The next morning, Coyote woke up still reeling from the events of the night before. The weight of what he'd done pressed heavily on his chest. Every detail came rushing back—each movement, every aggressive thrust with Gwen replayed in his mind like a curse. The more he remembered, the more his stomach turned in disgust.
He turned his head slowly toward the other side of the bed, silently praying she wasn't there.
When he saw the empty sheets, he exhaled a long breath of relief.
She must've left early for her job at Louie's dealership, he thought, rubbing his face.
Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled to the bathroom. He turned on the tap and began brushing his teeth, hoping that with each stroke, he could scrub the guilt out of his mouth. After rinsing, he splashed cold water on his face, again and again, as if trying to wash away the memory itself.
But it clung to him.
Why the hell did I let myself go like that? Why was I so horny?
For years, he'd fought Gwen off. She never stopped trying, and he never gave in. Somehow, he always found a way to sidestep the temptation—until last night.
That night had been different. And it sickened him.
[Stop beating yourself up, Host. Mistakes happen. Like fucking your sister and cumming inside her.]
The words echoed in his mind, bile rising in his throat.
"Is this your idea of a pep talk? I feel bad as is right now, I don't need you making it worse," Coyote muttered aloud, his voice sharp.
[Ok, but if it makes you feel any better, it wasn't entirely your fault.]
He froze, staring at his reflection. "What do you mean?"
[With the System activated, your libido got higher. That's why you couldn't help flirting with Maya, the EMT last night—and why you kept picturing her in various sexual positions.]
His jaw clenched. "So this is your fault?" he yelled, slamming his palm on the sink.
[Oh, by all means, absolve yourself. Put all the blame on me.]
Coyote stepped back, pacing now. "Who else am I supposed to blame? If it weren't for you, Gwen wouldn't have had her way with me. Like how else am I supposed to see this?"
[You can see it like when someone gets drunk and spills all their secrets. In other words, I'm an amplifier of your desires.]
"No, no, no. What that implies is that I feel something for Gwen, and I don't." His voice rose, his anger growing with every word.
[Please stop being a cunt. If you didn't want to fuck her last night, you could've simply chased her away. But you didn't.]
"What did you just call me?" Coyote asked, trembling with fury.
[I called you a cunt. What are you going to do about it?]
Coyote clenched his fists, breathing hard. He wanted to punch something, anything—but what was there to hit? The system was inside his head. There was no body, no face, no form—just the taunting, ever-present voice.
[That's what I thought, pathetic cunt.]
"I hate you. You're one of the worst things that's ever happened to me."
[The feeling is mutual, you pathetic cunt. The way Louie raved about you, I thought you were going to be a fun host. Not this pathetic cunt. I'm genuinely disappointed.]
"Stop calling me that. I am not a cunt."
[I'll stop calling you that once you stop acting like one.]
Coyote's chest rose and fell with deep, angry breaths.
"How can I get rid of you?"
[Unfortunately for both of us, you can't. You can only transfer me once you've broken Louie's records in NASCAR. You're stuck with me until then.]
He stepped out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed again, hands buried in his hair, fingers clenched into his scalp.
He was angry—at the system, at himself, at Gwen, at everything. But deep down, he knew he was trapped. The realization settled in like a stone at the bottom of his gut. There was no way out of this.
"So, what now?" he asked, his voice low and resigned.
[I'll show you your status from last night—and then your current status today. Can you handle that?]
"Just go on and show me," Coyote muttered.
[Your status yesterday]
Name : Coyote Watkins
Level 1 : 100/3000
Points: 100
Skills: none
Women fucked: none
Women conquered: none
Race Win : 1
Team : none
Salary: Zero
Shop : Unavailable
[Your status today]
Name : Coyote Watkins
Level 1 : 1850/3000
Points: 1750
Skills: none
Women fucked: 1
Women conquered: 0
Race Win :
Team : none
Salary: Zero
Shop : available [Perfect Drift (800) and Charisma Boost (1000)]
"Can you explain the shop feature?" Coyote asked, his curiosity piqued.
[Like told you yesterday, you earn points and with you buy skills that are available in the shop. Would you like to know the function of each skill in the shop?]
"Yes, I have an idea of what they do, but I need your clarification," Coyote said, looking at the cyan screen in front of him.
[Perfect Drift : Allows you to execute flawless drifts around tight corners without losing speed.]
[Charisma Boost : Enhances your natural charm, making you more persuasive, likable and irresistible.]
[Which would you like to buy?]
Coyote sat in silence, weighing his two options. When it came to driving, he was above average—more than capable behind the wheel—so at this stage, he didn't need Perfect Drift, not urgently. What he needed more than anything was visibility—sponsorships. And that was where he'd been falling short, Charisma Boost was what he needed urgently. For over a year now, not a single sponsor had come knocking, maybe this would change that.
"I choose Charisma Boost."
[Congratulations, you have successfully acquired Charisma Boost.]
[Your status now]
Name: Coyote Watkins
Level 1: 850/3000
Points: 850
Skills: Charisma Boost
Women fucked: 1
Women conquered: none
Race Wins: 1
Team: none
Salary: Zero
Shop: available [Perfect Drift (800)]
[You know you can still buy the Perfect Drift, right?]
"I know, but buying it would leave me with just 50 points. I don't want that, I will buy it another time."
Just then, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—unknown number. Something about it made his pulse skip.
Without hesitation, Coyote picked up, a hunch already forming.
"Hello, am I speaking to Coyote Watkins?" came a smooth, melodic voice from the other end. It was feminine and exuded confidence.
"Yes, it's me. And is this Isabella Cruz?" he asked, a small grin forming on his lips.
"Yes, I am and I will love to change your life, if you would let me?" Isabella replied.
"I would love that actually. And how would you go about changing my life?" Coyote asked, curiosity and anticipation mixing in his voice.
"Let's meet at Cruz Hotels this morning and discuss your future. I am guessing with what happened last night you don't have a ride, so send me your address so that my chauffeur can bring you. Do that right now," she said—and hung up before Coyote could get another word in.