In This Life, I Will Extremely Pamper My Short-Lived Husband - Chapter 12 - Meeting the Parents

All I know is this is just wrong. I was just reading the latest chapter of One Piece in my computer. And an annoying survey popped up asking me if I want to play One Piece new beginning. Thinking nothing of it I said yes.And selected ‘Realistic’ difficulty.There was a game loading screen. Loading gibberish, and warning me that the world has a lot of surprises in store for me. Not all things are same, because I had to choose the ‘developer’s time-line’.And then telling me to brace for Character Synchronization. And before I knew it, I was no longer your average Joe. And this wasn’t earth either… no this was One Piece.And, I was Monkey D. Luffy. The future King of pirates.I mean what could go wrong? If Luffy could do it, so could I.But this wasn’t the same One piece world I remember. Some changes are small like Kuina being Zoro’s rival… who’s alive.While others were huge. Like… did you know, Whitebeard had an actual beard?! Man looked like Santa Claus on steroids. Jaked and shit!Just what did I get myself into?But does it matter?No.Because I’m going to have the time of my life. This was going to be one heck of an adventure.

I found myself in a parallel universe, awakening as a male priest. Everything seemed perfect; after all, as a healer, specializing in aiding women should pose no issue, right? However, I couldn’t help but wonder about some peculiar spells in my repertoire.

Firstly, what in the world is the “Instantaneous Outbreak of Acute Gastroenteritis” spell? And don’t even get me started on the “Osteoporosis” spell. What purpose could these serve in my healing endeavors? The confusion only deepened with spells like “Blood Burn,” “Gradual Freeze,” and “Mental Chaos.” Can I still peacefully focus on healing women with such ominous abilities?

Comparing my spells to those of other professions, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast. Mages wield “Doomstorm” and “Ice Age,” swordsmen boast “Sword Rain: Homecoming” and “Wind-Cutter Slash,” while archers showcase “Arrow Rain: Shooting Stars” and “Storm Arrow.” Yet, my ultimate spells are disturbingly named “Cancer Cell Proliferation,” “T-Virus Infection,” and “Rabies Outbreak.”

In the midst of it all, a certain character, some crying girl, laments, “Noooo, I just took a bath, who would have thought that I would become infected!”

Meanwhile, a villain chillingly asks, “Do any of you know what it feels like to burst apart while spouting blood? No! You don’t know!”

Even a boss character confesses, “Dear family, who can understand? I just took a nap, and when I woke up, I suddenly found that I have no kidneys!”

When I cleared the final chapter of a game that was a national failure, I became an unnamed side character in it.

A non-standard, unmeasurable, EX rank supporting character.