When the Original Sub-Male Lead Got TS'd Into a Grandmother 2
'Damn it, move! Please, just move!'
To escape the approaching hell, Asrion's mind thrashed wildly in desperation. Right now, his body was tightly bound by a massive, extra-large jelly worm. He tried to summon mana somehow to snap the candy chains, but this witch seemed to have mana overflowing in her body yet hadn't properly formed even a single mana circle. Asrion, unable to move a muscle, could do absolutely nothing.
'Me, the heir to the Mage Tower, tied up by this cheap jelly worm crap? This can't be happening!'
Asrion wailed inwardly in utter misery. But his flesh was under strict system control. Within the script Rian had scripted, Asrion's mouth trembled and opened against his will, completely divorced from his intentions. And from it burst the witch's raspy, grotesquely cracked voice.
"Y-you devilish little brats… What the hell are you trying to do to me?!"
The moment the line escaped, chills ran down Asrion's spine. An unknown terror and anxiety bubbling up from the depths of the witch's soul. The primal fear felt by an old woman who'd lived her whole life dependent on sweets, now facing an unfamiliar bitterness—it synced straight into Asrion's brain. Asrion himself was gripped by terror too. As a result, the witch's emotions mixed with his own fear, doubling the horror.
'Save me. Someone, please get me out of here!'
His desperate inner plea went unheard. Instead, a horrific stench assaulted his senses, heralding the prelude to hell. In the center of the candy house sat a massive iron cauldron. Inside, some unidentified brown liquid bubbled furiously. It utterly demolished the candy house's signature sweet vanilla and chocolate scents. In their place reigned a stuffy, sour stench reminiscent of rotten feet and foul body odor—a truly vile reek.
'Urk! What the hell is this rotten smell? They're definitely brewing poison in there!'
Asrion bitterly cursed his perfectly synced olfactory system. Nausea welled up, but the jelly worm bindings didn't even allow dry heaves. That's when Gretel, sleeves rolled up, scooped a bowlful of the nightmare liquid and approached.
"Here you go, Granny. Say ahh."
The innocent smile of an eight-year-old girl, pure and bright. But to Asrion, it was more terrifying than a demon's grin.
"I added super-bitter motherwort to the three-year-old arrowroot I dug up from the forest yesterday, then had Gerdy ferment it with her magic into a thick miso soup base, and boiled it down big-time. It's a special tonic that'll completely overhaul your gut microbiome with good bacteria."
A biochemical weapon packaged as "tonic." Asrion recoiled at the visuals: thick brown sludge with unidentified bean grains bobbing on top.
"G-get that away! Shove off! I don't eat anything but cupcakes!"
The witch's mouth desperately spat lines of resistance. But Hansel, stepping up beside her, clicked his tongue and gripped her jaw hard.
"Tsk tsk, Granny, you've got such picky eating habits. Bitter stuff's good for you, remember? Think of it as medicine and chug it down!"
Hansel's grip wasn't that of a ten-year-old. Asrion's jaw was forcibly pried open. Gretel mercilessly tilted the bowl, pouring the miso-arrowroot sludge straight into the witch's mouth.
'No! Nooooo!!!'
Gulp.
The moment the thick liquid slid down his throat, Asrion's sanity snapped clean.
"Gaaahhh!! Kek, cough cough! P-poison! You fed me poison, you devil spawns!!"
His taste buds screamed in agony. Asrion, the noble young master raised on premium ingredients and refined sweetness his whole life. The witch's tongue, soaked in sugar and syrup for decades. The funky bean savoriness of the miso and the extreme bitterness of the motherwort hit both tongues at once—a taste terror on the level of hellfire.
The witch's body convulsed wildly, eyes rolling back, thrashing against the chair bindings. Asrion's mind, too, retched violently from the horrific flavor and stench, flailing in torment. But hell had only just begun.
A bloodcurdling detox boot camp. Inside the virtual reality server with time acceleration, a merciless, nightmarish week flew by, independent of real-world time.
"Alright, no refined carbs to spike your blood sugar. Packed it with rough fiber and high-quality protein instead."
Hansel layered pumpkin leaves and boiled cabbage the size of an adult face. On top, a spoonful of rough barley rice, thickly fermented fish sauce, raw garlic, and spicy peppers piled into a baseball-sized wrap.
"Here, Granny. Eat it with potassium-rich veggies to flush out the sodium from the fish sauce. Say ahh!"
The massive wrap was shoved in mercilessly. The tongue-searing spiciness of raw garlic and the nose-piercing fishy stink brought waterfall tears from the witch's eyes.
'Spicy! It's burning me alive! Water! Please, water!'
Deprived of sweets, the witch's body hit critical sugar withdrawal. Her whole frame shook like a leaf, head pounding like it might split.
But Hansel and Gretel showed no mercy.
"Whoa there, withdrawal symptoms. This is when you need more fiber to get healthy."
"Exactly. It's all for your own good, Granny. Hang in there!"
They endlessly crammed bitter dandelion salad and sour fermented jelly into her mouth. The candy house walls, once sweet, absorbed moisture from the cauldron's miso fumes and began rotting soggily.
Days of nothing but crude fiber and vicious ferments shoved endlessly into her gut. The witch's mind teetered on insanity. Asrion's too, shredded by a wellness diet rougher and harsher than anything he'd known.
'Please… stop! I'm a mage! Heir to the Mage Tower! I wasn't born to chew grass and rotten fish! Save me!!'
Finally, the witch hit her limit, bloodshot eyes bulging as she pointed desperately at the massive oven in the corner.
"Just kill me! Kill me!! See that oven? It preheats to 200 degrees! Shove me in right now and barbecue me! Save me from this hell of dirt roots, rotten fish, and shit-miso stench!"
A desperate plea for burning to escape alive. But Hansel looked down at the jelly-bound witch and shook his head firmly.
"What kinda nonsense is that? Human meat's bad for you—why eat it? And with your blood sugar, it'd just smell gamey and be inedible. Enough chit-chat; have another bite of this dried-laver miso soup. Best for gut health."
Hansel ruthlessly crammed a handful of laver into her mouth.
"Gaaahhh! Save me! Somebody save me!!"
The witch's anguished scream echoed through the deep forest. Asrion's pride and soul shattered into pieces amid that funky laver miso flavor.
When the forced detox boot camp filled a full week, a miraculous change arrived. The witch's body had dramatically improved from the hellish diet regimen.
'Huh?'
Waking to morning sunlight, Asrion sensed his vision sharpening impossibly clear. The chronic fog lifted; he could see every vein on the forest leaves in crisp detail. Head bowed in his bindings, he looked at his hands. The gross dark age spots had vanished cleanly, skin glowing fair and smooth. His perpetually hunched back straightened like bamboo; throbbing joint pain was gone like it'd been washed away.
'W-what is this? This overflowing vitality?'
Asrion reeled in shock. Breathing in, the chest oppression vanished; toxins flushed, his core felt purified and light.
'No way… that poison-like miso and grass really were tonics?!'
Logic couldn't deny the results. Rian's VR physics engine and biometric system applied the diet's effects to the flesh. Mana accelerated it even faster than mere eating.
'Insane. Guess it really was medicine. But I'll never eat that crap again!'
Asrion nearly laughed in disbelief at regaining health from those revolting foods. But though his body was fully rejuvenated, his mind teetered on collapse. The witch's persona and Asrion's self synced perfectly, screaming one blind craving.
'Damn it! I can't live like this! Even one minute… I'll die licking chocolate!'
Health be damned—he needed sweet sugar in his veins now or he'd go mad.
'Can't spend eternity choking down those devil kids' laver shit-water! No matter how much real time passed outside, I gotta escape now!'
The instant Asrion's will aligned with the witch's instincts, she decided. Clear morning, Hansel and Gretel off digging codonopsis in the back hills—this was the chance.
Crack! Snap!
Flexing her arms, the jelly worm ropes that'd held firm for a week snapped like nothing. Explosive muscle gain from extreme detox.
"Now… if not now, I'm trapped in rotten-grass hell forever! Gotta escape!"
The witch kicked off the chair with her nimble body and stood. She booted the moldy churro door and burst outside. Her body felt feather-light. Bursting energy surged through thighs and calves.
'Incredible speed!'
Asrion marveled at the pumping leg muscles' dynamism while surrendering to the witch's desperate flight instinct. As she sprinted full-tilt down the forest path—
Rustle.
She ran smack into Hansel and Gretel returning with a load of codonopsis.
"Huh? Granny! Oh no, your back's not better yet—where you rushing off to?!"
Gretel shouted, worried, dropping her load. But the witch didn't stop. She never wanted to tangle with those horror-kids again. Sprinting past, she bellowed what might be her final cry toward the forest.
"You devil brats! Eat it all yourselves! That miso-shit whatever, ptooey!"
The mad witch's roar shook the woods.
"You eat those stinking grass clumps and rotten fish and live healthily for a thousand years! I'll live one minute licking chocolate and die! Raaahhh! Gotta get outta here! Don't follow me!"
The witch bolted toward the forest's far side at demonic speed rivaling an aura knight. Asrion felt the wind whipping his cheeks and screamed inwardly in anguish.
'Please, get me out of this mad hell! I wanna go back to the Mage Tower! No, first—chocolate!'
The reborn-health witch and Asrion fled the forest entirely in pursuit of sugar. Before them sprawled the neighboring kingdom's glittering candy city.
Sugar Land!
The sweet panorama of Sugar Land unfolded before Asrion's eyes.