Chapter 6 – Baby Steps

I'm still standing on the sidewalk, scrolling through the shop menu like I just discovered in-app purchases for the first time. Except instead of buying weapons or characters in a mobile game, I'm apparently shopping for... life improvements?

My phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me out of my trance. I pull it out and see a text in the family group chat

Selene: Helloooo??? Adam??? wya? It's getting late

My eyes snap to the time display. 7:24 PM. Twenty minutes have already passed. How did that happen?

I quickly type back.

Adam: Shoot, sorry, lost track of time. I'm coming home now.

The glowing interface is still hovering in my vision like the world's most persistent pop-up ad. I think about hiding it, just a quick mental command, and it vanishes instantly.

"Hm, looks like both physical and mental commands work on this thing," I mutter.

I pocket my phone and start walking home. No, scratch that, I'm practically skipping. If anyone from school saw me right now, my social reputation would somehow sink even lower, which I didn't think was mathematically possible. But I don't care. This is the best thing that's ever happened to me. A divine gift dropped straight from the heavens… perhaps literally.

I speed-walk the entire way back, my legs burning with an intensity I haven't felt since... well, ever. This might legitimately be the most exercise I've done in my entire life. My lungs are screaming, my calves feel like they're staging a revolt, and there's an uncomfortable amount of sweat pooling in places I'd rather not think about.

By the time I reach my front door, I'm wheezing like an asthmatic who just ran a marathon.

I push through the door and announce, "I'm home!" while simultaneously kicking off my shoes. I slip into my house slippers, because I'm not a savage, and this is a civilized household, and shuffle inside.

The smell hits me first. Something savory and delicious wafts from the kitchen.

I round the corner and see Bianca at the stove, stirring something in a large pot.

And just like every other time I see her, my brain short-circuits for a solid three seconds.

Bianca is... well, she's stunning in a completely different way than Selene. Where Selene radiates this bright, confident energy, Bianca has this darker, more mysterious allure that makes her similarly captivating. She's on the shorter side, standing at about 5'4", but what she lacks in height, she more than makes up for in presence.

Her pale skin is flawless, practically luminescent against the dark colors she always wears. The goth aesthetic she's cultivated isn't some phase or costume, it's just her. Her makeup is perfectly applied: dark lipstick that makes her plump lips look dangerously kissable, smokey eyeshadow that accentuates her sharp, seductive eyes. Those eyes are striking, a beautiful teal color that seems to shift between blue and green depending on the light, framed by thicker eyebrows that give her face a natural intensity. Her small nose fits her delicate features perfectly, and her long black hair, tipped with green at the ends, falls just past her shoulder blades in soft waves.

She's still in her school clothes: a black choker wrapped snugly around her neck, a crop top featuring some badass female character I vaguely recognize from an anime, and ripped black skinny jeans that cling to her like a second skin. The jeans emphasize her figure in a way that should probably be illegal.

And what a figure it is. Bianca has this incredibly dramatic hourglass shape, a narrow waist that seems almost impossibly slim before flaring dramatically to thick, generous hips and thighs that jiggle subtly with every small movement. Those thighs look both impossibly soft and amazingly elastic, like pillows no technology on Earth could replicate. They're the kind of thick that makes the rips in her jeans seem less like a fashion choice and more like a structural necessity.

The crop top is... struggling. That's the only word for it. Her chest (which I know from unfortunate laundry incidents are F-cups) seems one deep breath away from staging a prison break. The fabric strains with every movement, and I have to actively force myself to look literally away.

My eyes land on the snake tattoo coiling around her right upper arm, the intricate scales rendered in black ink that stands out starkly against her pale skin. It's a gorgeous piece of art that somehow adds to her whole aesthetic.

Even from here, I can smell her signature scent, wonderfully sweet and earthy, with distinct touches of cherry. It's intoxicating in the most literal sense.

Oh, and she's wearing pink cat slippers. Because apparently, the universe decided she needed to be both impossibly attractive and adorable at the same time. This is psychological warfare on a completely other level.

Looking at her makes me want to get on all fours and start barking.

Embarrassingly, I have to admit that I also… have a massive crush on Bianca. Now, if you're cringing about how easily I develop crushes, screw you! You wouldn't fare any better! My two sisters are drop-dead gorgeous, intelligent, funny, and disgustingly kind! If you weren't attracted to them, then you're either not interested in women, or you're lying to yourself!

"Hey, Adam," she calls out without turning around. "You're late. Selene was getting worried."

"Yeah, sorry, I—"

The sound of footsteps on the stairs cuts me off, and I turn to see Selene descending, using a towel to dry her damp pink hair. She's clearly just gotten out of the shower, wearing white pajamas covered in tiny red strawberries that are somehow both modest and... not.

Her pajamas are cute. Innocent, even. But the way they hug her curves is anything but. Her chest strains against the buttons like they're holding back a flood, and I can practically hear them begging for mercy.

I force my gaze up to her face before my brain gets any more derailed. This is my sister. Well, my non-blood-related sister, but still. If I can control my dirty impulses, I will.

"Take a seat, guys," Bianca says with a smile, turning around with a pot of spaghetti in one hand and a serving spoon in the other. "Dinner's ready."

We all settle around the table, I take my usual spot, seated between the two of them, and for a few minutes, it's just the comfortable sound of utensils clinking against plates, accompanied by casual conversation. Bianca complains about some pretentious kid in her art class who thinks he's the next Picasso. Selene gripes about cheer practice running long because half the squad can't stay in sync. I chime in occasionally, but mostly I'm just enjoying the moment.

Then Selene, without warning, reaches over and stabs one of my meatballs with her fork.

"Hey!"

She grins at me, popping it into her mouth triumphantly. "You snooze, you lose!"

I retaliate immediately, leaning over and slurping up a massive forkful of her spaghetti before she can stop me.

"Adam!" she gasps, scandalized.

Bianca chuckles, shaking her head. "You two are children."

"She started it," I say through a mouthful of pasta.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Bianca rolls her eyes but smiles. "Anyway, have you guys seen this new anime that just started airing? It's about this girl who gets isekai'd into a dating sim, but she's the villain, and—"

She keeps talking, but my mind starts to drift. Not because I'm not interested, Bianca's taste in anime is usually solid, but because I'm just... content. Sitting here, eating dinner, listening to my sisters banter. It's simple. Normal. And for a moment, I think: if these days could last forever, I'd be happy.

After dinner, I volunteer to wash the dishes. Selene raises an eyebrow, since she usually has to bribe me with dessert to get me to do chores, but I wave her off. I rush through the task, scrubbing plates at record speed, barely rinsing off the soap before stacking them in the drying rack.

Then I bolt upstairs, grab my towel, and dive into the shower. I'm in and out in five minutes flat, which might be a new personal record. I don't even bother with my usual ritual of standing under the hot water for twenty minutes while contemplating my life.

I towel off, throw on some clean clothes, and pop my head out into the hallway. "I'm heading to bed!" I announce.

There's a pause.

"What?" Bianca's voice drifts up from the living room. "It's like nine."

"Yeah, I'm tired. Good night!"

I shut my bedroom door before they can interrogate me further. Through the wood, I hear Bianca mutter, "Adam has never gone to bed before two AM in his life."

"Think he's sick?" Selene asks.

"Maybe. Or he finally snapped, and this is the beginning of his villain arc."

I stifle a laugh and lock the door for good measure.

Sitting down at my computer, I take a deep breath and mentally summon the system interface. It materializes in front of me, glowing softly in the dim light of my room.

I navigate to the quest menu and read through the list again.

Available Quests:

"Okay, first things first, time to get some points!" I crack my knuckles like I'm about to speedrun a video game. The first two quests look like freebies.

I open a new tab and start researching skincare routines. After about twenty minutes of scrolling through articles that all say practically the same things, I settle on the basics: cleanser, moisturizer, and retinoids to unclog pores and prevent future breakouts.

I pull up Emezon and start adding products to my cart. Cleanser, moisturizer, and some fancy retinoid serum that has five stars and a suspiciously high number of reviews. I hit checkout and wince at the total.

"Well, that's a hundred dollars down the drain..." I mutter. My freelancing savings are taking a hit. I do some quick mental math. "A hundred dollars for a point? So my net worth is... twenty-three points?"

I glance at the shop menu again, specifically at the section I'd been eyeing earlier.

"So I could afford two inches for my dick?"

I pause.

"...That's worth it."

I shake my head and close the shopping tab. Focus, Adam. One step at a time.

Next up: working out.

I spend another fifteen minutes reading about beginner workout routines. Most of them seem designed for people who already have some baseline level of fitness, which I definitely do not. But I do find some simple workouts that look doable: push-ups, squats, planks, and jumping jacks.

I clear some space in my room, get down on the floor, and attempt a push-up.

My arms immediately buckle.

Okay. Knee push-ups it is.

I manage five of those before my arms start shaking. Then I move on to squats, which I quickly realize I can't do properly yet, so I improvise by sitting on the edge of my bed and standing back up. It's pathetic, but it counts.

Next, I try a plank. I last about five seconds before collapsing onto the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

Finally, I do five jumping jacks. Five. That's it. That's all I can manage.

I repeat this pathetic excuse for a workout routine for three sets.

After I finish, I lie on my floor, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding.

"...This is far from a hundred push-ups, a hundred sit-ups, a hundred squats, and a ten-kilometer run," I wheeze. "But it's a start."

I drag myself onto my bed and collapse face-first into my pillow.

Ding!

The sound is like music to my ears. I roll over and see a notification pop up in my vision.

You’ve completed the quest: Start Working Out

Rewards:

I pump my fist weakly into the air. "Yes!"

A grin spreads across my face despite the exhaustion. "Wait for me, my sad, average-sized penis," I joke to the empty room. "I'll make you grow big and strong."

The system's chatbox suddenly appears, and text scrolls across it:

"The first step is always the hardest. I'm proud of you."

My throat tightens unexpectedly. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "You can't just hit me in the emotions without warning," I mumble, my voice cracking slightly. "That's cheating..."

But I'm smiling. I'm exhausted, sweaty, and my muscles are screaming, but I'm smiling.

I close my eyes, still grinning like an idiot, and let sleep take me.

Tomorrow's going to be a good day.