The pain had receded, leaving behind a lingering throb that served as a constant, pulsing reminder of his new reality. Kaelen stood in the center of his room, staring at the floating purple box as if he could burn a hole through it with his glare.
It remained stubbornly solid.
"Corruptor's Codex," he muttered, testing the weight of the words. They felt oily on his tongue. "This is a joke. It has to be."
He tapped the edge of the interface, expecting settings, a help menu, perhaps a 'Cancel Subscription' button. Nothing happened. The text just hovered there, the timer ticking down: 47 minutes remaining.
He walked to the window and parted the heavy curtains. Below him, the training grounds of the Valerius estate were alive with activity. He could see the household guard drilling, their armor clanking in the crisp morning air. And beyond the iron gates, he could see the dust rising from the main road—the procession of the Royal Guard.
They were close.
Kaelen let the curtain fall back, plunging the room into shadow again. He sat at his desk and rested his head in his hands. He knew Princess Seraphina. Every player did. She was the game's flagship heroine—the Maiden of Light. High stats, unbreakable will, a plot-armor shield that repelled all advances.
In the game's canon, Kaelen was supposed to try to grope her, get his ass kicked by her bodyguards, and then be dragged off to a dungeon cell to start the protagonist's rescue arc. It was a tutorial in humiliation.
But this isn't the game, he thought, his fingers digging into his scalp. And I'm not the NPC Kaelen.
The System wanted him to degrade her. The thought made his stomach churn. He wasn't a saint, but he wasn't a monster. He liked women. He respected them, mostly. The idea of forcing himself on anyone, even a fictional character brought to life, repulsed him.
[Task: Insult her convictions or touch her inappropriately.]
"Just an insult," he whispered, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "I can do that. I can just say she looks fat in her armor. That's an insult, right?"
He stood up, his legs shaky. He needed to prepare. If he was going to survive this, he needed to look the part. He couldn't meet the Princess of the Realm looking like he'd just crawled out of bed.
He went to the wardrobe and threw open the doors. The clothes were ridiculous—frills, velvet, colors too bright for a man who wanted to be taken seriously. He grabbed a black tunic with silver embroidery and tight leather breeches. It was the outfit 'Villain Kaelen' wore in the cutscenes before his death.
Dressing himself felt surreal. The fabric was high quality, hugging muscles that he hadn't earned but now possessed. When he caught his reflection again, he didn't look like a terrified shut-in named Ken. He looked like Kaelen Valerius, arrogant and dangerous.
He strapped on his boots and looked at the System timer.
12 minutes remaining.
His heart rate spiked. The buzzing in his head intensified, the System sensing his rising panic.
[Reminder: Failure will result in Stat Reduction.]
He remembered the pain. That white-hot spike that had brought him to his knees. He couldn't go through that again. He wouldn't.
A knock on the door shattered the silence.
"My Lord?" It was the majordomo, an old man named Thomas who had served the Valerius family for thirty years. "Her Highness's caravan has arrived. She awaits you in the courtyard."
Kaelen took a deep breath, inhaling slowly to center himself. He closed his eyes for a second, summoning the persona of the game character. Kaelen Valerius was a prick. He was entitled. He looked down on everyone.
Be the prick, he told himself. Just be the prick.
"I am coming," he called out, his voice steady and cold.
He strode out of the room, the purple of the System fading from his vision but burning in his mind. As he walked down the long, winding staircase, he felt the weight of the estate pressing down on him. Portraits of his ancestors glared down, judging him.
He stepped out into the courtyard. The sun was blinding after the dim interior of the manor. The guards snapped to attention, their spears thudding against the stone.
And there she was.
Princess Seraphina.
She was even more impressive in person than on his monitor. She stood by the fountain, her white plate armor gleaming like fresh snow, etched with gold filigree that shimmered in the light. Her long, blonde hair was braided intricately down her back, and a heavy blue cloak draped from her shoulders. She didn't look like a girl playing dress-up; she looked like a weapon.
She was flanked by two elite knights—The Silver Hand. They were level 40 mini-bosses in the game, and here, they looked like they could snap him in half without trying.
Seraphina turned as he approached. Her eyes were blue, sharp and clear, and they held none of the warmth the wiki had described. Here, in the 'prologue', she was just a cold, arrogant noble.
"Lord Valerius," she said, her voice crisp. "I hope we aren't interrupting your beauty sleep."
The guards snickered. Kaelen felt a flush of anger—not at the insult, but at the situation. He was the victim here, but he had to play the villain.
He stopped a few feet away from her. Close enough to be rude, far enough to avoid a sword to the gut.
"Princess," Kaelen said, bowing with a practiced, mocking laziness. "To what do I owe the displeasure? The stables are that way. I'm sure my groomsman can find you a brush if you're looking for work."
He winced internally. Was that enough? Did that count?
Seraphina's expression hardened. Her hand drifted toward the pommel of her sword. "Watch your tongue, cur. I am here for the King's inspection, not to trade barbs with a minor lordling who thinks his lineage makes him a man."
[Insult her convictions,] the System echoed in his mind. [Touch her inappropriately.]
Kaelen looked at her. Really looked at her. The wiki said she was twenty, but she looked younger. She also looked incredibly stressed. There were dark circles under her eyes, hidden by powder but visible to someone who knew what to look for.
He remembered the lore. The Church of Light. Her arranged marriage to the High Priest. The pressure to be the perfect symbol of purity.
"I know why you're here, Princess," Kaelen said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming softer, more dangerous.
He took a step forward. The guards stepped in, raising their spears.
"Halt!" one shouted.
Seraphina held up a hand, stopping them. She looked at Kaelen with suspicion. "And why is that?"
"Because you're desperate," Kaelen said, the words flowing from him, fueled by the System's influence. "The King is losing faith in the Church. The demons are getting stronger. And the 'Goddess'... well, she's awfully quiet these days, isn't she?"
Seraphina's face went pale. "How dare you speak of the Goddess? Blasphemy is a punishable offense, Lord Valerius."
"Is it?" Kaelen took another step. He was inside the guards' reach now. If they moved, he died. But they didn't. They were confused by his lack of fear.
He locked eyes with Seraphina. He felt the System activate. A strange heat radiated from his chest, a subtle influence that washed over her.
He reached out, slowly, deliberately. He saw her eyes widen. She expected him to go for his weapon. She expected a dagger.
Instead, his hand moved toward her face. It was a suicide move. If she flinched, if she shouted, he was dead.
His fingers brushed against a stray lock of golden hair that had fallen loose from her braid. He tucked it behind her ear, his knuckles grazing the soft skin of her cheek.
She froze. The touch was electric, shocking her into stillness. It wasn't violent. It was intimate. It was ownership.
"Your armor is shiny, Seraphina," he whispered, leaning in close, his breath ghosting over her ear. "But it's just a cage. You wear that cross around your neck like a choke chain."
He pulled back, looking her dead in the eye.
"Does it feel good?" he asked. "To suffocate for a God who doesn't care?"
For a second, time stopped. The courtyard was silent. The guards were gaping, unsure whether to arrest him or bow.
Seraphina's chest heaved. Her face was flushed a deep, angry red. But she didn't draw her sword. She didn't slap him. She just stood there, trembling, her eyes swimming with a mix of fury and something else. Something confused.
[QUEST COMPLETED.]
[FIRST TAINT SUCCESSFUL.]
[+10 STATS DISTRIBUTED.]
[SKILL UNLOCKED: AURA OF ALLURE (LEVEL 1).]
The relief washed over him, cool and sweet. He had done it. He was alive.