Chapter 3: If This Is Real…
Nash stared at the glowing screen, jaw slightly open, lips dry.
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
The numbers. The stats. The categories. All of it.
It was like reading a report card for his entire existence, not just his game, but his body, his presence, his... dick.
His eyes tracked the line again.
Length: 10.9 cm (Below average)
Appeal Rating: ★☆☆☆☆
He winced. Physically winced. His shoulders tensed, his mouth curled like the taste of it had hit his tongue.
"Oh my God," he muttered under his breath.
It wasn’t just humiliating. It was accurate. Disturbingly accurate. The late-game burnout, the clumsy footwork, the early finishes in bed... or the almosts in bed, when he "trained", to be more honest. And the way people forgot him in a room even when he spoke? That too.
He rubbed his hands through his hair, staring at the title.
[Shrimp Tier]