Inner Commentary.

Hugo slowly turned to the mirror, cautiously optimistic. To his surprise, the buzz cut actually looked… good. Really good. 

The sharp lines and even length made him look almost like a different person. He touched his head, feeling the smoothness of the cut. 

"I gotta admit, I look pretty damn good," Hugo muttered, still a bit stunned.

He looked a lot more masculine with this cut, he was even feeling like an action movie star!

Like Jason Statham but, like... shorter and less... y'know, Jason.

Collins whistled. "Damn, Hugo. You actually look like someone who might get a second date now."

Old Rick grinned, his eyes still slightly glazed but proud of his handiwork. "Told ya I had a few tricks up my sleeve."

Hugo sighed, feeling a mix of relief and lingering anger. "Next time, though, maybe lay off the… whatever it is you were on."

Rick nodded sagely. "Good call, kid. Good call."

After he had been properly cleaned up by old Rick, Hugo unceremoniously stood up to leave.

"Uh... yeah, about that," Hugo started, spinning around to face the barber. "This wasn't what we agreed on, man. I asked for a trim, not a full-on buzz cut. I can't pay for this—this is false advertising!" He crossed his arms, hoping the sheer power of his new look would back up his words.

The barber's smile faded, replaced by a lazy but undeniably sinister smirk. 

"Oh, you don't wanna pay, huh?" His eyes gleamed as he picked up a pair of scissors from his workstation, flipping them around in his fingers like some sort of blunted ninja weapon.

"You see these bad boys? They ain't just for haircuts. You ever wonder what happens when someone tries to skip out on a bill?"

Hugo gulped, his mind racing as the barber casually reached for an electric razor. 

"I've got a lot of tools, bro. Tools that can do... damage." The way the barber said damage made Hugo's blood run cold. He could practically feel the threat hanging in the air like the smell of burnt hair.

Hugo swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of the fact that his only defense was the thin gown draped over his body. "W-What do you mean?"

The barber stepped closer, the smell of weed strong now, like a hazy fog surrounding him. 

"Ever had your nose hairs trimmed so perfectly that you can smell things three miles away? 'Cause I can do that. Or… I can take away that privilege forever."

Hugo's face drained of color. "My nose hairs?"

The barber smirked, lowering the scissors ominously. "Oh, I can do worse. You think this buzz cut was extreme? I can take your eyebrows. 

Imagine that—walking around, eyebrow-less, people thinking you're in a constant state of surprise. I've got tweezers, bro. Precision tweezers."

Hugo's eyes widened in pure terror. He could already picture himself walking around campus, his perfectly symmetrical eyebrows now just a memory, replaced by two barren patches of skin. 

"N-No! My eyebrows are sacred, man!"

The barber leaned in closer, his voice a whisper. "You know what else I can do? Half a mustache. That's right. Just one side. Imagine that, bro. You'd be lopsided for life."

Hugo started sweating. "Half a mustache? Are you insane? That's... that's social suicide!"

The barber spun the scissors one more time and then clicked them shut with a menacing snip. "You don't wanna find out, bro."

That was the final straw. Hugo's survival instincts kicked in, and he frantically grabbed his wallet, fumbling to pull out a wad of cash. 

"Okay, okay! I'll pay! Just keep the tweezers and scissors away from my face, man!"

The barber gave a satisfied nod, pocketing the cash and grinning. 

"That's what I thought. Now, don't go skipping out on your next appointment, bro. I've got a full set of tools, and trust me, you don't wanna know what they can do."

Hugo and Collins, still trembling from the thought of living with half a mustache, bolted from the chair and dashed towards the door. But just as they were about to escape, the barber called out after him.

"Hey, bro!"

Hugo froze, his hand halfway to the door handle. He turned around slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y-Yeah?"

The barber grinned lazily. "Next time, I'll give you the eyebrow fade. It's gonna be sick."

Hugo swallowed a scream and bolted out of the shop, his hand instinctively shielding his eyebrows as if they were under immediate threat. 

As he stumbled into the sunlight, he caught his reflection in a nearby shop window, he had to admit... he did look pretty damn good.

[Ding! Looks +1!]

Just not good enough to risk his brows over it again.

_____

As Hugo and Collins walked into the gymnasium, it felt like the air had thickened with something... something magical. 

The sounds of the crowd cheering were nothing more than background noise as Hugo's eyes locked onto the volleyball teams warming up. 

Girls. In tight, figure-hugging uniforms. Leaping, stretching, flexing muscles that were almost blinding in their athletic glory.

Hugo blinked slowly, as if time itself had decided to slow down just for this moment. His brain short-circuited instantly.

Their athletic, toned bodies moved like graceful, powerful machines—machines of beauty, Hugo corrected himself, mentally wiping away a little drool already pooling at the corner of his mouth.

Collins elbowed him, grinning. "Told you this was the place to be."

Hugo nodded, already lost in his thoughts. "Oh yeah... this is... an educational experience." His voice sounded far-off, but his mind? His mind was absolutely lewd.

The match started, and that's when Hugo's brain decided to turn the filter off completely. His inner commentary began to spiral out of control.

'That serve... That's not just a ball—it's a weapon of mass seduction. Forget dodging it, I'd let it hit me in the face if it means she'd come over and ask if I'm okay. Heck, I'd play dead just to get mouth-to-mouth. Is that desperate? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not.'

His gaze flickered to another player, her toned legs moving with deadly precision as she leaped into the air for a spike. 

Hugo's jaw dropped a little further. He could practically hear the imaginary slow-motion music play in his head as if it were a movie scene.

'Good lord, that jump... She's basically flying. An angel, in human form. I bet she can dunk a basketball too. If she dunked on me, I'd thank her. Like, 'Please, more, crush my soul with your athleticism.' And those legs? They're like... engineered perfection. If legs were designed by gods, these would be the prototype. I need to sit down.'

He was already sitting down. That fact barely registered.

Meanwhile, Collins was also in the same state of near-comatose wonder. His eyes followed the ball but his brain had fully disconnected from the idea of volleyball being a sport.

Another player dove dramatically across the court to save the ball, her body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. 

Hugo's mind went to a place so ridiculous it should have been illegal.

'That dive... that form... It's like she's part dolphin, part goddess, with a side of majestic deer. That's it. That dive though. Imagine her doing that in slow-motion, just diving into... never mind, too inappropriate. But still. Olympic-level excellence here. They should give medals for how hot these athletes are.'

Collins leaned over, eyes still glued to the game, his voice low and reverent. "Bro, these girls aren't just athletes. They're... living art. Look at that form."

Hugo nodded, not really hearing him but totally agreeing anyway. "Yeah... art... I'm learning so much about volleyball... and life..."

The match was now fully underway, and Hugo's mental commentary ramped up. 

Every serve, every jump, every stretch sent his mind into a flurry of increasingly absurd thoughts. 

The girls on both teams were giving their all, diving, spiking, and serving with incredible skill. 

But Hugo and Collins weren't appreciating the athleticism. No, they were too busy making faces like they were front-row at a fashion show, eyes bulging out like cartoon characters.

At one point, Collins actually sighed. "Man, I'm never leaving this gym. I might just live here now."

Hugo nodded, barely paying attention to him as he muttered under his breath, "Yeah... yeah, me too... I'll sleep under the bleachers if I have to."

By now, the drool was real. They probably looked like two hungry dogs staring at a steak buffet.

A player ran toward the net, getting ready to spike the ball again, her form perfect, her muscles coiled with power. Hugo's brain short-circuited.

'Is it possible... to be in love with an entire volleyball team? Because I think I am... This is love, right? This is how it feels? My heart's racing, my palms are sweaty, and I think I've forgotten how to blink.'

As the game ended with a final, thunderous spike, Hugo sighed, slumping back in his seat. "I think I'm emotionally exhausted from this."

Collins, equally dazed, nodded in agreement. "That was... a spiritual experience. We have been blessed today."

They both felt extremely fulfilled, despite not knowing which team even won.

The girls waved at the crowd and started walking off the court. Hugo almost fainted as two of them, particularly stunning brunettes, shot a glance their way and waved. "They... they saw us."

Collins clutched his chest. "Bro, I'm not gonna survive. Call an ambulance."

They sat there for a moment, both of them completely worn out from their own internal fantasies. 

[Ding! System Online: Congrats, you have successfully humiliated yourself and your dignity is now irrecoverable.]

But then again, it was totally worth it.

Now, it was time to get into action!