Jelly Injection

Even so, evening was one of the few peaceful, happy moments I could still enjoy. It was still the extreme early game, which meant the countless villainous bitches who filled this academy hadn’t discovered me yet. The moment I got back to my dorm I flung open the shop window and checked what was inside.

“How much fucking money do I even have right now?”

I opened my wallet and checked the contents. Total assets: forty-five silver. Fucking loaded, aren’t I. One gold was a serious amount of money. Not small change by any stretch. The dogshit bitches who went to this school were rolling in the stuff, but the problem was that I wasn’t one of them. This was a society where women reigned and men were trash. A man couldn’t even land a proper job here.

Fuck.

Which meant I had no money.

The items in the shop all looked like they would be extremely, extremely useful if I could get my hands on them. First things first, I needed cash.

“Okay, so that’s the shop… what the hell does the SSS-rank skill Trainer even do?”

The skill window’s description was as terse as it got.

“Son of a bitch. So personality excretion has to happen first.”

I needed the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠personality excreted before I could do anything, and I was too fucking broke to buy the Personality Jelly. That left only one answer.

“Steal it.”

There was no point applying moral standards to these fucking bitches anyway. I had to survive this academy. Fuck it. Stealing was the least of what I was willing to do. I’d failed a hundred times, but that had taught me a few things whether I wanted to know them or not. One of them was the location of the girls’ locker room.

Isabella kept separate wallets stashed all over the academy—locker room, classroom, dorm, you name it—because carrying one around was “too heavy.” It was a habit that never changed across every single run. Looting just one of those wallets would be more than enough to buy the Personality Jelly.

“Perfect. And it’s evening already. Time to clean her out.”

Hesitation only wasted time. If I didn’t move fast, those dogshit bitches would get me first. In the dim, lights-out evening I slipped out of my dorm and headed straight for the girls’ locker room.

It was the easiest place to hit in the early game. The dorm supervisor was on patrol, but I’d raided the locker room plenty of times before, so getting inside wasn’t particularly hard.

“Isabella Rumion… Isabella Rumion… here.”

I found the fucking bitch’s cabinet and carefully opened the door. Past the neatly folded gym clothes and various feminine odds and ends, I spotted the wallet sitting right in the center, cracked it open, and grinned at the brilliant gold coins packed inside. I swept every last one into my pockets.

Even at a glance it looked like around two hundred gold.

That was more than enough to buy whatever I wanted from the shop.

Rich bitches really were useful sometimes.

Alright. Now that I had money, I could head back, leisurely buy some gear, and start thinking about how to deal with that fucking bitch Isabella—

“Enjoy your little night stroll, dick-fodder?”

The locker room lights snapped on, and there stood Isabella, smiling sweetly right in front of me. I froze solid.

Uh…

How?

“Bad luck, dick-fodder. I never imagined a piece of dick-fodder would try to rob my wallet. That Kamishra bitch keeps stealing my cosmetics, so I put a detection spell on it to mess with her. Never expected to catch a big fish like this. Funny, right?”

Ah.

So that was the setup this run.

I wasn’t an idiot. After a hundred identical loops even someone like me became a veteran. The problem was that the situations weren’t identical. Our fucking generous developers had jammed roguelike sensibilities into the game so players could enjoy fresh experiences and new routes every run.

In short, the fine details and relationships between characters shifted a little each cycle.

This time it had changed into this. Got it. As far as I knew, the odds of Isabella putting a detection spell on her locker-room wallet this early were only about ten percent.

Fucking unlucky.

“So you’ll have to be punished, won’t you, our little dick-fodder? Sleep. Yap.”

There was jack shit I could do.

With no way to resist, I took Isabella’s sleep spell full force. Listening to the gold coins I’d just stuffed into my pockets jingle, I closed my eyes.

I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted to sleep forever. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option either.

“Our dick-fodder awake yet?”

When I opened my eyes I realized I’d arrived in the absolute worst place possible. Even in a roguelike, a few things never changed. One was the rotten nature of the villainesses. The second was the existence of the punishment rooms.

If you failed to properly conquer the villainesses or did something that put you outside their favor, they dragged you to their personal punishment rooms and subjected you to every unspeakable horror imaginable.

“Don’t ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worry, dick-fodder. This place is fully soundproofed with magic. You could fire a cannon in here and no one outside would hear a thing.”

And the early-game main villainess of this adult-game academy’s male student route—Isabella’s punishment room—was her own dorm room. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That was one element that had never changed across a hundred runs.

Looking at the walls sealed tight with perfect soundproofing and shock-absorption magic, every scrap of PTSD I’d accumulated came flooding back at once. I trembled as I looked down at my own body.

Ah.

Fuck.

I was locked into the absolute worst punishment.

“Know what this is? I call it the Greed Horse.”

A dildo was jammed into my ass. A thin tube was shoved into my urethra. I was sitting on the wooden horse with both pockets stuffed full of gold coins.

Whenever semen sprayed from my urethra, the horse would catch it and gradually jack the dildo higher. The weight of the gold coins kept me from escaping, so I would just keep getting skewered by the dildo climbing up through my rectum.

Calling it a dildo was generous—the surface was covered in thorns and blades. Taking it was pure hell.

“Trying to steal your master’s money? That’s just too greedy, dick-fodder.”

I couldn’t even answer. If I just sat here and took it I was truly fucked. I needed to do something, fast. One of the privileges of being the protagonist was that I could open a status window right in front of other characters and they would never notice.

Ten purchase options floated before my eyes. I scanned the list and quickly found the right item.

That was it. My pockets still held the gold coins—nearly two hundred gold. Which meant I could still buy this.

“B-Buy!!”

I shouted it desperately. Isabella smiled sweetly at my cry.

“Our dick-fodder. What did you just say? Saying something funny? Finally lost your mind?”

Whether that fucking bitch laughed or not, I felt my pockets lighten for an instant. Perfect. Leaving your gold coins in my pockets was a huge mistake, you dogshit bitch.

Something materialized in my hand. A weird cylindrical object covered in magic circles, with a big red button in the center that practically begged to be pressed.

I slammed the button without hesitation.

“What the— dick-fodder, what are you— kuh?!”

For the first time in a hundred runs, Isabella’s panicked face filled my vision. She shuddered, then collapsed limply to the floor.

“Got her.”

I scrambled off the wooden horse and yanked the tube out of my urethra and the dildo out of my ass in one go. Fucking wooden horse. I never wanted to take that again.

“What… did you just… do…”

Isabella stared up at me with wide, shocked eyes. I looked down at her and grinned. With her magic gone, this fucking bitch was just a regular girl. She wasn’t beating me in raw strength. Part of me wanted to beat her half to death right there, but I wasn’t that stupid.

“Let’s see… remaining gold… still plenty left. Purchase Powerful Sleeping Drug.”

I opened the shop window and bought the sleeping drug. A syringe appeared in front of me, filled with a translucent, dangerous-looking fluid.

“Good.”

I grabbed the syringe and strode toward Isabella. She scrambled to her feet and started backing away.

“D-Don’t come near me! Dick-fodder!! That’s an order!!”

“Fuck off, you fucking bitch. Who the hell are you ordering around?!”

I roughly seized her arm and yanked her toward me, then mercilessly drove the syringe needle into the side of her neck and injected the drug. Without magic, the fucking bitch was shockingly easy to overpower.

“Hnn… wh-what did you… inject…”

She staggered for a moment, then crumpled to the floor. The steady, soft breathing told me she was out cold.

I grinned down at her.

I still had plenty of gold in my pockets. Nearly nine coins stamped with the number ten remained.

“Purchase Personality Jelly.”

At my words a massive syringe materialized in midair. It was the size of a one-liter plastic bottle, filled to the brim with translucent liquid that sloshed inside.

“It said to inject it anally, right?”

I roughly stripped off Isabella’s school uniform and hoisted her into a position with her ass raised high. Every girl at this school was a mage. Their bodies contained such densely concentrated, viciously powerful mana that they produced no waste, which meant their assholes were incredibly clean—or so the setting claimed.

As far as I was concerned it was just a convenient adult-game excuse to skip the messy enema step for anal sex.

“Thanks for the convenience. Alright. Time to inject.”

I ruthlessly drove the huge syringe into her anus, then put my weight behind the plunger and shoved it all the way in.

Isabella’s body twitched and trembled. But she was deeply asleep and couldn’t offer any resistance.

“Hnn…”

Even in her sleep she seemed to feel something. She flinched and shuddered. I didn’t care. I kept forcing every last drop of Personality Jelly into her ass. Her slender lower abdomen rippled.

“Hnnn… nngh…”

Isabella whimpered in her sleep, apparently uncomfortable. I pushed the final drop in, then pulled the syringe free.

“Done. Is that it?”

Genetic injection? Wait, that means—