Chapter 1 – Dickens Nuttinson

"If you're reading this then perhaps, you're like me..."

"Girls, huh?"

"I never really understood that them too. Well, not until now."

I am Dickens Nuttinson, a nineteen year old mage scholar with a pimp system.

Every boy my age certainly wished to feel some boobs and kiss a beautiful lip before they died.

But not many knew how to go about it. Not even myself.

Now, let's take it down a notch, so you can get the whole idea.

...

Ding, dong!

My bell rang continuously, disturbing my well-deserved rest.

Yes... well-deserved because the week had been full of shit for me.

I was so pissed that I flung my duvet off my bed and onto the tiled floor of my room without even realising it.

I pulled the top of the pyjamas to zoom off and answer the door while in my underwear — I didn't realise this until much later.

I caught a glimpse of two things as I went to answer the door.

The first was my alarm clock. It was a few seconds shy of eight o'clock in the morning.

How is it almost 8 am?

Who even set my alarm for 8 am instead of the usual 6:30 am?

I burned red with rage because that meant I had just an hour left to tidy up, prepare and head to the academy for another hectic school year.

You can only imagine the long hiss I made at this point.

"Oh, it was actually me," I said, making a face and quelling my anger when I discerned that I was responsible for the alarm change.

I had snoozed and snoozed my alarm until it was set to ring next at 8 a.m.

Can't punish myself now, can I? Of course not.

The second thing was the rays of sunlight that struggled to penetrate my room. Only then did I confirm that it was indeed morning.

I was weak to the knees because I had to go back there... back to that academy.

"Can't I just graduate already!" I screamed, not out loud anyway, because I am not that crazy to scream so loud in the morning but inside my head.

You. Yes, you... you get me, don't you?

...

I swung the door to my house open, rubbing my eyes, nearly scratching them out of my eye sockets. They were itchy, perhaps it was from the domestic accident I suffered the previous day.

"Who is—? Oh! Elizabeth."

Yes, yes... I admit. Liz nearly disarmed me but I had to act real quick and save myself from embarrassment.

And that, I was doing a very terrible job at.

"What the hell, Dee! I've been standing here for minutes now!" she lamented, throwing her busty chest at me.

I shifted my gaze from the raging young lady and fixed it on anything else but her.

"It's only been three minutes," I thought. Of course, I wouldn't say that to her.

The last time that I did something like that, I wound up in a clinic with two broken fingers and an inability to use my right hand for weeks.

"Hehe! I'm sorry, Liz," I apologized, hoping that my forced nervous laugh would calm her down.

Elizabeth hissed and stormed into the house, tossing her colourful flower-patterned designer schoolbag onto my couch.

In a rage, she forcefully sat and crossed her legs, allowing me to catch a glimpse of what was underneath the skimpy uniform skirt she had on.

Hehehe.

"Please, hurry up, Dee. We are late!"

I shook my head the moment I recalled myself. No, it was not me... I didn't recall myself, and I knew this because my forehead was aching and red.

It was Elizabeth.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed much later after the television remote had made a dent in my forehead.

Elizabeth's assets still swayed me away anytime. I'd been staring and I was made but I was not going down without a fight.

"Is that a new sweater?" I asked, pointing to the orange wool sweater she wore over the white shirt of our uniform.

In all honesty, I thought it was a new sweater. I hadn't seen that on her before, but trust Liz not to believe me. She facepalmed and sighed.

Her eyes darted around my living room as I watched. I was sure that she was searching for objects to hurl at me but unfortunately for her, I already left seconds earlier.

"Bleh, the joke's on you, Liz."

...

I'm sure you must be wondering 'What the hell is this guy's problem?'.

Well, enough about me.

Now, let's talk a little about Elizabeth. My oldest friend in my current life — Elizabeth Osvenor.

I always find myself, for some unknown reasons, fawning over her.

You can't blame me because Liz was very endowed with a figure that certainly didn't match her age.

"Oh damn, Elizabeth. Those bre—."

Rubbing my chin, "Hmm. Or should I let you guys find out for yourselves?"

I think I should.

"Read on and find out for yourself."

I feel like I already introduced myself but anyway... my name is Dickens Nuttinson and a scholar of magic at the reputable Zenith Academy For Warlocks & Witches"

I just turned nineteen a few days ago and as the heir to the prestigious Nuttinson Family, I am expected to at least be preparing myself for marriage soon.

If only my family knew how hard my life was right now, especially with women. Sometimes, I wish I was like my old man, I'd have three wives already.

But my situation was a sad one. Even a powerful person like myself did not understand it.

Wealth, glory, power... I had it all but still, inside, it felt incomplete.

I could sway any lady to come to my side with a wave of my finger, but that's not it... argh!

But I wouldn't be able to do that without using any powers.

Exhausting!

I wanted my interactions with women to flow naturally. I wanted to learn how to woo them the normal way.

I wanted to feel the thrill that came with working your way up to the top.

...

"Have you had breakfast, Liz?" I asked her a fourth time, interfering with whatever she was deeply thinking about.

Elizabeth nodded. "Mm-hmm. Just hurry up, Dee."

And now, I didn't know if she really had breakfast or just lying to make me hurry up.

Girls, I never ever get them.

What do they want?

Just a few minutes later, I was done with my honey sandwich and my hot cream tea.

Sumptuous. Surely, it still retains the number one spot on the list of things I like consuming.

"Alright, Liz. Let's scram," I said, sighing and feigning excitement.

I took my plain black schoolbag, not as beautiful or colourful as Elizabeth's, as we sped off to the limo outside.

Pow!

I felt Liz's hand sound heavily at the back of my head.

"What was that for!"

Liz looked at him with an expressionless face.

She was not smiling.

That was a problem. Liz was not smiling.

Liz always smiles.

"That's for keeping me waiting and making us late," she blared at me.

"Also, wipe that excitement off your face. anyway, see what you are so excited for anyways."

I chuckled, not because of her behaviour but because her last statement reminded me of something.

It reminded me why I valued Liz above everyone else and that's because...

Liz hated the academy too. Not as much as I do but it still counts for something.

...

"Shit! I haven't introduced your guys to this story yet. Sorry about that. That's the Liz effect."

Climbing onto a nearby stool that turned my stage. Deep breaths were taken. Arms spread out and an erect posture exuding my magnificent persona was established.

Stage lights turned on at my behest and showered down its shimmering brilliance on me and me alone.

"Hello, you guys! My name is Dickens Nuttinson and welcome to My Everyday Life With A Pimp System!"

— Curtain draws —

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