"Bitch! You stupid, thieving sea slug! Thought you could rob me?! Take this, you dollar-store acorn! Take this!!" BAM!—right hook. PUNCH!—left jab. SCHLICK!—...something very moist just happened. That was Rae. The horniest dumbass this world has ever cursed into existence. Nineteen, skinny as a noodle, and fueled by a mix of poverty and perversion, Rae wasn't your typical thief. No, he was a full-blown bedroom bandit, with a raging obsession for stealing not just jewelry—but glimpses of rich madames sleeping in silk nighties so thin they could be mistaken for fog. Rich madames? Oh, baby—they were the crème brûlée of bedtime voyeurism. Silk robes that looked painted on, lace lingerie imported from gods-only-know-where. "How was our little performance, huh?! Huh?! You like that, you ankle-biting raccoon?" STOMP! STOMP! SQUELCH! His ribs were probably doing Morse code by now, begging for mercy. Tonight was supposed to be a goddamn festival for Rae's double life. He had the perfect house scoped out: husband away, wife alone, and oh lord, her body was the kind that made celibate monks question life choices. But instead of a lonely temptress in sheer silk, he walked in on her getting her ovaries rearranged by a man built like a meat golem. A cop, no less. A tree-trunk of a man whose biceps had biceps. By the time Rae tiptoed into the mansion like a broke-ass ninja, he was greeted by the unmistakable soundtrack of moans, slaps, and skin-on-skin applause echoing down the hall. Did he care that the wife was cheating? Pfft. That just meant bonus content for the night. Not only would he get to loot the place, but he'd also get front-row seats to the rich madame's majestic melons in full, high-definition jiggle mode. The door was wide open, like destiny itself was inviting him in with jazz hands. The lovers were deep into their cardio session, too busy rearranging each other's guts to notice a scrawny thief in the doorway. Rae slipped in, crouched in the shadows, and proceeded to beat his meat like it owed him money. All was going smoothly—mission complete—he zipped up, grinning like a perv who just won the lottery. It was time to go treasure-hunting while they were still tangled up in bed and heavy breathing. And then... fate struck. In his moment of post-pleasure bliss, Rae had forgotten one very important detail:He had redecorated the hardwood floor with his baby gravy. So when he took that victorious first step toward the hallway, his foot landed on his own slippery sin like it was a banana peel in Mario Kart. WHAM. He fell. Face first. Like an idiot. Right into his own freshly-squeezed shame. If there were gods watching, they were definitely laughing. Of course, the loud THUD scared the absolute hell out of the couple. The woman shrieked like a kettle left on high, and the man jumped off the bed, scrambling to grab his pants mid-thrust like he was Batman getting caught changing. For a second, they thought her husband had come back early and was about to bust in like a low-budget soap opera. But then... they saw Rae. A scrawny little thief, flopping around on the floor like a fish that regretted its life choices. The officer blinked, then let out a loud, booming laugh—the kind of laugh villains make when the hero slips on a banana peel mid-monologue. "Unlucky night to sneak in, boy. If it was yesterday, this bitch would've devoured you whole," the man cackled. Stomp. Bash. Whack. The beatdown began. Rae didn't even try to resist. He just lay there like a limp tortilla, getting stomped out, while admiring the woman's thicc silhouette perched on the edge of the bed. She was smiling at him—smiling like some sultry angel of death. "Shut up, Jay. I'm not a whore. But we also can't let the boy go now that he knows our little secret. Finish him off and then climb back up. You're staying the night anyway—robbery and all." And just like that, she tossed the situation aside like last season's purse, and stretched out on the bed as if she hadn't just sentenced a man to death like it was Tuesday brunch. Rae, the poor bastard, just closed his eyes and accepted his fate. He didn't scream. He didn't beg. He simply smiled through a bloody nose, one eye swollen, a single tear rolling down his cheek like a scene from a tragic anime ending. "All I ever wanted... was a life of luxury and a harem of big-busted, big-booty goddesses." Was that too much to ask? Was dreaming a crime now? He smiled one last time, vision fading like the battery on a bootleg phone, and just like that... Goodbye, world. Rae was gone. Or was he? . .. ... [Conditions met...] [Initialising system...] [Welcome to the perverted system, host..] . . . . . Lads, gentlemen, and fellow mentally compromised individuals, toss your last two brain cells into the bin, because you won't be needing them anymore. Welcome to another degenerate adventure???? Read. Laugh. Wank. Sleep.