Hop Pub Sex (1)
To fully accept the divine power, train your body.
A week had flown by. In that time, I'd sunk over four hours a day into workouts—it felt like a solid investment. Seeing my stamina climb as a clear metric was satisfying, and honestly, kinda fun too. Thanks to that, it had smoothly surpassed the average for guys my age.
"Damn, my body's definitely improved a ton."
Before, it was just your run-of-the-mill build—nothing special, nothing to write home about. But now? Even to the naked eye, the changes from one week of training were tangible. And this wasn't from some pro PT trainer; for self-taught grind, the progress was straight-up impressive.
"Now I could probably overpower your average dude with raw strength, right?"
Sex with the girls felt way easier, sure, but I was getting the vibe I could manhandle regular guys too. Not that I'd pick fights unless I had to, of course.
Anyway, shirt off, staring in the mirror, I couldn't stop the grins leaking out.
"Ah, I was already hot, but a perfect body on top? What am I supposed to do with this?"
Ahead lay an even more flawless physique. My powers would ramp up too. By then, who the hell could handle a guy like me? Kinda worrying, honestly.
"So let's power-level faster. No more weird-ass abilities, got it?"
Time Manipulation proficiency has surged, unlocking a new ability.
Time Manipulation Release — Release the time stop directly, without waiting out the duration.
Over that week at the gym, I'd fucked the girls nonstop. Couldn't forget the feel of that big-titted one, so I hit her up a few more times, plus railed a bunch of other hotties repeatedly. Four hours training, one hour pounding—that was the routine.
But proficiency barely budged—a measly nudge past 25%, where I'd hoped for a real upgrade. Instead, I get this now useless release function?
"Honestly, handing out crap like this as a 'new ability' is straight-up bullshit."
Sure, there were times I'd thought about ending it early myself, but the durations were short enough to wait out back then. No biggie.
"Eh, fine. Once activations hit 60 minutes, I might finish sex and still have hours left to twiddle my thumbs..."
Still, release should've been baked into the base power from day one.
"Whining won't change shit anyway, huh?"
I tossed the thought at the system window hovering in front. Silent as ever, of course. Whatever—today was grades day. Better to do something productive than yap at a deaf god. I fired up the computer.
"These should be killer scores, right? Best ever?"
I'd cheated off the top dogs in class—straight-A nerds. Sucks if it bombed. Logged into the grade portal, punched in my student ID, navigated to results.
My heart was thumping louder by the second.
"Hoo, calm down first."
Part of me dying to click and check, part terrified it'd suck. And yeah, a thrill buzzing underneath. Heart pounding like it hurt.
"Alright... here goes..."
Chest wouldn't settle, so screw it—close eyes, smash the button. The mouse click echoed forever till I peeked.
The grades? "Whoa, what the fuck. For real?"
All those essay hacks I'd sweated over? Paid off huge. A+s everywhere—even from profs notorious for stingy grading.
"Me... top of the class?!"
Top scores without cracking a book? Piece of cake, lol.
The anxiety melted away like ice in hell. Just pure joy left.
Profs would look at me different now. Maybe even underclassmen.
"Can't hog this win solo. Mom first."
Dialed her up, launched into the epic tale of my grind and triumph.
"So yeah, your boy snagged top spot. Boom."
"—Top of the class? That's good, right?"
"Hehe, duh. Number one in the whole damn course."
"—Mom? What's up? Everyone else too sick to test or what?"
She never buys her son's hype—classic.
"Whatever, later."
"—Kidding, congrats son. You worked hard. Good job."
Sigh of relief as she finally hit the proud-mom script. Grinned, chatted some pointless life updates, hung up.
Voice didn't sound off or anything, but...
"Shoulda asked about the money maybe."