mind-control experiment usin' 5G. Big-name streamers got hit too—dudes mid-workout stream suddenly "greeting" female fans with an ass smack, or female streamers gettin' smacked by random guys who showed up to gym events.
The craziest part? While it was all happenin' live, nobody thought it was weird at all. Chat was spammiin' stuff like "W man, Chad respectin' women fr," but once the alter ended, the footage was still there.
Now everybody's losin' their minds: "Mass AI deepfake? But thousands of identical videos—ain't no way it's fake!"
Ray—the only person on the entire planet who actually remembers and knows the real deal—started crackin' up hard, all alone in his apartment.
"Hahaha, this is insane! I'm literally the only one who remembers! Y'all out here collective hallucinatin' now!"
He kept scrollin' through the chaotic short videos, dyin' laughin' at people arguin' in the comments like idiots.
Kept goin' till he landed on one video that made him squint like what the hell.
It showed a bunch of pale, sleep-deprived-lookin' dudes sittin' in front of a full podcast setup.
"This is the universe's punishment for gym rat who overdose on protein!" one of 'em declared.
Ray squinted harder. "What the fuck?"
The main speaker—this skinny glasses dude—went full serious:
"They have families! They are our friends! They deserve to live!"
Ray let out a quiet chuckle, shakin' his head. "Aaaah, these people…"
He turned off his phone, stretched out on the couch with a smug grin.
"May God bless 'em with some fried chicken," he muttered.