The primary mystery at the moment was who exactly was commenting on his life as he lived it. There was too much sass in the messages so far to assume it was a purely mechanical power that had just been granted to him. Whatever or whoever was sponsoring him, it had an attitude. It also made John unpleasantly self-aware.

Jerking off was an integral part of his preparation for the day. Ashcroft was a prestigious private school for students who had already graduated high school. It was also filled to the brim with sexy women his age and combining his frankly ludicrous sex drive with his non-existence for the other sex meant that he was screwed if he didn’t take care of his needs regularly.

That something was watching him to confirm whether he did the Quest or not made the morning session… awkward. Still, for the EXP, he was willing to jump over that hurdle. ‘Can’t hide from God anyway,’ he thought, once he was under the shower, and pictured the female students of his academy. From the average woman, to the sexy art teacher June, all the way to that bully-bitch Vanessa. He remembered the short skirts and stretched blouses of the school uniform.

After he had done the deed, he opened his eyes to the almost taunting description of what, exactly, the Masturbation Skill did. Right behind it was a second window.

Masturbation: Your hands-on experience allows you to get hard pretty easily. Your ejaculation is notably stronger than normal and your balls refill totally in 2 minutes up to 20 times a day.

Endurance +1: Frequent masturbation is a kind of workout, I suppose. The time you can hold while stimulated before climax is partly derived from your Libido score (negative) and Endurance score (positive).

John dismissed the windows with a mild grumble. It was lost in the sound of the running water. A little bit more scrubbing and he found checkmarks next to two of the five Quest goals. He increased that to three out of five through a quick sit on the toilet.

After he had returned to his room, he grabbed his school uniform. ‘Let’s see,’ he thought and attempted to put it into his inventory. He almost laughed in delight when an empty window opened and the shirt disappeared inside – alongside his hand. There was no sensation to that. Wherever his hand was in time and space, it left his skin feeling completely neutral. He drew it back no problem and checked for his shirt in the inventory. It was right there and then it was covering his chest. Just like the boxers earlier.

He put on the rest of his school uniform that way, just basking in the novelty and strangeness of this power. Then he put a number of usual and unusual items into his inventory. His phone, keys, wallet, followed by spare clothes and a couple random knickknacks he had flying around that might come in useful. He hoped the inventory would expand with time. 24 slots were not that much at all, now that he was throwing stuff in there. Some of the items took several at once. His mind was creating all kinds of exciting excuses as to why he would need them. A question also surfaced.

‘Why have I never heard of anyone else having something like this?’ A question that needed answering. If he was the only one with such powers, he’d be best advised not to advertise it before he had some insurance. If he wasn’t the only one with such powers and everyone else was hiding them, he was best advised not to flaunt them. ‘One way or another, best if I keep it low in public for a while.’

Breakfast was the last item on the agenda. That something this trivial was a Quest was stupid. Then again, how much dumber was getting ready for the day than carrying an item fifty metres between two people who would rather pay a stranger than leave the house? RPGs had their weaknesses.

‘Alright, first moment of truth,’ John thought, as he headed downstairs. Soft noises had come from down there for a while now, as they did every morning. The smell of a delicious breakfast played around his nose, inviting him to accelerate his steps. ‘If mom can see the status over my head then… that’ll be interesting.’

He certainly could see it above hers.

Brenda Newman.

Lvl 9, Housewife.

MILF

Brenda turned her head his way, smiling the usual way. Her eyes stayed focused on his face, making no indication she saw anything unusual about her son. That aside, her status created a bunch of questions. Were level 3 and 9 very low or average? Was there a reason his mom was level 9 beyond being older? What were the criteria for people to level up, when they didn’t have a system? And, most importantly, who the hell decided that his mom should have the title MILF?

Of the few things John was certain of, a lack of interest in incest was one of them. In other words, whatever this system was, it was not his subconscious.

Personal disinterest in tangoing with the Oedipus complex aside, his mother was an objectively attractive woman. Large bust, on the shorter side, a pretty face, dark hair and eyes, and only in her late thirties. Whoever John had inherited his average looks from, it wasn’t her.

“Morning sweetie,” Brenda greeted him. “Slept well?”

“I had some trouble waking up,” he responded, half-mumbling, as he sat down. He lost very little time wolfing down his breakfast. Eggs on toast and orange juice, a classic. The moment the last gulp of juice was down his gullet, the window popped up confirming the Quest as completed. “A-anything to do today?”

“Just the usual,” his mom responded. Her eyes never focused on the Quest window. She did trace the motion of his hand when he dismissed it though. It wasn’t odd enough for her to comment on. “Hopefully I’ll catch your father today… he’s working overtime at the moment,” she sighed the sigh of the lonely housewife.

“W-well, I guess he’s doing what he has to,” John stammered and opened his Character Sheet. Even then, no reaction. They continued their idle chatter, while he checked the changes.

He now was at 272/600 EXP to get to lvl 4. If he got other easy Quests like this one he would level up quickly. That was a huge if. Usually RPGs provided levels most effectively through grinding monster fights. Would that be the case here? Would he have to cut down swathes of random enemies with sword and magic?

Magic! This Character Sheet said he had a Mana Pool but so far the only magical thing he had gotten access to were these windows. Further experimentation was required. Bad as he felt for using his mom as a guinea pig, he shot an Observe at her.

Brenda Newman.

Lvl 9, Housewife.

MILF

37 years old

Mother of: The Gamer.

He could only see this, he had no access to her Character Sheet or inventory and got only little info (and nothing he didn't know beforehand). Further levelling of the Skill was likely required.

While getting ready to head out, he used the Skill on everything he could. Each time he did, he lost 1 MP. ‘Pretty terrible design, not to include the cost in the description,’ he chastised whatever deity would listen.

Of course with the low cost and the mild buff from breakfast he had it barely put him at 50/60 MP when he left the house to take the bus. His current regen rate was 0,5 MP/minute, doubled to 1 MP/minute by the buff. Reason why he called it mild was that it was a flat buff. Unless MP was generally low in reality, he expected this to plummet into obscurity before long.

Observe did tick up to level 2, but whatever upgrade there was seemed incredibly marginal. ‘On what scale are we operating anyway? 1 to 10? 1 to 100? Individual per Skill?’ The questions just kept piling up. Standing in the doorway, he opened his inventory again. A new line caught his eye.

2.54$

The money from his wallet had been extracted to the inventory, or at least what little of it there was. He had spent his allowance and some of his lunch money to buy things on Steam last Saturday and somehow managed to burn through his birthday money last night. He was broke once again, lured by the attraction of some fantasy world and polygon girls in skimpy clothes.

If he went to school like that he would have to skip lunch, or he could take something to eat before leaving. It would be stale by the time he ate it, but food was food. A last and uncomfortable solution was to ‘borrow’ from his mother’s purse before leaving. He would put it back later… when she paid him his allowance…

Decisions, decisions.