Bab 2: Fat Otaku
{A/N: Drop a comment, or I'm officially canceling all future smut chapters. Your choice. :) Don't test me—I've got the "delete" button ready and waiting.}
Third Person Pov
The liquid that had taken a human form inside Aiko's womb suddenly started to grow, becoming more and more human-like with each passing moment. At this rate, it's like the little guy might win Dragon Halloween next year.
And slowly, but surely, a consciousness was starting to develop within it.
...
..
.
First Person Pov
"Who am I? Where am I?"
The questions rattled around in my skull like loose change, the only fragments of coherence I had in this weird abyss.
Some folks might call this "gaining consciousness," but let's not kid ourselves—I didn't have the faintest clue what was happening.
Labels? Context? A comforting "Welcome to Life" manual? Nope. Just raw, confusing awareness and a whole lot of nothing to work with. Great start, right?
Around me was nothing but darkness. Not the regular kind, though—this was darkness with a grudge.
It wasn't just there; it was involved. It clung to me, seeped into me, smothered me like some slimy, sentient swamp creature.
If darkness could mug someone in a back alley, this was it.
And then there was the goo. Oh, the goo. Thick, heavy, and somehow alive, it surrounded me like I was a prized pickle soaking in brine.
Not that I could touch it, exactly—it was more like feeling something with your soul.
Disgusting, right? It made me want to gag, except I didn't even know if I had a throat.
The space I was trapped in? Soft, squishy, and disturbingly warm, like the inside of a grossly oversized stress ball.
Each attempt to move just resulted in the fleshy walls pressing back against me, reminding me that, yep, I was definitely stuck in some kind of biological jail cell.
Super comforting.
My body? Tiny. Like really tiny. I could sense its shape, but moving it was about as productive as screaming into a void.
I tried twitching, stretching, and even a desperate full-body flail, but nope. My limbs just ignored me. They might as well have been decorative noodles.
And my brain? A blank slate, except for this bizarre understanding of language.
Words and concepts floated around in my mind, like puzzle pieces without a picture.
Who taught me these? Why did I know them? No answers, just questions stacking up like an annoying pop quiz I never studied for.
The worst part? Time didn't exist here. I was just floating, suffocating in this goo-filled nightmare.
Occasionally, faint vibrations rippled through the liquid, like someone outside was tapping on the walls of my fleshy prison.
Was it curiosity? Malice? No clue. All I knew was it felt like I was the unwilling star of some cosmic horror cooking show.
I would've screamed if I could, but even breathing seemed optional. Instead, I just felt like I was suffocating, over and over, every second dragging me closer to what I assumed was madness.
69 Days Later
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUCKING DARKNESS!" The words roared in my mind, echoing like a lunatic's anthem.
Was it day 69? Day 100? Day 7,000? Who knows? Time here was more useless than my limp noodle limbs.
What I did know was that I had officially lost it. Gone, baby. Straight off the edge of sanity.
I wanted to move, but nope.
I wanted to scream, but still nope.
I wanted to tear this cage apart with my bare hands, but guess what? Not happening.
My life had turned into a one-man episode of Survivor, except instead of an island, I got trapped in slimy hell.
"FUCK IT! FUCK IT! FUCK IT! FUCK IT!" The words repeated like a mantra, every syllable a futile middle finger to the universe.
I couldn't breathe anymore—not that I even needed to, apparently—but it felt like I was suffocating. Every second stretched out into an eternity of slimy despair.
This wasn't existence. It was some cruel cosmic joke. A bad punchline with no one left to laugh at it except me.
If this was my introduction to life, whoever signed me up for this?
I will find you. And you will pay!
Third Person Pov
While our MC was on the verge of losing his sanity from the mess he had unknowingly gotten himself into, something else was happening.
...
..
Okay, okay. Not elsewhere. It was actually happening inside Aiko's womb. In MC's body, to be specific. Someone—or something—was trying to make its way into his body and do... well, let's just say not-so-PG( Naughty)things with it.
...
Bruh, don't even think about it. I see those gears turning in your head. Don't you dare go there. You naughty, twisted bastards!
Seriously though, don't even entertain the thought. It's No Nut November.
.....
"HAHAHAHAHA! I can finally reincarnate into an anime world and build a harem full of MILFs!" a fat, old-looking soul bellowed dramatically into the void, its stubby hands raised towards the nonexistent sky in sheer determination.
"AND I'LL GET LOLIS TOO!"
Bro really said the quiet part out loud. Lucky for him, there's no FBI in this void, or they'd be pulling up with helicopters to chop something off he'd definitely miss.
This was Max—a hardcore otaku from the 21st century, now reduced to a floating blob of regret and questionable life choices.
How did he die, you ask? Oh, nothing noble or heroic.
Our boy Max managed to clock out while ahem enjoying some "quality" time with a hentai featuring… uh, horse girls running.
Yeah, I'm not judging, but even the void feels awkward now.
Anyway, after his untimely demise, Max found himself in this dark, endless space where he met some deity who claimed to be a god.
Apparently, Max's death wasn't part of the grand plan. Big man upstairs accidentally knocked him off, which is a hell of a "whoops."
To make amends, the god offered Max the standard-issue reincarnation package: three wishes before being sent off to a new life.
But of course, Max being that guy, decided to get clever. He crammed as many powers as he could into those three wishes like a broke college kid stuffing free pizza into their pockets.
Bad move.
Turns out, gods don't appreciate loophole abuse.
This enraged that god, who punished Max severely by spanking his butt for an hour.
{A/N: You get the reference? No? Nevermind. Moving on.}
This wasn't something Max had ever read about in reincarnation fics, so naturally, he was both shocked and outraged.
"Why me?!" he wailed. Well, the answer's simple: Max had zero rizz and absolutely no plot armor. Life (and death) was just built different for him.
In the end, Max barely managed to squeeze out a single wish: to reincarnate in a random anime world. But there was a catch—a big one.
It wouldn't be a standard reincarnation. Instead, it would be transmigration. This meant he'd have to straight-up murder someone and hijack their body.
Still, Max wasn't sweating it. With the god's help, he figured it'd be a breeze. After all, nothing would stand between him and his dream of building the ultimate harem. Right?
Right…?
"Sorry, kiddo, but you gotta sacrifice your life for the greater good," the fat-ass soul declared smugly as he began the process of taking over the body of a child he had carefully chosen.
According to the god he met earlier, taking over the body of an unborn child was supposed to be easy—practically child's play.
But bro forgot one crucial thing... he wasn't the protagonist. And the kid he was trying to take over?
Yeah, that kid might as well be the goddamn golden child of the universe—a literal magnet for luck and the current sugar daddy for Fortune's children.
Suddenly, a blinding light burst into the void, which—plot twist—was actually the mind space of the supposed victim.
"Ugh!" The fat-ass soul squawked in agony, his non-existent eyes squeezed shut as the light engulfed him.
He didn't even have time to process what was happening before a set of radiant golden chains materialized and wrapped around his spectral body like some divine BDSM nightmare.
"Wh—" The poor bastard didn't get to finish his thought. Out of nowhere, an ethereal figure—clearly the real owner of this body—emerged.
With zero chill, they plucked off his metaphorical balls, then yanked away one hand, one leg, and eventually shredded his soul into countless tiny pieces.
The final blow? The figure casually absorbed the fat-ass's soul fragments, leaving no trace of him behind. Cold, efficient, and absolutely savage.
As the fat-ass soul's remnants were annihilated, the radiant light shifted form, transforming into a majestic Eastern dragon.
The dragon coiled gracefully, its divine aura shimmering, as it consumed the fat-ass's memories.
Of course, it skipped over the garbage-tier otaku nonsense—the cringe-worthy daydreams, the hentai obsession, and whatever "horse girl" fetish that was all about.
The dragon had standards, after all. It only absorbed the relevant and "important" memories.
Meanwhile…
"HEHEHEHEHEHE!" Our beloved MC was still deep in his own insanity, gleefully lost in a spiral of deranged internal thoughts. Suddenly, he felt a strange crack within himself, as if something inside him had just broken loose.
Before he could question it, a flood of unfamiliar memories started to pour into his mind.
"Ehh... what is this? Demon Slayer? Naruto? JJK? Wait, anime? Hentai? Horse girl hentai?! What the hell?!"
....
{A/N: So yeah, I decided to give the MC information about anime in this way. I mean, sure, I could've gone the typical route where some soul from our world takes over a dragon's body, but let's be real—how overplayed is that? It wouldn't be special, new, or, you know… remotely interesting.
Also, it just wouldn't work. Why? Because our MC has an insanely complex origin and bloodline, and shoehorning a basic otaku soul into that mess would be like trying to mix oil and water—it's a no-go.
Anyway, let me know what you think about this chapter and the story so far. Feedback, roasting, or just random memes—everything's welcome!}
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone