My life sucked.
Let's just start with that.
No rich parents. No secret talents. No tragic backstory either. Just a plain, broke 22-year-old guy living in a tiny studio apartment with a broken AC and a fridge that made weird groaning sounds at 3 AM.
My job?
Nothing cool. Just a cashier at Super Value Max. Minimum wage. Maximum misery. Boss was a bald old fart with a spit problem and a permanent coffee stain on his shirt.
But the worst part?
I had a thing for older women.
Yeah. MILFs. Thick curves, confident smiles, soft voices that called you "good boy" just once and ruined your whole week. I don't know why. Maybe I watched too much late-night anime. Maybe it was because girls my age thought I was either a weirdo or a walking disappointment.
But MILFs?
They didn't even see me.
I was invisible.
Like air.
The moment they saw my babyface and cashier uniform, their eyes slid right off me like I was some ad for adult diapers.
One of them was the worst tease of all—Mrs. Luna. Late 30s. Single mom. Curvy as hell. Came in every Saturday morning in tight yoga pants, bought cucumbers, bananas, and always smiled like she knew something. I shot my shot once.
"Hey, Mrs. Luna. If you ever need help carrying those... you know, I'm free after work."
She laughed. Laughed.
Then she patted my shoulder like I was her niece's awkward boyfriend and walked away.
That was the final straw.
So when I saw a cat stuck on a tree in front of her house later that night, I thought, "Hey, if I rescue this, maybe I'll impress her."
Yeah. I'm a dumbass. I know.
It was raining.
I was in flip-flops.
Tree was wet.
Lightning struck.
Boom.
I woke up flat on the pavement. My head was spinning. My clothes were soaked. My heart felt like it skipped five beats. And above me?
A glowing blue screen floating in mid-air.
___
[Welcome, Host.]
[You have been chosen by the Milf Tamer System.]
___
I blinked. I rubbed my eyes. The screen was still there.
"What... the actual f—?"
___
[System Activated.]
[Scanning: Virgin. Broke. Loser. Milf Rejection Level: MAX.]
[Perfect match detected.]
___
"Oh hell no. What kinda hentai-ass system is this?"
And then it happened. My body lit up. Not with fire or some superhero glow. No. It was heat. Raw, tingling heat. Like someone poured hot sauce in my blood. My skin buzzed. My vision flashed. My heart raced like I just saw a mature woman drop her towel on purpose.
And then the real screen popped up.
___
[New Skill Unlocked: Milf Magnet (Passive)]
[Milfs within 20 meters will subconsciously feel drawn to you. Stronger effect when shirtless.]
___
I sat there, shirt ripped, rain falling, groin throbbing for some reason—and realized...
My life just got a hell of a lot weirder.
But maybe, just maybe…
It stopped sucking.
So, I'm sitting there, dripping wet, staring at the glowing screen like it's some sick joke. I'm not an idiot. I know what this looks like. A magical system? MILF Magnet?
I was half expecting a guy in a mascot suit to jump out and say, "Surprise! You're on a prank show!"
But no. The screen stayed there. Glowing. Taunting me.
___
[Skill Activated: Milf Magnet.]
[MILFs within 20 meters will subconsciously feel drawn to you. Stronger effect when shirtless.]
___
I looked down at my chest. It was still soaked, the shirt clinging to me like it was stuck to my skin. I didn't exactly look like some bodybuilder—more like a guy who tried working out once, but then the pizza showed up—but it still felt weird. Like I was being pulled into something that I didn't fully understand.
I stood there, dripping in the rain, trying to make sense of the flashing text in front of me.
[Objective: Go to Mrs. Luna's house. First mission: Make a lasting impression.]
I blinked. Read it again. Blinked again. Then I looked up at the sky like I could somehow change the situation.
"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath. "You want me to go to Mrs. Luna's house? Are you kidding me? I don't even know where she lives!"
I stared at the screen like it was some kind of sick joke. "This is not happening. I'm not some creepy stalker, okay? I'm not going to show up at her door with a weird smile on my face. What the hell do you think this is, a damn rom-com?"
I rubbed my temples, trying to calm down. The rain was falling lightly, but it only seemed to make everything worse. I mean, Mrs. Luna? That teasing smile, her curves, the way she always walked around like she knew exactly what she was doing to me—it was enough to make any guy act stupid.
But showing up at her house?
That was crossing a line.
"I'm not going to her house. I don't even know where she lives, for god's sake," I grumbled, looking up at the screen like it was going to offer me an explanation. "And what's with this whole Make a lasting impression thing? I'm supposed to just show up? Knock on the door and be like, 'Hey, Mrs. Luna, I'm your friendly neighborhood weirdo with a magical MILF Magnet?'"
The screen didn't respond. The damn thing was just floating there, blinking at me, mocking me in its digital silence.
[Objective Update: Mrs. Luna's affection increased. +5 points.]
"Points? Are you serious right now?" I said out loud, my frustration growing. "I haven't even done anything, and I'm somehow getting 'affection' points? This is insane."
I shook my head. "I'm not a damn stalker. I don't even know how to find her. She comes to the store once a week and buys cucumbers and bananas. What the hell am I supposed to do with that info? Start Googling 'single moms in yoga pants near me?'"
I looked at the glowing screen one last time.
"Not happening, system," I muttered, gritting my teeth. "I'm not playing along with your twisted little game."