More Free Chapters👉👉👉
😱😱[Failure Penalty Administered: Acute Testicular Torsion (Duration: 3 minutes)] "FUCK!" This wasn't how pain worked for me. I'd been stabbed before, twice in the shoulder, once in the thigh. I'd had three fingers broken during an interrogation gone sideways. I knew pain. I understood pain. Pain was an old friend. But this? This was nuclear annihilation between my legs. "System!" I croaked. "What the fuck is happening?" [Penalty in progress. 2:43 remaining.] The burning text floated in my vision, mocking me. Memories flashed through my mind. T cool press of a glass tumbler against my lips, eighteen-year-old Yamazaki whiskey sliding down my throat. I remembered the solid weight of my custom Beretta, its grip inlaid with mother-of-pearl. The feel of my silk tie, knotted perfectly at my throat as I stood in my penthouse overlooking the New York skyline. Those memories crashed against the present reality. This weak, trembling body curled on a floor that reeked of stale chips and unwashed laundry. I forced my eyes open, blinking away tears. The room came into hazy focus. It was a teenager's bedroom, but not the kind where anything productive or healthy had ever happened. Fast food wrappers formed small mountain ranges across every surface. The walls were plastered with posters of wide-eyed anime girls in poses that made them look both twelve and thirty-two at the same time. "Jesus," I wheezed, trying to push myself up. My hands splayed across the carpet, and I stared at them in horror. They weren't my hands. My hands were tanned, strong, with a knife scar across the right knuckles. These were pale, pudgy, with bitten nails and what looked like Cheeto dust ground into the creases. I crawled toward the desk where a computer monitor sat dark and lifeless. In its black surface, I could just make out my reflection. No. Not my reflection. Someone else's. A round face stared back at me, cheeks plump and glistening with oil. Greasy red hair hung in lank strings ove
