Supreme Degenerate Lust System-Chapter 10: Mask of Phantasm!

Meanwhile, a little distance away...

"I told you he's retarded, right? Look at him!"

Ellie flailed a hand in Alex's direction like she was presenting Exhibit A in the case of This Dude Is Insane vs. Common Sense.

"That's not normal behavior. That's how lunatics act before they start licking tree bark and calling squirrels their spirit guides."

She crossed her arms, clearly desperate to convince the group to leave Alex behind like an old sock with holes in it.

Keeping him around felt like strapping a live grenade to their adventure — sooner or later, someone was gonna lose a limb.

"I...uhm... agree with Ellie."

Charlotte chimed in.

"Not that she's right or anything..."

She added quickly, as if agreeing with Ellie might summon a demon.

"But... I think that guy has problems. Serious problems. Look at him! He's staring at the fire like it's been talking smack about his mom."

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Charlotte pointed at Alex, who was indeed glaring at the flames like they owed him money.

His face was twisted in an expression that suggested he was either plotting arson... or about to challenge the fire to a fistfight.

Ellie scoffed and puffed out her chest like she'd just won the Nobel Prize for Being Right.

"See? Told ya. We ditch him now, or we'll be dragging his dumb ass out of a dragon's mouth by next week."

"And that is exactly why we should help him."

Celeste countered, stepping in like a saint wrapped in stubbornness.

"We can't just leave a sick person behind because he might slow us down. That's heartless."

Her tone was so righteous she might as well have been glowing.

The way she said it, you'd think she was defending a lost puppy instead of a guy who looked five minutes away from trying to bite a rock.

Celeste sighed, clutching her healer's pendant.

This was her job — her duty. Abandoning Alex would be like a knight refusing to fight dragons, or a bard skipping out on an opportunity to flirt with everything that breathes.

"I agree with Celeste-sama."

Kriss chimed in, his mouth half-full of roasted meat.

"We can't just leave a sick guy in the middle of this forest. He doesn't even have his memory! He'll either end up as wolf chow, or some bandits will gut him like a fish at a sushi bar. Munch munch."

Kriss spoke with such conviction, you'd think he was the president of the Save the Idiots Foundation.

The guilt had hit him hard — the thought of abandoning this weird, mentally scrambled dude was enough to make him feel like he'd just kicked a puppy in front of a kindergarten class.

Now the group was split right down the middle — two votes for Team Let's Babysit the Idiot, and two votes for Team Leave Him Before He Sets Something on Fire.

All eyes turned to Alric — the group's unofficial leader. Nobody had actually declared him the boss, but somehow he'd ended up carrying the responsibility like a dad forced to organize a chaotic family vacation.

Feeling the weight of his companions' expectant stares, Alric groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew this choice was going to haunt him like a fart in a locked room.

He turned his gaze toward Alex — and just in time to witness him leap off the ground like he'd been hit with a bolt of inspiration... or lightning.

Alex flailed his arms, spinning in awkward circles while shouting and laughing like a man who just found out his student loans got forgiven.

Alric facepalmed so hard it sounded like a thunderclap.

"Oh gods... this idiot's gonna be the death of me."

...

Meanwhile...

'Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Are you serious right now? Are you actually yanking my chain, universe?!'

Alex's brain felt like a pinball machine, thoughts bouncing around like they were trying to rack up a high score.

'I can't believe this... I'm unstoppable... I'm inevitable... I alone am the honored one!'

Feeling the sheer power coursing through him — okay, maybe not power, but at least a decent party trick — Alex froze mid-dance.

He slowly placed a hand on his forehead, fingers dramatically splayed like some anime villain plotting world domination.

His grin stretched so wide it looked like his face was about to peel off.

And why was he dancing in the first place? Because his stat screen had just pulled off a miracle — those cryptic question marks had finally revealed themselves.

[Skill: (Mask of Phantasm) C rank]

[Description: Allows the user to change appearance into any human for 20 seconds.]

[Cooldown: 20 minutes]

[Upgradable: Yes]

'HA! I've got a goddamn shapeshifting skill!'

Alex practically vibrated with excitement. This wasn't just any skill — this was spy-level, master thief, pretend-you're-somebody's-dead-grandpa-at-a-family-reunion kind of power.

'Twenty seconds though... Hmmm... that's not a lot of time... But hey, twenty seconds is enough to rob a bakery, kiss a queen, or convince some idiot that I'm their long-lost brother! I'll make it work!'

He was back to dancing again — limbs flailing like a fish trying to breakdance — because for the first time since he'd landed in this chaotic fantasy world, things were finally looking up.

'Finally! Something that actually lives up to the name God of Lust!'

Alex looked up to the sky, puckered his lips, and dramatically blew a kiss as if the divine being was up there wearing a silk robe and sipping wine.

Unfortunately for him, his steamy gesture was caught in 4K by the wannabe hero squad as they trudged toward the camp's certified lunatic.

"Cough~ Cough~"

Alric's fake cough had all the subtlety of a dying engine, but it managed to snap Alex out of his kiss-blowing fiesta.

Alex froze, mid-pose, then slowly — too slowly — turned his head to the side like he was auditioning for the role of Possessed Demon #3 in a low-budget horror film.

Charlotte recoiled. She'd read about stuff like this in ghost stories — you know, the part right before the spirit does a 360-degree head spin and vomits pea soup.

Even Alric was convinced now: this guy's brain had more cracks than grandma's porcelain vase.

"The closest town is half a day's walk from here."

Alric said with the tone of a man desperately trying to manage a crisis.

"If we start now, we'll reach by midnight."

Alex's lips twitched — like he was fighting the urge to laugh, cry, or announce his plans to rob a casino.

The corners of his mouth quivered like he was holding back a sneeze and a fart at the same time. To everyone else, it looked like he was barely containing his psychotic episode.

Alric swallowed hard. Ellie scowled and muttered something about natural selection.

Meanwhile, Alex gave them a confident thumbs-up — the kind that screams "Trust me, I know what I'm doing!" which, of course, meant he absolutely did not.

"Whatever you say, my man... whatever you say..."

His eyes flicked toward the raven-haired beauty — a glance that didn't go unnoticed as she immediately averted her gaze, probably praying this lunatic wasn't about to write her name in blood on a tree.

But Alex grinned like a cat who just found out the canary's locked in a faulty cage.

'Half a day... That's plenty of time. Time to cook up a plan so slick they'll think I'm the bastard son of Loki himself.'