Was This Novel's Genre Smut?

Another jolt of electricity ripped through me. I couldn't even stay upright. I collapsed onto the bathroom floor, cheek mashed against the tiles, sprawled out like a dead frog.

"Ghk... Okay, I get it. Just please stop doing that."

"You psychopath..."

If there'd been no interference at all, I would have just loafed around and sabotaged that system bitch's plans out of spite. But the electric shocks hurt far too much for me to even entertain the idea.

"More importantly, what am I supposed to call you? System?"

"Author?"

"Fine. Author, what's my schedule going to look like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from now on?"

"Gotta get up early, huh... How do I check my stats?"

"Status Window."

"Level 1...?"

"Are the other kids Level 1 too?"

"Haaah..."

It felt like I'd just started a game on nightmare difficulty. Every number on that window was pathetic — level, stats, all of it. And from this, I was supposed to claw my way to rank one? I couldn't even begin to guess how much growing I'd have to do before that was possible.

Maybe I should poke around and check out the top students later... But what's with that title? Lewd-Bodied Copycat?

Just thinking about it made my head hurt, so I decided not to. Next up were the skills. Unlike my miserable stats, the names at least looked like they might actually be useful.

Just as I'd expected. These were good skills. Analysis was the perfect partner for Copy, and the performance of Copy itself was broken beyond belief. I especially liked that I didn't even have to win a fight — there was another way to take someone's skill.

"Well... the skills are pretty decent, at least."

"Shut up."

"Sorry... So what am I supposed to do now?"

"What?"

"And what exactly am I supposed to do here by myself?"

What was I supposed to do in a place where I didn't know anyone or anything? For now, maybe I'd just lie on the bed and think.

I heaved myself up off the bathroom floor with some effort, and that was when the body in the mirror caught my eye.

Okay, I am ridiculously pretty...

Sharp eyes, a high nose, a slender face. It was exactly the kind of face ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd always wanted in a woman. The irises had gone crimson — probably because of Analysis — which only added a mysterious edge. And in complete contrast to that haughty face, my chest and ass had some very strong opinions of their own. The figure was perfect.

I'd never actually seen a woman's breasts in person, so I couldn't be sure of the exact size, but they looked about as big as an H-cup porn actress I knew of, and the nipples were a flawless pink. Nothing to complain about. A cinched waist and wide hips only piled on the sex appeal, and that big, properly lifted ass looked built for getting pregnant.

And the owner of this lewd, pregnancy-optimized body is... why the hell did it have to be me?

However I looked at it, it meant my body was ridiculously, outrageously hot. No man alive would be able to leave a body like this alone. Myself included.

The first pair of tits I ever get to touch, and they're mine...

"Haaahn..."

A woman's breasts were soft. Springy and taut in a way that felt completely new. It would have felt even better if this weren't masturbation.

Those pink nipples were already standing out, begging to be touched. I pinched one between my thumb and forefinger.

"Hyaaah!"

I'd played with nipples before while jerking off as a guy. The pleasure a woman's nipples delivered crashed over my body on a completely different scale. It felt like an electric current running deep through my insides — similar to the Author's little zaps, except this one was calibrated to feel good. The tingle was addictive, and more than that, the sheer size of the pleasure was enormous.

"Haaahn... nngh..."

Were women's bodies originally this sensitive? Or was mine just special? Feeling this much from nipples alone couldn't possibly be normal. I lost myself in it, twisting and pinching them this way and that — until a strange wetness on my thigh snapped me back to my senses.

"Hyaaahn... this is..."

A clear, viscous fluid was pulsing out of my tightly clenched slit in thick, wet gushes. Looking in the mirror at myself — a guy, in my head — leaking pussy juice from nothing but nipple play brought on a sudden, brutal wave of post-nut clarity.

If only this weren't my own body... hah...

The mood thoroughly killed, I turned on the shower to cool my overheated skin, then started blasting water between my legs to wash away the sticky feeling.

"Hwoooooh!"

A completely different kind of pleasure from the nipples. I'd forgotten — women sometimes got themselves off with the showerhead too. The sensation hit so hard I yanked the water off in a panic, then dragged my trembling legs to the bed and all but collapsed onto it. I hadn't even dried off. I just lay there with my lower half soaked, sprawled across the mattress.

A woman's body was even more sensitive than I'd thought. The pleasure was intense enough to make ordinary daily life impossible, so I swore to myself I'd hold back on the masturbation as much as I could.

Collapsing from jerking off was embarrassing, but since I was already lying down, I started thinking through my plans and what I could actually do.

Let's think of this as a game, not a novel.

The clear condition for this game was rank one. If rank one was the goal, then what I needed were powerful skills and high stats. Right now I was Level 1, already behind every other student. So what could I actually work with, given what I had?

The gaps in my build would have to be filled by that broken skill, Copy. Which led to the first real problem: what kind of skill should I copy first?

The answer was obviously a growth-type skill. If I wanted to forcibly close the gap with everyone else, a growth skill was mandatory. Those kinds of skills were usually more efficient the lower your level, so the sooner I grabbed one, the more it would pay off in levels and raw specs.

The Author mentioned there are dungeons too... I'll need a combat skill if I don't want to get killed by a monster.

I didn't have a single combat skill, so the second copy was decided: something I could fight with.

More importantly, what happens to me if I die in this world? I don't have nearly enough information about this novel...

There was a lot I needed to ask the next time the Author showed up.

The heat from earlier had finally settled. I got up off the bed and started tearing through the room, looking for anything that might count as information.

"Huh?"

In the drawer beside the bed, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠found a smartphone that was apparently mine. I powered it on and found a bunch of unfamiliar apps already installed.

What's this? Elena Community? How am I supposed to resist that? I'm going in.

I tapped the Elena Community app. A familiar atmosphere washed over me. I hit the tab labeled Anonymous One-Line Board, and there they were — the kind of posts I knew all too well.

So bait posts and simps existed here too. Maybe I could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠actually use this community.

Pull every scrap of aggro I can, and run the story as cowardly and dirty as possible. That's not a bad plan at all.

That was what I did best, after all. If that Author bitch thought she was going to use me to write something good, my personality was not going to allow it. I was going to get my petty little revenge inside this novel.

I started typing a post on the anonymous board, fishing for information.

The bait hadn't landed as hard as I'd hoped, but I'd gotten the important information. Most people hid the skills they had. I started typing another post.

Why the hell did this damn academy start from A?

That was enough information from the community for now. I'd figured out everything I needed to keep hidden. There was a limit to how much I could learn while holed up in this room, though. I opened the closet to find something to wear outside.

"Haaah..."

Women's underwear, a uniform, casual clothes. The realization that these were the things I was going to have to wear from now on dragged another sigh out of me.

It's not like I'm a woman down to my soul. I am absolutely not wearing a bra.

I had no interest in volunteering for the feeling of having my own masculinity castrated. I threw on an oversized hoodie, yanked on a single pair of plain white briefs, and walked out without even putting on pants.

The hoodie comes down past my thighs, so it shouldn't matter.

I pulled the hood down low and hid as much of my face as I could. The view outside the dormitory wasn't all that different from where I used to live.

So this is a modern fantasy, huh... Well, the Author always was famous for writing those well.

The reason I'd come outside wasn't sightseeing. I needed to try out Analysis. If I was going to use the skill I had, I needed to know what it actually did.

An ordinary-looking male student was walking through the park. I went for it immediately.

"Analysis."

Just from the name, I could tell Haste was a skill worth having.

"Check conditions."