Tristan began searching...
The room was small and the elite in Tristan could see clearly that everything inside it was cheap and lowly made. From the narrow bed to a scratched wardrobe, one wobbly chair, and a low table cluttered with empty cups. Nothing about the space suggested the previous owner had money, status, or taste.
A frown made its way unto Tristan’s face. He had never experienced poverty but here he was...
He continued searching anyway.
In the drawer of the bedside table he found a phone. Even the phone was old model with a cracked screen but the battery somehow managed to stay alive. When he pressed the power button, the lock screen lit up. A password grid blocked him, but the wallpaper was clear.
The man in the photo had soft cheeks, a weak jaw, and small eyes.
Tristan stared at the face for a long moment before the truth fully landed.
That was him now.
"I need a mirror." He mumbled under his breath.
He raised his head and his eyes searched the four corners of the room. His eyes caught something and he walked towards it. He pushed open the only other door in the room and found a tiny bathroom. There was light inside it so Tristan didn’t need to search around in the dark. He stepped in front of the sink and finally looked at his reflection.
His stomach turned at what he saw in the mirror.
The face in the mirror was the same average, unremarkable face from the phone. Soft, ordinary and completely stripped of the sharp aristocratic features he had worn his entire life.
He looked down...
His shirt was still open from earlier, hanging loosely off his shoulders. The stomach it revealed was soft and slightly rounded, nothing like the firm, disciplined abdomen he had maintained for years with daily training. He could still remember the exact lines of muscle that used to sit there. This body had none of them.
A muscle in his jaw jumped.
He looked lower.
Almost without thinking, purely instinctively, his right hand moved to the front of his trousers. He pressed his palm against himself, then flinched as if burned.
The size was... average. Completely, insultingly average. Tristan knew that was one of the things a gentleman had to get correctly in life, that would make their life colorful, satisfying and fulfilling.
"Oh, no."
Something cold and furious settled in his chest.
"No, I am not living in this." he said aloud, in a low voice.
"Lysander." He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The answer came instantly, sweet and amused;
"I’m always here, darling Host. Missing me already?"
Tristan kept staring at the stranger in the mirror as he spoke up; "You’ve seen my original body, right?. You know exactly what I looked like. And you dropped me into *this*?"
Lysander’s soft laughter curled through his mind. After a second, she stopped laughing.
"This was the only available body that already had three wives attached. I don’t control supply, Host." Her tone shifted, becoming almost coaxing. "Stop looking so horrified. You’ll get everything back. More than everything."
She paused, then added, her tone becoming very delighted:
"Speaking of which... was your cock like huge or very huge or very very huge?" She said rawly, the delight in her tone increasing.
"I know the one you’re currently holding is rather modest. But worry not, my darling host, complete enough missions and I can arrange for a significant upgrade. Ten inches. Eleven. Twelve. Whatever number will make you stop sulking in the mirror."
Tristan’s ears burned from the rawness of her words. He dropped his hand from his trousers as if the fabric had caught fire.
Lysander chuckled at his reaction. "Still so proper even though you’re fire when it comes to the action itself. It’s adorable. Let’s see how long you can be like that with a lewd system."
Tristan forced the embarrassment down and changed the subject with effort.
"Explain the rewards from the last mission. Clearly."
At that, text bloomed across his vision while Lysander’s voice layered over it.
[Reward Explanation]
[+1 Charm (10,000× Amplified)]
One-time use. Must be activated manually. Duration: 12 hours.
While active, the Host’s presence becomes significantly more magnetic and difficult to ignore. People are subconsciously more inclined to listen, forgive, or feel drawn to him.
Note: This effect does not work on the three wives while any of their meters remain at 0.
[+1 Dominance (10,000× Amplified)]
Same conditions as Charm.
While active, the Host’s words and presence carry heavy pressure. Weaker-willed people find it harder to oppose or attack host directly.
[+50,000 System Points]
Currency for the Perverted Shop.
"The system Shop is still locked," Lysander added lightly. "It will open after you clear a few more missions. Until then, be patient. There will be cash, body upgrades, luxury items, vanity rewards... everything a man in your position could want. Just keep doing as you’re told."
"Okay." Tristan gave a short, tight nod.
He looked at his reflection one last time, then asked the question that actually mattered.
"How do I stop three women who currently want me dead from finishing the job tonight?"
Lysander’s voice turned playful and slightly challenging.
"You’re supposed to be the intelligent one, Host. Impress me... Show me how well you can handle that on your own."
Before Tristan could answer, the phone in his hand vibrated. An unknown number flashed on the cracked screen.
He stared at it, his thumb hovering. He wasn’t sure he should accept the call. What would he say, anyway. After several rings the call died.
A second later a message appeared.
**Unknown Number:**
Don’t forget the agreement.
Tristan’s eyes narrowed, instantly analyzing that whatever life this soft, average body had lived before... it had some unfinished businesses.
And those businesses belonged to him now, didn’t they?