Common Sense Hijack System-Chapter 141: Weird ass convo

Curtis nodded solemnly. "I lived like a monk for a whole month. Ate nothing but instant noodles. No takeout, no snacks, just cup ramen every single day. I memorized all the flavors. Shrimp, spicy beef, miso, tonkotsu—you name it, I suffered through it."

Karl just stared.

Curtis wasn’t done.

"And transport? Jogging. Rain or shine, I ran to work. People thought I was some kind of fitness freak, but nah—I was just too broke for the subway."

Karl’s blank expression slowly shifted into something resembling mild concern.

Curtis sighed dramatically. "Man, I even stopped gaming. No new games, no microtransactions, nothing. Just pure, unfiltered grindset."

Karl rubbed his temple. "So let me get this straight... You turned your life into an endurance challenge, ate nothing but cheap noodles, ran to work like some anime protagonist, all so you could afford... a sex doll."

Curtis beamed. "Exactly!"

Karl stared at him for a long moment.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"...You’re insane."

Curtis shrugged. "You say that, but I bet you don’t sleep with customizable soft thighs and a whisper function."

Karl inhaled sharply. "I am not having this conversation."

Curtis cackled. "You just don’t understand true happiness, Karl. Amy was worth every sacrifice."

Karl looked at the doll, then back at Curtis. "I genuinely don’t know if I should respect your dedication or call for psychiatric help."

Curtis clapped a hand on Karl’s shoulder. "Both are valid, my friend. Both are valid."

Karl exhaled slowly.

This was, without a doubt, the strangest conversation he had ever had in the apocalypse.

Curtis, still grinning with pride over his "achievement," suddenly clapped his hands together.

"Alright, Karl. Since you’re already here, I might as well bless you with the second greatest thing in my possession."

Karl narrowed his eyes. "I’m scared to ask."

Curtis dramatically dropped to his knees and pulled out a heavy box from under his bed. With a grin that screamed "trust me, bro," he flipped the lid open.

Karl immediately recognized what was inside.

Stacks and stacks of hentai doujins.

Not just digital copies—physical, well-preserved, premium quality books.

Karl blinked. "...You saved these?"

Curtis puffed out his chest. "Hell yeah, I did. When the world ended, everyone was hoarding food and medicine. Me? I was out there making sure culture survived."

Karl slowly shook his head. "You’re actually insane."

Curtis pulled out a sealed copy of an infamous Netori doujin and handed it to Karl like it was a sacred artifact. "Tell me this doesn’t awaken something deep inside you."

Karl took the book, flipping through a few pages.

The plot was exactly what he expected—a cocky protagonist, a married woman who "didn’t know what she wanted," and the usual degeneracy that came with the genre.

Karl sighed, closing the book. "...I hate that you know my tastes."

Curtis cackled. "Bro, I knew the moment you admitted to Netori. You’re not a normie. You’re one of us."

Karl snorted. "’Us’? What, the last remaining men of culture in the apocalypse?"

Curtis nodded solemnly. "Exactly. In a world where all people care about is survival, we—we stand for something greater."

Karl exhaled. "...You’re a goddamn idiot."

Curtis grinned. "And yet, you’re still here."

Karl hesitated.

He realized something.

He was actually enjoying this.

For the first time in years, he was just talking. Not about survival, not about food shortages or the dangers of the outside world.

Just bullshitting like two high school degenerates.

Karl stared at the doujin in his hands, then at Curtis, who was already excitedly pulling out even rarer copies from his collection.

Without thinking, Karl murmured, almost to himself—

"I think I forgot what it feels like... to have a friend."

Curtis froze for a second.

Then, with a grin that was surprisingly genuine, he nudged Karl with his elbow.

"Well, congratulations, bro. You just made one."

Karl looked at him, then back at the absurd pile of hentai between them.

He sighed.

"I regret everything."

Curtis leaned back against the wall, flipping through one of the doujins like he was reading a fine piece of literature. "Man, remember the days when we’d just chill after school, talking about waifus and debating which doujin artist was top-tier?"

Karl smirked slightly. "I never really talked to people about this stuff back then."

Curtis gasped dramatically. "Bro, no way. You were a closet weeb?"

Karl sighed. "I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t see the point in talking about it with people who didn’t care."

Curtis shook his head in disappointment. "Man, that’s a crime. You missed out on peak high school degeneracy. Do you know how many times I got into full-on debates about which Fate girl was best?"

Karl scoffed. "Let me guess. You were a Rin guy."

Curtis pointed at him, grinning. "Damn right. Twin tails, thigh highs, and that tsundere charm? Perfection."

Karl chuckled. "Predictable."

Curtis squinted at him. "Oh? And what about you, Mr. Netori Enjoyer? Who was your Fate girl?"

Karl hesitated for a second. "...Ishtar."

Curtis screamed.

"YOU CALL ME PREDICTABLE AND YOU PICK RIN BUT WITH MORE EDGE?!"

Karl shrugged. "What can I say? I like powerful women."

Curtis groaned, shaking his head. "Man, we really are the same. Just two broken degenerates finding solace in anime tiddies while the world crumbles around us."

Karl smirked. "Sounds about right."

Curtis threw another doujin at him. "Alright, since we’re already diving into the past, hit me with the real shit. Top three doujin tags."

Karl exhaled, rubbing his temple. "You really expect me to answer that?"

Curtis nodded. "One hundred percent."

Karl sighed. "...Netori, corruption, and—" he hesitated.

Curtis leaned in. "And?"

Karl exhaled. "...Office ladies."

Curtis collapsed onto the floor.

"BRO— I knew you were cold, but you really out here fantasizing about stealing wives in a corporate setting?!"

Karl rolled his eyes. "I like the aesthetic."

Curtis wiped a fake tear from his eye. "My man. You have the soul of an executive villain."

Karl elbowed him. "Shut up."

Curtis grinned. "Alright, alright, I respect it. Now, my turn. Oneesan, stockings, and thigh jobs."

Karl didn’t even flinch. "Not surprised."

Curtis pointed at him. "See? That’s friendship. We just know." fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

Karl looked around the messy apartment, the ridiculous piles of doujins, and Curtis being way too excited about their degenerate conversation.

And for the first time in years, he actually felt something familiar.

Like he was back in his teenage years.

Just a weeb, talking nonsense with another weeb, with no worries beyond which waifu deserved more respect.

Karl sighed, shaking his head with a small smirk.

"I actually missed this stupid shit."

Karl stood up, stretching his arms. "Alright, I’m heading back."

Curtis gave him a lazy salute. "Try not to get too depressed without my superior company."

Karl rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the supply boxes, adjusting the weight in his hands. As he bent down to pick up another, Curtis casually slipped a Netori doujin into one of the boxes with the skill of a seasoned criminal.

He barely held back a chuckle. This was gonna be good.

Karl, completely unaware, hoisted the boxes and walked out the door.

---

The walk back to his apartment was quiet, the air cold but refreshing after being in Curtis’s den of degeneracy.

As soon as he reached his floor, he barely had time to set the boxes down before Layla and Jane appeared.

"Karl!" Layla beamed, running up to him. "You’re back! Did you get anything good?"

Jane followed close behind, adjusting her glasses. "Took you long enough. We thought you got lost."

Karl sighed, setting the supplies down on the small table in the living area. "It was a mess outside. Julia had to handle things."

Layla nodded. "Yeah, we heard the yelling. That’s why we stayed inside."

Jane crossed her arms. "Smart move. It’s getting worse out there."

Karl just grunted in response and began opening one of the boxes, checking the contents. Canned food, instant noodles, some protein bars— standard survival rations.

Then, as he pulled the next box toward him—

A single Netori doujin slid out and landed right in front of them.

Silence.

Karl stared at it.

Layla stared at it.

Jane definitely stared at it.

The room was so quiet that Karl swore he could hear Curtis laughing from several floors away.

Layla blinked first. "...What is that?"

Karl immediately grabbed the book and stuffed it back in the box. "Nothing."

Jane adjusted her glasses, raising an eyebrow. "That didn’t look like nothing."

Layla tilted her head, still confused. "Was that... a comic?"

Karl gritted his teeth. Curtis, you bastard.

Jane smirked. "Not just any comic. That was a doujin."

Layla still looked lost. "What’s a doujin?"

Karl wanted to die.

Jane crossed her arms. "A very specific kind of comic."

Layla frowned slightly. "Is it bad?"

Karl shook his head. "It’s not important."

Jane tapped her chin, pretending to think. "I mean... it kinda depends. Some are wholesome."

Karl glared at her.

Jane smirked. "And some are absolutely degenerate."

Layla’s eyes widened slightly. "Karl...?"

Karl groaned, rubbing his temple. "Look, it’s not mine."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Then whose is it?"

Karl paused.

If he blamed Curtis, they’d definitely go bother him.

If he said it was a mistake, Jane would never let it go.

And if he tried to ignore it—

Jane grinned. "Netori, huh?"

Karl exhaled sharply. He was going to murder Curtis.