My Milf System

"Tsk. Honestly, didn’t the boss tell that useless cunt we had monsters to hunt? That’s why I wanted to run this solo. That boobs-for-brains bitch is fucking worthless," Mr. Weekend snarled under his breath, shoving his phone into his trouser pocket.

He looked down at the dark pavement. The wet, strangled gurgles beneath his boot had finally cut out into silence.

When he lifted his shoe, a stringy, viscous ribbon of blood stretched from his sole to the mangled, crushed pulp that used to be an old man’s face.

His brows knitted into a hard scowl. "Fuck! My white sneakers are totally ruined! Just like my goddamn mood today!" He glared with absolute disgust at the red gore soaking into his shoes. "Whatever... guess I’d better get moving. Black Lily can catch up on the way."

He turned his back, stepping over the fresh corpse in the alleyway without giving it a second thought.

The guy was just some filthy beggar who had shuffled out of the shadows, dropping to his knees to beg for pocket change. Mr. Weekend had taken one sniff of the rancid, unwashed stench clinging to his rags and completely snapped.

(Earlier)

"How fucking dare you show your disgusting face in front of me, you lowlife?!" Mr Weekend had shrieked at the old beggar, driving the solid heel of his shoe straight into the old man’s nose, shattering the cartilage instantly. "Begging for money? In this day and age? You must be fucking brain-dead! There are a thousand ways to make money. Get a fucking job! There are a million illegal ways to make cash, which is even better. Get a life! Do something other than begging!"

He had stomped the old man’s face over and over, turning his desperate pleas into wet mouthfuls of blood.

"Forgive me... please, spare me! I won’t let you see my face again! Please, child... forgive..."

CRACK!

The beggar’s rotten, yellowed teeth broke like dry twigs, splintering into his throat.

"Forgive you? I’m doing you a fucking favor, old man! Have you ever watched Jobless Reincarnation? How a filthy loser dies a virgin and gets reincarnated into a better life?"

The old man who had no idea what the boy was saying blinked in confusion and pain. "What... what are you talking..."

STOMP!

A brutal kick to the jaw slammed the old man’s skull hard against the asphalt, making his neck pop at an unnatural angle.

"DON’T YOU FUCKING TALK WHEN I’M TALKING!" the boy screamed, his voice cracking with sadistic rage.

Taking a slow breath, the kid straightened his outfit and regained his composure. "Since you’re a homeless waste of space, you probably don’t have a TV, let alone a Crunchyroll subscription. So let me spell it out for you: I’m saving your pathetic life. I’m putting you down so you can get reincarnated into something better. You’ve suffered enough, old man. This world clearly wasn’t built for weak little fucks like you."

Gurgling through a throat full of his own blood, the old beggar tried to force out a response, but his failing vision could only register the ecstatic, laughing face of a thirteen-year-old psychopath beating him to death.

Starved and broken, the beggar had zero strength left to fight back. Every feeble attempt to shield himself was met with bone-crunching stomps. The kid was terrifyingly strong for his age.

As the last flicker of life drained from his eyes, the beggar’s final sight was the blonde kid’s smug grin and his parting words: "Look at that. Helped another struggling soul out of its misery. That makes 210."

He pulled out his phone to dial a number as the old man let out the final, pathetic death-rattle of a dying dog.

**

(Present Day)

Meanwhile, back at the Sad Matt residential apartment, Asher and Loona spoke in total unison: "Shinigami...?"

Secretary Kim ignored them completely. Turning her back on the pair, she marched over to her wardrobe and began aggressively tearing through her clothes.

Loona’s face turned into a frown. "Kim... are you with the fucking Shinigami?"

Kim didn’t respond. She yanked out the outfit she was looking for: a skin-tight, black leather crop top with long sleeves. She zipped it up tight to her throat, locking her breasts firmly in place while leaving her stomach exposed for quick, fluid movement. Next came matching leather shorts fitted with custom sheaths for small throwing knives.

Asher and Loona stood by watching her transform. Once her tactical gear was strapped on tight, Kim threw a bright orange dress over the top, concealed a compact pistol inside a designer purse, stepped into her high heels, and made straight for the door.

Loona’s jaw almost hit the floor. Refusing to let her walk out without answers, she lunged forward, blocking the doorway.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, bitch! Hold the fuck up! We deserve an explanation here. Where the hell do you think you’re going? Are you affiliated with the Shinigami?!"

Secretary Kim slowly raised her eyes. The submissive, pleasure-addled slut from moments ago was entirely gone. In her place was an assassin with eyes cold enough to freeze blood.

"If you want to keep breathing, keep your fucking nose out of my personal life." Her voice dropped an octave, dripping with enough lethal promise to make Loona swallow hard, taking an involuntary step back in fear.

Loona looked at Asher. He simply shook his head. "Let her go."

Loona stepped aside. Kim swept past her without another word, her stilettos echoing down the hallway until the front door shut tight.

Back inside, Loona whirled around to Asher in complete disbelief. "She’s definitely Shinigami! Fucking Shinigami! Aren’t you going to do something?! Follow her! Command her! Didn’t you say you could issue absolute commands to any woman bonded to your system or whatever?! Just do something! You know how vile and utterly fucked those Shinigami psychopaths are!"

She shoved a hand through her hair, pacing back and forth across the room as her brain struggled to process the reveal. To her, Kim had always been nothing more than an arrogant, overpaid corporate secretary. Not this. Whatever this was.

Asher summoned his system overlay, scanning the blue panel hovering at the edge of his vision. "Kim isn’t fully tamed yet. Her loyalty meter hasn’t hit 100 percent."

"Oh, fucking brilliant!" Loona threw her hands up in utter panic. "So she’s literally an unhinged pit bull off her leash?! Oh my God... she’s carrying a gun and blades! Is she going to butcher someone?! Of course she is! I fucking hate how those Shinigami bastards slaughter people like they’re livestock! You need to stop her, Asher! Go invisible and tail her! You told me you could do that, right?!"

"I can," Asher responded calmly. He closed the distance between them, gently brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face, looking deep into her eyes before pressing a warm kiss to her lips.

"But you need to calm down, darling. Kim isn’t my top priority right now—the entire syndicate is. I’m not wasting my hard-earned Pleasure Points on a low-level pawn like her. I’m going to tear that entire syndicate down to the ground before I go back to where I belong."

Before Loona could answer, a rift of spiraling shadow tore open in the air beside them. Rex and Ifrit stepped out from the darkness.

"We apologize, Master," Ifrit intoned, dropping to one knee. "There were no survivors at the facility. The explosion wiped out everything... Your ex-wife... your parents... Mr. Zero... they all perished horribly."

Asher’s jaw set into a hard line, his teeth grinding together at the devastating news. "Thank you for the report. Return to my shadow."

The two demons melted instantly back into the floorboards, sinking into his shadow.

Loona stepped closer, her voice softening in concern. "Asher... I’m so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can—"

"I expected as much," he cut in, forcing a flat, hollow tone even as his eyes burned red while holding back tears. "Don’t worry about it. I’m fine."

He swallowed hard, turning his back on her and walking out of the room, leaving Loona standing alone in the quiet apartment, completely at a loss for what to do.

Tbc