Achievement Unlocked: Make a Heroine Cry for the First Time!

I had accidentally kicked Mirele right in the face.

And when I snapped at the other two women for mocking her instead of showing an ounce of concern—demanding how they could act like that when a human being was hurt—Mirele's reaction completely threw me.

"Whatever do you mean by that? Who else could possibly be a 'human' here besides Master?"

With tearful eyes and a genuinely baffled tilt of her head, she stared up at me. My mind went blank.

What about you? And what about the other two? Aren't you human? Did I get thrown into some cosmic horror story? If I knew this would happen, I would've blacklisted the Anomaly tag on NovelPia!

As I stood trembling before what felt like three vengeful virgin ghosts, Mirele's trembling pupils fluttered frantically beneath her reddened forehead. She raised a delicate, trembling finger and pointed it at her own chest.

"M-Master... C-Could it be that you just referred to me as a human?"

When I failed to answer, she immediately pressed her forehead against the floor.

"H-How could I ever dare claim to be human?! I-I am merely a slab of meat, a piece of livestock! I'm not some defective cull who doesn't know her place! I know my station, and I know my reason for existing! P-Please, don't test me like this!"

"Ara ara~♡"

Sayoko chimed in, though her voice betrayed a faint tremor.

"Master is truly mischievous~. How could Mirele ever aspire to the station of a human? She is a beast, livestock born solely to bring Master pleasure. Nothing more, and nothing less♡."

"Totally! What Master just said was super weird! Mirele being a human is, like, completely ridiculous! Well, they say totally brainless sows still hallucinate that they're human sometimes, but—"

"Fufu, Jessica. That was merely a slip of the tongue, wasn't it?"

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Sayoko cut Jessica off, speaking with deliberate poise and a gentle, soothing cadence.

"Master, please do not be displeased. I am certain Jessica did not truly intend to criticize your judgment as strange, nor did she mean to accuse you of harboring thoughts fit only for an utterly moronic sow. Jessica is rather simple-minded, after all. Surely, her tongue merely slipped, wouldn't you say?"

"What?! Hey! Are you insane? When did I ever say Master was—"

"And Master's words just now were undoubtedly meant to imply that he will discipline Mirele more strictly from now on, so that she never forgets her place. Isn't that right? Fufu."

"I-If that's what you meant, please don't worry, Master! Mirele is a sow! Not a human! Did I ever claim to be human? Never! I know my station very well, and I am truly, completely satisfied with it! I'm not like Jessica Senior. I abandoned the delusion of being human a long time ago!"

"Hey! I don't harbor delusions of being human either!"

Ignoring Jessica's indignant outburst, Mirele lifted her face, her eyes filled with desperate supplication.

"So please, never utter such terrifying words again! I-I am absolutely not a defective cull stepping out of line! Please believe that I will always remain an obedient, grateful sow to you, Master!"

A single, fat teardrop spilled over her terrified eyes and rolled down her cheek.

The cheerful sound of popping party poppers echoed in my mind.

And with that, a tidal wave of memories crashed into my head.

There was a game infamous for treating its heroines with ungodly cruelty.

How cruel, you ask? If I ranked every manga, light novel, and video game I had ever consumed in my life, it would comfortably land in the top four. And that was under the 15+ Rating (PG-13) standard, mind you—without the gore DLC installed. The sheer fact that it managed to surpass most R-18 titles while technically wearing an all-ages disguise tells you everything you need to know about how horrifically those girls were handled.

Of course, as a player sitting behind a monitor, clicking buttons like you were managing pawns in RimWorld or dynasty members in Crusader Kings, you never felt an ounce of guilt.

Why am I bringing this up, you wonder?

"Transmigrate as the protagonist of the last game you played?"

After a night of heavy drinking, I had clicked on a meme sent by a friend. Glancing back at my monitor, I saw gorgeous, voluptuous women waving enthusiastically at the screen.

Except they weren't human.

Literally. Much like vampires or succubi, their fundamental species classification had been altered. The title of the game itself was Infinite Catfight! Welcome to Sow Simulator.

Whatever they had been back when they were human no longer mattered. Now, they were pathetic, beautiful livestock who couldn't survive a single day without their master, spending every waking moment pandering, backstabbing, and engaging in petty catfights for affection. To the player, they were nothing more than one-star gacha fodder to be ground into resources whenever necessary. Now you see why I called the treatment cruel, right?

"You're dropping me in here? Well, at least I won't have to change my name."

I had used my real name across every single scenario anyway. I did that in most games, but some titles forced fixed protagonist names on you, which always ruined the immersion.

This game allowed you to customize your name and social standing for each scenario, making roleplay remarkably fun. While a main questline existed, it was fundamentally a sandbox simulator, meaning you could ignore the objectives entirely. If I had just one complaint...

"I really should've tweaked the face a bit more."

For a game packed with unique heroines, the player character customization was surprisingly lackluster, failing to capture the full glory of my handsome features. Seeing my actual face in person would give the heroines far more narrative justification for fawning over me like that.

Just as I was indulging my vanity, the window rattled violently. I turned toward the sound, found nothing, and turned back.

"What the hell is this?"

My computer was gone.

In fact, my entire room had vanished.

All that remained were blinding, gaudy letters flickering like an RGB keyboard, straining my eyes to the limit. A status window, rendered in a hideous palette reminiscent of an amateur PowerPoint slide.

"Gah! My eyes!"

It was agony subjecting my precious eyesight to such an aesthetic crime. Even when I covered my face or squeezed my eyelids shut, the letters pierced straight through my retinas. The cursed content forced itself into my vision.

"This is..."

These were the game's scenarios. The very title I had been playing—my last-played game. The scenario select menu of *Infinite Catfight Whatever Sow Simulator*.

I immediately wanted to dial my friend's number and scream at him for pulling whatever prank this was, but I had no phone, no room, and no computer. Left with no other choice, I scowled and forced myself to read the dreadful text.

"Horrendous colors. Absolutely grotesque."

Leaning on the sharp observational skills I prided myself on, I noticed a subtle difference between the icons. The one marked with an unlocked padlock meant available, while the closed padlocks signified locked content. But what was the point? Did it expect me to actually transmigrate into this game and clear it?

Surrounded by countless human-rights-deprived, obsessive beauties with gorgeous faces, massive racks, narrow waists, and heavy hips, all of whom couldn't survive without me and were forced to gaze only at me whether they liked it or not? Who on earth would want that?

If you grabbed any random NovelPia reader off ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the street and offered them this, not a single one would take it! If an author announced that commenters would be transmigrated on a first-come, first-served basis, a comment section with a hundred replies would instantly drop to zero!

"Count me out."

Acting as the proud representative of all NovelPia readers, I crossed my arms and swung my chair around—only for the chair to vanish beneath me. I fell flat on my ass.

Rubbing my bruised tailbone, I scrambled to my feet.

"Let's negotiate. What do you want?"

The text shifted.

"This isn't an order, pal, it's a transaction. So just listen—"

Ordinary citizen? Me? And 15+ Rating (PG-13)? Are you treating me like a child? Who could possibly be satisfied with PG-13—

"What?!"

Before I could protest, a wave of hideous, gaudy light swallowed me whole.

Right. How could I have forgotten?

Sayoko, whose gentle, smiling exterior hid the cunning mind of a sly fox; Jessica, the simple-minded, busty blonde cheerleader; and Mirele, the timid, frightened Jewish girl blessed with massive hips. They were the three starting heroines of the first scenario.

"...Master?"

"Sorry. Just feeling a bit dizzy."

"Master, I am so dreadfully sorry! It is all Mirele's fault for acting so presumptuously and rubbing my face against Master's honorable foot!"

"Oh my god! Master, are you okay?! Shouldn't we call an ambulance right now?! If you collapse, that's gonna be, like, super duper bad! Hey, Mirele! This is totally your fault, what are you gonna do about it?!"

"Calm down, I don't need a hospital."

"Really? Thank goodness! I felt like my heart literally stopped for a second! Just sit on the bed just in case, okay? I'll kiss it all better! Should I kiss your head? Or your foot?"

Right at that moment, Sayoko, who had slipped over to the vanity without a sound, reached toward a drawer. Her kimono fluttered open along its high side slit, offering a generous view of her pale, shapely thigh. Turning toward me in a posture that seemed deliberately designed to emphasize the arch of her rear, she smiled softly.

"Master, I have headache medicine right here. I shall feed it to you with water myself, and blow softly on your forehead. You need not lift a single finger; simply lean against me and rest comfortably♥. Cast aside all your worries and vexing thoughts, and rest within my bosom. Your dizziness will melt away in no time."

Had my memories not returned, I would have been completely captivated by this angelic display of devotion. But I saw it.

Just for a split second—the icy shadow that crossed her face.

...Of course, even if Sayoko was a two-faced schemer, I had no reason to fear her. That sinister gaze wasn't directed at me. It was aimed squarely at the other women—the rivals competing with her for the sole resource that dictated their survival: their master's favor.

Jessica glared right back at Sayoko without bothering to hide her disdain, while Mirele radiated an aura of terrified vigilance. Under different circumstances, these three might have become friends... Or maybe not. Even in their original worlds, their paths never would have crossed.

The circumstances that reduced the heroines to this state varied wildly across scenarios, each boasting colorful, eccentric world-building. In this scenario, they had been abducted by the Assyrian Empire—an ancient, brutal superpower that survived all the way into the twenty-first century through interdimensional conquest.

Armed with military might far surpassing the modern United States, Assyria used Dimensional Battering Rams to conquer parallel dimensions, dragging back beautiful men and women to serve as livestock. It was a dime-a-dozen grimdark trope. Originally, the lore featured a modern Baekje that had fallen into depravity and kidnapped foreigners, but after widespread player backlash, the developers swapped the culprits to Assyria. Fortunately, news of this game hadn't reached the ears of actual Assyrians.

And so, what was my role in all of this?

An indigenous college student living in Assyrian Baekje. And the legal owner of three women classified as livestock.

"Girls."

With just a single word from me, the silent war ceased instantly. All three perked up, their ears practically twitching with rapt attention.

"...Could the three of you leave me alone for just a bit?"

"If it is Master's command, how could we possibly object~♡?"

"Where should we go? Should we stay in the yard? Or the bathroom?"

"Shall we wait in the butt-only today posture...?"

Butt-only today? Ah, right. The voice command to shut the heroines up. I felt curious about how that command translated into physical reality, but decided to test it later.

"Just wait in the yard for a moment."

Without a word of protest, the three crawled out of the caravan on all fours. Their hips swayed gently beneath their skimpy garments as they descended the steps—narrowly staying within the PG boundaries of a 12+ Rating (PG), which felt even more restrictive than a PG-13.

Only after they stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind them did I let out a breath and mutter under my breath.

"Status window...?"

...I had braced myself for restrictions on hardcore intimacy, but locking kissing?!

My world crumbled around me.

A whirlwind of complex emotions surged in the wake of despair: terror toward the supernatural reality of transmigration, anxiety about the life I left behind, existential crises regarding my own identity. Yet, as I caught sight of my breathtakingly handsome reflection in the vanity mirror, my deep, philosophical internal turmoil led me to a swift conclusion.

Forget deep thinking. Let's focus on what needs to be done right now.

The only mechanic the system demanded of me—the only hint it provided—was achievements. Completing achievements was the key to unlocking intimacy options.

...Not that I was doing this purely for lustful pursuits, of course. It was simply the only objective the system had given me. Yes, strictly pragmatic.

So far, I had cleared exactly one achievement.

Just in case, I tapped the locked [ 🔒 Kiss ] entry on the interface and even whispered, "Unlock kiss," but nothing happened. As expected, a single point wasn't enough. If that was the case, the least it could do was display the required point threshold. For that matter, was it even based on points? What if it required ten achievements per unlock point? I thought I had left the torment of arbitrary token economies behind in Sunday school.

Sighing, I glanced back. Pressed against the tiny, porthole-like circular window of the caravan door were three faces. Peeking in like curious children, they vanished the instant my gaze met theirs.

Turning back, I caught sight of the open drawer Sayoko had rummaged through earlier. There weren't any explicitly adult items, but quite a few objects inside felt deeply questionable to use on an actual human ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠being—things like crops, leashes, and blindfolds. Well, blindfolds were used by ordinary people too, weren't they?

"Hmm."

Let's think this through calmly. No need to rush.

If making a heroine cry triggered an achievement, wouldn't the other achievements follow a similar logic? Something safe, yet unique to this world's absurd premise. Something effortlessly simple, yet completely unimaginable back in reality. An act that would shock a modern person, but pass as entirely ordinary here. That had to be how the achievements worked.

Having mentally prepared myself, I pushed open the caravan door. Down at the base of the stairs, three women looked up at me on all fours.

It felt like I was committing a petty crime. Shaking off that prickle of guilt, I jingled the leashes in my hand.

"Girls. Want to go for a walk?"