"Ohh...fuckk...yes! Yesss!!! Don't stop! Don't stop!"
A woman's voice—breathy, urgent—spilled from the cheaply mounted flat-screen TV. Her moans punctuated a stream of whispered profanity, each word dissolving into the next as she lost herself in the moment.
The woman, with big massive breasts, so big, that it showcased her nipples pink in nature and they were like clapping against each other moaned louder and louder as behind her, a man, huge, had his hands firmly fit against her waist as he was slamming himself onto her, thrusting his shaft deeply into her.
Rick sat on his worn couch, eyes fixed on the screen. "Very good," he muttered. "Almost at the climax. Better get ready."
He stretched toward the side table where a half-empty bottle sat. Lube. A coffee table stood in front of him. He grabbed the bottle and smiled to himself. "Time to begin."
He poured some into his palm, rubbing his hands together. "Thought I'd be spending my afternoon doing something better, but... sigh. Nothing else interesting to do. Might as well have some fun, right?"
The headphones amplified every sound from the screen. He rubbed the lube between his palms, then unbuckled his belt, pulling it down to expose his already hardened length.
He paused. "Oh—almost forgot cleanup." He stood quickly. "Better hurry before the best part. Yeah, when he comes all over her." He laughed as he rushed toward the kitchenette.
His apartment was tiny—just a living room barely worthy of the name, a cramped kitchen area, and a bedroom door off to the side. He grabbed the tissue box from the counter and turned to rush back.
His foot slipped.
"Oh no, no—" The words barely left his mouth before his head cracked against the floor.
Everything went dark.
Silence.
Then—gasping. Short, desperate breaths tore from Rick's throat as his hands slapped against the floor. He pushed himself upright, chest heaving.
"What... what's going on?"
[DING!]
A sound chimed in his head—or maybe in the air around him. He couldn't tell.
[Acquiring System... Loading: 0%... 12%... 33%... 77%... 96%... 100% COMPLETE]
[CONGRATULATIONS]
Rick blinked. A translucent interface materialized before his eyes, glowing faintly in the dim apartment.
[Congratulations, Player. You have been qualified for the Forbidden Harem System.]
He stared at the floating text, mouth dry. "What the hell?"
Another notification appeared:
[Player Status: Registered]
"I got qualified for an actual system?" Rick's voice cracked with disbelief.
"Have I... actually awakened?"
In this world—his world—nothing interesting ever happened to people like him. Rick was nobody. Broke, forgotten, cast to the margins. Society had long ago split into two: the Highborn, who lived in gleaming towers at the city's center, and the Lowborn, relegated to the crumbling outskirts. The divide was absolute. Crossing it? Impossible.
Rick had been born on the wrong side of that line, and he'd accepted it. Almost. Deep down, he'd never wanted to spend his life as a useless loser.
But this... this changed everything.
"I don't believe it," he whispered, staring at the interface. "A system. Just like in the web novels. This is... this is *amazing*."
Another window appeared:
[System Information]
[The User will be given opportunities to clear quests assigned by the System. Upon completion of quests, the User will be rewarded with currency based on the rank and difficulty of the challenge completed.]
Rick's heart pounded. His hands trembled—not from fear, but from something he hadn't felt in years.
Hope.
Rick's mind raced.
"Wait—serious currency? Like, actual money for completing dungeons?" He squinted at the interface, rereading the notification.
"What kind of dungeons are we talking about here? Real monsters? Combat?"
He hesitated, uncertainty creeping in.
"It mentioned quests too. So maybe not just fighting?"
He glanced down at himself—his skinny arms, his soft middle, the body of someone who'd spent years on a couch rather than in a gym. He'd never been athletic. Never been in a real fight. The idea of battling monsters seemed absurd.
"Why would it choose me?" he muttered.
"There has to be a reason, right? Maybe I'm actually capable of this somehow. But how? I'm not exactly... combat-ready."
Before he could spiral further into doubt, another notification materialized:
[Player has been granted THREE GIFTS. Please select ONE to proceed forward.]
[All Gifts have been set to F-rank!]
Rick blinked.
"Three gifts?" A flicker of excitement cut through his anxiety.
"Okay, that's not bad. But I only get to pick one?" He chewed his lip.
"No pressure or anything."
He took a breath, steadying himself.
"All right, let's not overthink this. They're starter gifts, so they're probably not going to be game-breaking. But if I choose wrong..." He shook his head.
"No. Let's just see what they are first."
The interface shimmered, and three options began to materialize before him, each contained within its own glowing panel.
[GIFT 1: LUST-BOUND PACT]
Below the title, a description materialized in crisp text:
A binding ability that manipulates the desire of any individual within the Player's rank. Targets become susceptible to influence through their wants and needs.
Rick's eyebrows shot up. "That's... intense."
He scrolled to the next option.
[GIFT 2: OATHBOUND GAZE]
A mental and visual tool that compels truth. Any individual within the Player's rank becomes unable to lie when subjected to this ability.
"Truth detection," Rick murmured.
"Could be useful for negotiations. Finding out who to trust."
The third option appeared.
[GIFT 3: MANA OF GROWTH]
Grants accelerated physical development. The Player's body will grow stronger, faster, and more resilient with each completed challenge. Muscle mass, reflexes, and endurance will increase proportionally to effort.
Rick's eyes lingered on that one. "So I'd actually bulk up? Get stronger?" He glanced down at his scrawny frame.
"That might solve my biggest problem right there."
He exhaled slowly, weighing his options.
"Wow. These might be F-rank starter gifts, but they're actually not bad at all."
Then his gaze drifted lower on the interface, and his stomach dropped.
[WARNING: Each Gift comes with a CONSEQUENCE. Player must accept this burden upon selection.]
Rick froze. "A flaw?" He let out a dry laugh.
"Of course there's a catch."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyes scanning back and forth between the three glowing panels. "Which one should I pick?"
He stood there in silence, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. Each gift had its own appeal—its own potential. Lust-Bound could give him leverage over people. Oathbound Gaze could protect him from deception. Mana of Growth could transform him from a weakling into someone formidable.
'But what were the consequences?'
After a long moment of deliberation, his jaw set with determination.
"All right," he said firmly. "I'll pick..."
***
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