1. Brain rot

It was a dumb video game.

"Skip." He yawned.

It was a really dumb video game.

"Boring." He muttered pressing a button on his controller.

He impulsively purchased a harem game without checking reviews, hoping luck was on his side. Unfortunately, luck wasn't with him; the game turned out to be awful. While navigating through scenes, he mindlessly munched on a potato chip.

"God this is awful." Uninterested in the mentally challenged characters and their illogical actions, he considered venting his frustration online, though exhaustion held him back. The reason for his fatigue? His determination to attain a 100% achievement completion in the game.

Why was he doing this?

A simple answer really.

He was a 'Gamer' (He also had nothing better to do)

He had immersed himself in the game for an entire week, not stepping outside his home even once throughout the entire playthrough. Sleep had also eluded him during this time. His room was in disarray, mirroring the life of someone fully devoted to their monitor.

"Stephen I love you. Please go out with me." The red-haired girl on the game screen said. He cringed at the sound of her voice.

"I shouldn't have used my real name." Stephen proceeded to skip even further within the game. While the game wasn't overly lengthy, acquiring all achievements necessitated completing each distinct route with fresh save files. So in some ways it was a full achievement play-through and a speed run at the same time.

He couldn't exactly label it as a wholly negative encounter, not due to the game's quality, but because of its level of trashiness that crossed into the realm of humor. It revolved around a visual novel game where he assumed the role of the main character within a palace. The central storyline involved facilitating the marriage of one of several girls to become the princess of the kingdom, a fairly common premise.

However.

The dialogue and characters possessed less flavor than the mac and cheese he tried crafting. He used the term "attempted" because he couldn't even consider that creation as cooking, deeming it an abomination.

"Oh, Stephen, please remain with me," one of the characters pleaded, prompting his expression to sour once more, yet he resolved to endure it.

He dedicated the entire week to playing the game, pausing only when his bladder felt like it was about to collapse. After what felt like an eternity of gameplay, he eventually achieved the final accomplishment in the game.

[New Achievement Unlocked: No-Life] He chuckled softly at the notification that appeared on the screen. At long last, he had conquered the mindless game. With a sense of relief, he rose from his chair, powered down his computer, and made his way to bed.

"STEPHEN." A voice called out.

His eyes fluttered open, searching for the source of the sound's origin. Had he dreamt and then forgotten? It was a possibility. Shifting to his side, he sought out his alarm clock or phone, only to find them absent. Puzzled, he continued to tap the bed's edges, but a realization hit him. This wasn't a bed, and he wasn't in a horizontal position. Surveying his surroundings, his pupils widened as he gazed upon a naked woman right before him.

Her physique displayed excellence, with immaculate curves and impeccably proportioned breasts that he deemed the most perfect he had ever encountered. Sneaking a glance towards the corner, he attempted to catch a better view, as her long hair strategically concealed her nipples. "Pervert."

"Ehh," he blurted out, his face quickly averted as he comprehended her gaze fixed upon him. The situation was undeniably embarrassing.

"You're going to die." The woman said.

"Excuse me?"

"If you don't want to die do everything he tells you."

"I believe you've mistaken me for someone else—" The entire conversational setting underwent an instant transformation. In the blink of an eye, the previously dark and somber room morphed into a small space encased by white bars on the sides.

"Where am I?" He spoke but he couldn't hear his voice.

He attempted to shift his position, yet it felt as though an invisible weight was anchoring him down, something even heavier than his own body. He struggled to grasp the situation until a silhouette materialized overhead. With one of her breasts exposed, she hoisted him from within the confines of the white bars that had held him captive.

"Am I being raised? What sort of dream is this? Not that I'm objecting." While he was drawn closer to the woman, her nipple drew near, and only then did he notice a tiny hand extending before him. Admittedly, he entertained thoughts of touching her breasts, yet the question remained: to whom did the diminutive hands belong?

"Who's my adorable little one?" The woman cuddled him, pressing her nose gently against his. The realization slowly formed in his mind, even though it felt strange to acknowledge.

He was a baby.

Internally, he let out a scream that manifested externally as crying, and in response, she lifted him while tucking her breast away. "Damn it," he muttered in frustration.

She strolled around the room with him, patiently waiting for his tears to subside. However, his primary desire was to fathom the perplexing predicament he found himself in. Why had he been transformed into a baby? Was this an illusion or reality? He questioned the surroundings, recognizing a vague sense of familiarity in both the building and the woman, yet unable to pinpoint their significance.

"You're dead," a voice pronounced, accompanied by a blue screen materializing directly before his face, positioned so closely that he could practically reach out and touch it.

"What do you mean I'm dead?" He asked.

"Your dumba— you died of fatigue. Who knew not sleeping for a week straight could lead to death." The voice explained, though in a sarcastic tone.

"Hold on. If I'm dead then what is this, was I reincarnated?" Gradually, he observed the woman lowering him back into the white bars, from which he had been pulled earlier.

"Well. This is more or less a second chance. Your job here is to save this world, its politics are in shambles and we believe you— someone who dropped out of college can help us."

"That last part was unnecessary." Remarked Stephen. "What are you anyway?"

"I'm your system— regrettably so but what can I do? Goddesses orders if you know what I mean."

"So what I'm supposed to suddenly save this country's politics? I barely know anything about the world."

"No, you know. You know a lot. More than the developers some might say."

"I hate how you talk."

"Nothing makes me happier than that sentence right there." The system continued. "Remember Eldoria: The fifteen girlfriends that really really love you?"

"Yeah, why?" The realization dawned on him gradually, and he fervently hoped his suspicion was incorrect. "Please, don't tell me."

The system made a clicking finger noise. "You got it!"

"So what? I'm in the game now?"

"More or less and just like 'Stephen' in the game your job is to do exactly what 'Stephen' did in the game. You got that Stephen?"

"How do I turn you off?"

"That's the neat part... you don't." The system made an audible snicker.

"So what if I solve the problem, I gain a new life, or a wish or something?" He asked.

"Well, you get sent to your original world for starters, basically cured of the self-inflicted sleep deprivation."

"And if I don't want to go back?"

"You can always stay here."

"And if I don't solve the political problem? What happens then."

"You die... again."

A sense of unease filled the room, enveloping both individuals and prompting an immediate hush. The silence persisted for a minute, during which neither Stephen nor the system uttered a word, until the stillness was shattered by a single word: "Ehh?"