Shout out to Webnovel user and fellow gambler @Bronz_Deck for making this. The spins for Satori's gacha and the stuff he gets are a mixture of my ideas and using this site:

chaosgacha.com

It is made by Bronz_Deck so be sure to give him thanks!

Remember the EXTRA CHAPTER GOALS!

Monthly Golden Ticket Ranking:

Top 25 - 3 chapters

Top 10 - 10 chapters

Top 5 - 15 chapters

#1 - 25 chapters

Gifts:

Magic Castle - 2 chapters(each)

Spacecraft - 3 chapters(each)

Golden Gachapon - 4 chapters(each)

Win-Win Tier:

Tier 1 - 4 chapters

Tier 2 - 6 chapters

Tier 3 - 10 chapters

...

Due to webnovels insistence on censoring most photos I post, there will be no character photos here or on chapters.

If you want to see them, join the discord!

Discord.gg/Ct6wBeSCw9

(P.S. Working on adding more "Cultured" photos for our favorite pillars!)

...

[Failure Penalty Administered: Acute Testicular Torsion (Duration: 3 minutes)]

"FUCK!" 

This wasn't how pain worked for me. I'd been stabbed before, twice in the shoulder, once in the thigh. I'd had three fingers broken during an interrogation gone sideways. I knew pain. I understood pain. Pain was an old friend.

But this? This was nuclear annihilation between my legs.

"System!" I croaked. "What the fuck is happening?"

[Penalty in progress. 2:43 remaining.]

The burning text floated in my vision, mocking me. Memories flashed through my mind. T cool press of a glass tumbler against my lips, eighteen-year-old Yamazaki whiskey sliding down my throat. I remembered the solid weight of my custom Beretta, its grip inlaid with mother-of-pearl. The feel of my silk tie, knotted perfectly at my throat as I stood in my penthouse overlooking the New York skyline.

Those memories crashed against the present reality. This weak, trembling body curled on a floor that reeked of stale chips and unwashed laundry.

I forced my eyes open, blinking away tears. The room came into hazy focus. It was a teenager's bedroom, but not the kind where anything productive or healthy had ever happened. Fast food wrappers formed small mountain ranges across every surface. The walls were plastered with posters of wide-eyed anime girls in poses that made them look both twelve and thirty-two at the same time.

"Jesus," I wheezed, trying to push myself up.

My hands splayed across the carpet, and I stared at them in horror. They weren't my hands. My hands were tanned, strong, with a knife scar across the right knuckles. These were pale, pudgy, with bitten nails and what looked like Cheeto dust ground into the creases.

I crawled toward the desk where a computer monitor sat dark and lifeless. In its black surface, I could just make out my reflection.

No. Not my reflection. Someone else's.

A round face stared back at me, cheeks plump and glistening with oil. Greasy red hair hung in lank strings over thick-lensed glasses. Double chin. Pasty skin. The face of a kid who'd never known sunlight or exercise or the respect of another human being.

"Not possible," I gasped. "Not fucking possible."

[Penalty in progress. 1:17 remaining.]

The pain pulsed with renewed fury, as if the System was punishing my denial. I collapsed again, biting down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. This had to be a nightmare, a hallucination. The last thing I remembered was choking on my own rage as I ranted about those fucking light novels, the one where the pathetic loser protagonist somehow got all the girls...

Oh no. 

"I'm him," I whispered. "I'm the pathetic loser."

[Penalty in progress. 0:32 remaining.]

When the timer finally hit zero, the relief was so sudden that I almost passed out.

"Haah…. Haah… what was that?"

[Penalty complete. I trust the lesson was... impactful?]

"Who the fuck are you?"

[I am Nel, the Administrator of your personal System, Kaelen Leone. Or should I call you Satori Nakano now? That is the name that belongs to this body, after all.]

I struggled to my feet, wobbling as I adjusted to the unfamiliar weight distribution. It felt like going from a V10 to a 4 cylinder.

"Put me back in my body right fucking now."

[Unfortunately, that's impossible. Your original body is currently being prepared for cremation in Tokyo. Acute aortic dissection, brought on by a combination of being poisoned, hypertension, and your little tantrum.]

I staggered to the mirror mounted on the closet door and confronted my new reality in full. I was massive but in a Sillsbury Doughboy way.

"No," I whispered, pressing my hands against the mirror. "No, this isn't happening."

[Oh, but it is, Mr. Leone. Or rather, Mr. Nakano. And we have much to discuss about your new circumstances.]

I turned away from my reflection, unable to bear it any longer. "Why? Why would you do this to me?"

[Because you're entertaining! Your rage when reading about fictional worlds, your contempt for protagonists who had everything handed to them... and now you get to live that very reality you despised. The twist? You're not the hero. You're the pathetic side character who exists to make the hero look better by comparison.]

This is bullshit. I was Kaelen Leone, smooth talking enforcer for the Yamaguchi-gumi, a man who commanded respect with a glance.

Now I was this tub of lard.

"I'll kill myself." 

[1-minute penalty for threatening self-harm: Acute Testicular Torsion.]

"Wait a sec— AHHH!"

[Self-harm threatens the gods entertainment Satori. You can not violate our contract.]

"We don't... have a... contract," I ground out between clenched teeth.

[Oh, but we do. Your soul was weighed and found wanting. Your life was one of selfish pleasure and casual cruelty. You're here to learn, to grow... and to amuse me in the process.]

"Okay… okay. I'm listening." I panted. "Just fucking explain."

[Now then, shall we discuss your situation properly? Welcome to New Vein City! A world filled with Gate and superhumans. Your immediate goal is to gain enrollment in the prestigious New Vein Academy, a training ground for Hunters who battle the Abyssal Beasts that threaten humanity.]

"Let me guess," I muttered. "I'm gonna be the weakest there."

[Perceptive! You are what's known as a Zero, someone with no measurable Aspect. The lowest of the low. In fact, let me show you your current status.]

A translucent blue screen appeared before me, floating in the air like a hologram.

Name: Satori Nakano

Title: Fat Fuck 

Level: 1 

Class: [NONE]

Strength: F-0 

Dexterity: F-0 

Agility: F-0 

Endurance: F-0 

Magic: F-0

Active Abilities (0/2):

Passive Abilities (0/4):

Traits: [NONE]

"Fat fuck… did it take you all night to come up with that one?"

[It did not. Two months from now you'll be taking the entrance exam for the New Vein Academy Hunter Program. Right now, you'd be laughed out before you even stepped through the door.]

"So I'm supposed to get fit and become the hero?" I asked, struggling to stand up again. "That's how these things usually go am I right?"

[Not quite. You see, the original Satori is meant to be cannon fodder. But you are not the original Satori.]

I leaned against the wall, considering this information. "So what's my role now?"

[That depends on you. The System I've attached to your soul is called [The Scumbag System]. It rewards... let's call it 'morally flexible behavior.' The more entertaining your actions, the more Schema Points you earn. Those points can be exchanged for power.]

Another screen appeared:

[Schema Points (SP): 0]

[You'll need those points. Because while you may be starting as cannon fodder, you have potential the original Satori never had: your mind. With that qualities, you might just survive this world.]

I rubbed my face, feeling the unfamiliar softness of my cheeks. "Fine. I'll play your game. How do I earn these Schema Points?"

[By embracing your role as the scumbag, of course. Corrupt the pure. Seduce the innocent. Betray expectations. Cause chaos that amuses us, and you'll be rewarded.]

"That's it? That was my entire life before this."

[Yes, but now there are rules. Structure. And real consequences for failure.]

My hand instinctively moved to protect my groin at the memory of the pain. "I noticed."

[Your first task is simple: seduce and corrupt your stepsister, Natalia Kuzmina. She's a potential A-Rank Hunter-in-training, beautiful, proud, and she despises you. You have until the entrance exam to make her yours. Completely.] 

...

[Your first task is simple: seduce and corrupt your stepsister, Natalia Kuzmina. She's a potential A-Rank Hunter-in-training, beautiful, proud, and she despises you. You have until the entrance exam to make her yours. Completely.] 

"My stepsister?" I raised an eyebrow. "This really is a light novel, isn't it?"

[Life imitates art, Mr. Nakano. Or in your case, life becomes art. Succeed, and you'll be rewarded with power beyond your imagination. Fail...]

"Alright, I get it."

I walked to the window and pulled back the grimy curtain. Outside was a sprawling cityscape of complete with both skyscrapers and floating platforms, nothing like the Tokyo I knew. Airships drifted between skyscrapers, and in the distance I could see the massive wall that surrounded the city.

This wasn't my world. This wasn't my body. But maybe, I could make it work for me.

"The World Is Yours." I muttered to myself.

"Alright, System," I said. "You want entertainment? I'll give you a fucking show."

[Excellent! Schema Points awarded for resolving to embrace your role: +10 SP]

[Schema Points (SP): 10]

I smiled. "Let's start with who my family is and who is Natalia please."

[Your mother, Kimiko Nakano, married Luka Kuzmina, an influential B-Rank Hunter, four years ago. You moved into their condo in the Elite District, bringing your... habits with you. Natalia is Luka's daughter from his previous marriage. She's 18, like you, but unlike you, she's respected, powerful, and destined for greatness.]

"And she hates me."

[With a passion that burns hotter than a thousand suns. You've spent the last four years making her life miserable simply by existing in her space: eating loudly during her study sessions, leaving messes for her to clean up, making inappropriate comments about her friends. The original Satori was, to put it bluntly, a disgusting creature with no redeeming qualities.]

"And where is everyone now?"

[Your mother and stepfather's guild is completing gates in the east coast. They won't be home until next month. Natalia is at combat training. She'll return in approximately three hours.]

I nodded, a plan already forming. "Then I have work to do."

The first step was simple: reconnaissance. I needed to understand this body's limitations, this house's layout, and most importantly, what resources I had at my disposal.

I forced myself to move, to explore this strange new prison of flesh. Each step was a reminder of how far I had fallen—my thighs rubbed together painfully, my breath came in wheezes, my back already ached from supporting the unfamiliar weight.

"System," I gasped as I climbed the short flight of stairs to the hallway. "Is there any way to... see what else this System of yours can do?"

[Of course. Say "Show System Interface" to view all available options.]

"Show System Interface."

Three new screens appeared alongside my pathetic status display:

INVENTORY

[Empty]

SCHEMA POINT (SP) ALLOCATION

Direct Attribute Enhancement: 1 SP = 25 Attribute Points

Gacha Store Ticket: Single Draw (20 SP), Five-Draw (100 SP)

GACHA STORE (Apollo's Divine Casino)

[Locked - Requires Tickets]

"Twenty-five points per SP? So my current ten points could give me... 250 attribute points?"

[Correct. You could raise your Strength from F-0 to D-225, for example. But I recommend saving for a Gacha pull. The random rewards often provide more... interesting options than raw stats.]

I reached the top of the stairs, already winded. "Christ, this body is pathetic."

[Hence the title. Now, would you like a tour of your new home?]

The condo looked like one of those aesthetic posts you would see on Snapgram or Inktrest. The floors outside of the bedrooms were marble and in the center was a large chandelier low enough that I could touch it myself without getting on my tiptoes. The artwork was a collection of bland landscapes, chosen only because their frames matched the beige of the furniture.

Natalia's room was locked, but that wouldn't be a problem later. My mother and stepfather's suite was on the opposite wing. Good. Privacy would be essential.

I found my way to the kitchen and stood before the massive stainless steel refrigerator. I got hit with the desire to start consuming everything in it. But it wasn't my urge. It was this body's habit, its addiction.

"No," I said firmly, turning away. "First things first."

I headed for the bathroom attached to my bedroom. Stripping off the disgusting clothes was probably one of the hardest thing I had to do. I mean, imagine looking in the mirror and seeing jelly rolls where there used to be an eight pack covered in tattoos.

I made sure the water was scalding before I entered. Doing this reminded me of who I was and helped me clear my mind to come up with a plan of attack.

Step one: Clean up. Not just the body, but the room, the disgusting nest I'd inherited.

Step two: Establish a new baseline with Natalia.

Step three: Begin the seduction. 

By the time I finished scrubbing this body clean, the bathroom was fogged with steam. I wiped the mirror and forced myself to look at my reflection again.

"You're not Satori," I told the fat kid staring back at me. "You're Kaelen Leone, and you're going to own this world."

[Schema Points awarded for character development: +5 SP]

[Schema Points (SP): 15]

I wrapped a towel around my waist and returned to the bedroom. First order of business: clean this pigsty. I grabbed trash bags from the kitchen and began the disgusting process of excavating the room. Half-eaten food, crusty tissues, empty soda bottles—all of it went into the bags. I stripped the bed, gagging at the stains on the mattress.

By the time the front door opened, I'd filled three large trash bags and uncovered what had the potential to be a decent room underneath all this damn filth. I pulled on the only shirt I saw that wasn't stained with sauces and prepared to meet my future woman.

...

Natalia closed the heavy door. Her shoulders ached from three hours of telekinetic drills. Coach Haverson had pushed her harder than usual today, making her lift progressively heavier objects until her almost gave out on her.

But the fatigue vanished instantly. Something was wrong.

Silence. That was the first red flag. No explosions from whatever mindless game he usually played. No obnoxious music blaring through his door. The usual soundtrack of her pathetic stepbrother's existence was conspicuously absent.

The second red flag was the smell. Or rather, the lack of it. The miasma of stale food, unwashed laundry, and body odor that perpetually hung in the air had vanished, replaced by the faint, clean scent of lemon polish.

"What… the… hell…?"

The kitchen was spotless. No dirty dishes in the sink. No half empty bags of chips scattered across the counter.

Wait… is daddy home this early?

Natalia rushed toward the west wing, toward his room. If her father had found the disgusting state of the pig's room, there would be consequences. For both of them. Her father had made it painfully clear that keeping the condo in good condition was a shared responsibility.

She didn't knock. She never knocked. She shoved the door open, a biting insult ready on her tongue.

And froze.

The room was clean. Three black trash bags stood neatly tied by the door. The bed was made. The floor was visible. Actually visible, cleared of the usual trash and dirty clothes

And there, in the center of the room, was Satori.

He was on the floor, his arms trembling violently as he strained to complete a push-up. His t-shirt clung to his back, outlining the rolls of fat that rippled with each labored movement. 

His arms gave out and he collapsed face-first onto the carpet with a dull thud. "Fuck." 

He laid there out of breath with sweat pooling around him like he ran a marathon instead of attempting just one measly push-up.

Natalia stood in the doorway, her mind blank. 

What the hell was happening? The pig is supposed to spend his days sprawled on his bed, stuffing his face, watching hentai and leering at her ass when he thought she wasn't looking.

He was not supposed to have a clean room.

He DAMN sure was not supposed to be exercising.

He still hadn't noticed her. He just lay there on the floor, gasping for air, muttering something under his breath.

"Pathetic," she finally said, the word falling flat without her usual venom.

Satori's body tensed. Then, with a grunt, he rolled onto his back and looked up at her.

Something cold slithered through Natalia's stomach. His eyes. They were different. The same amber color, yes, behind the same thick glasses. But the look in them was entirely foreign.

"Natalia," he said, and even his voice sounded deeper. "You're home early."

She crossed her arms. "What are you doing?"

"Push-ups." He sat up. "Well, push-up. Singular. This body is even weaker than I expected."

This body? What kind of weird phrasing was that?

"I meant what are you doing to your room? And the kitchen?" She gestured around them. "What is this?"

He used the edge of the bed to pull himself up to his feet. Standing, he was massive—both in height and girth. He'd always been tall, she knew that objectively, but he spent so much time hunched over that she forgot he towered over her by nearly a foot.

"Spring cleaning," he said with a casual shrug. "Or whatever season it is now. I wasn't aware I needed your damn permission."

Natalia blinked. The pig had never spoken to her like this before. Usually he'd mumble an apology or make some disgusting comment about how good she looked after training. He'd never been so... direct.

"You don't," she snapped. "It's just weird. You're acting weird."

"I've decided to make some changes," he said, grabbing a towel from the desk chair and wiping his face. "No more wasting my life. I'm going to get in shape, clean up my act. Maybe even pass the entrance exam."

Natalia snorted. "You? A Hunter? Don't make me laugh, Pig. You're a Zero. You couldn't hunt a hamburger unless someone delivered it to your door."

"You might be surprised what I'm capable of," he said softly.

"Whatever," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "Just keep the noise down. I have studying to do."

She turned to leave wanting to leave this strange atmosphere that bloomed between them.

"Natalia."

She paused at the door, not looking back.

"I made dinner. It's in the oven. Nothing fancy, just some grilled chicken and vegetables. There's enough for both of us if you're hungry."

Satori... cooked? He never cooked.

"I'm not hungry," she lied, just as her stomach growled traitorously.

Satori's low chuckle followed her down the hall.

Something was very wrong with her stepbrother. It was like someone had scooped out the pathetic boy she knew and replaced him with... nevermind.

She closed her bedroom door and leaned against it. It made no sense. People didn't change overnight. Especially not people like Satori. 

The aroma of roasted garlic and herbs wafted under her door, making her stomach growl again. She hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"Fuck," she whispered, sliding down to sit on the floor.

She would not eat his food. She would order takeout or make a sandwich or starve. She would not give him the satisfaction.

But as she sat there, the smell of actual home-cooked food growing stronger, a disturbing thought surfaced.

What if the useless, disgusting parasite living across the hall was actually trying to become... a person?