Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 132. Gamer

In the vast, sticky lands of Slimejazz—a world somehow both cute and deeply grotesque—gooey smiles ruled the land.

Literally.

It was a realm where jiggling gelatinous life forms pranced around like royalty, and slime-hunting monsters stalked them for sport or... cuteness envy?

And right in the heart of this sugar-glazed hellscape was a single, wiggling, high-density protagonist.

A little slime with absurdly big googly eyes.

Too cute for its own good.

So cute, in fact, that every creature—every single one—it encountered had only one goal: gouge out its eyes and steal its aesthetic.

Apparently, that was a thing in this world.

Thus began the tragic tale of the Slimeprince—a newborn gelatinous heir with a divine bounce in his step and the most violently adorable gaze the world had ever seen.

He didn’t ask for war. He didn’t crave conquest.

But the world wouldn’t let him be.

From the sticky swamp lands of Medusa’s Asset (yeah, don’t ask) to the splattered kingdoms of The Blob, the slime was hunted like a rare collectible.

But it didn’t break. Didn’t fold.

It evolved.

It devoured. It adapted. It murdered its foes with ruthless precision.

Every beast, bounty hunter, and rival blob that tried to pluck its precious peepers got turned into viscous roadkill.

Eventually, it stood tall—well, as tall as a slime could—above mountains of twitching corpse-goo. Crowned in glory.

The Slimelord.

The One True Monarch.

Lord of Googly Eyes. Beauty incarnate of the gelatinous realm. Fear of all who jiggled.

Game Completed!!

Time Taken: 1:52:57

Rewards: 3780 EXP | 7560 RHB

Bonus: +1000 EXP | +2000 RHB

No Death Run Achieved!

Additional Bonus: +2000 EXP | +4000 RHB

I sat in stunned silence.

Staring at the screen.

’The fuck is this bullshit?’

That was my only thought.

No really. I wasn’t even mad about the difficulty. The game was easy. Pathetically so. The controls were tight, sure, but once you figured out the enemy patterns, the whole thing folded like wet paper.

What broke me—what actually shattered my soul—was the story.

That writing?

That trash-tier cartoony vomit?

Who approved this script?

Slimejazz? Slimeprince? Are you kidding me?

They didn’t even try. Not even a single ounce of dignity. It was like the devs were mocking me. I could feel the sarcasm through the screen.

I clicked my tongue, disgusted, and ejected my ID card from the console with a sharp tug. The interface flickered once more, and new stats flashed across the holo-display.

Name: Cassius Lancaster

Age: 22 | Gender: Male

Rank: ★★★★

Level: 20 | Grade: 7

Wins: N/A | Losses: N/A

RHB: 13,840

’Huh.’

I had apparently skyrocketed to level 20 from this nonsense. A part of me was impressed by the EXP scaling... but honestly, what the hell could I even do with it?

That was something I’d have to look into later.

For now, the two hours Kaelira granted were almost up. Time to leave this fever dream. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

I pushed myself up from the chair.

Only to immediately stop.

I was surrounded.

A full-blown crowd.

Dozens of people—some in casual gear, some in combat vests, others in casual clothing—all pressing around the console stations, eyes wide, jaws half-dropped.

My frown deepened.

My mood was already trash from the game’s garbage writing, and now this?

I spat onto the floor beside me, not even hiding the irritation. "What?"

The crowd flinched like I just growled at them. A few took half-steps back, but then... the murmuring started.

Whispers rippling out.

"D-Did he just... finish the game?"

"No way. That’s the hardest title in the entire arcade..."

"He beat Chronicles of the Slime? With no deaths?!"

"Not even the top RHB grinders have cleared it yet!"

"He cleared it in under two hours... and didn’t rage once. Is this guy even human?"

"Do you think he’s from one of the top-tier guilds?"

"Maybe... but I haven’t seen that face before..."

The murmuring behind me wasn’t exactly subtle.

They weren’t even trying to whisper. Every word carried like a slap to the face, and each phrase only added to my growing irritation.

’This ridiculous slime game? Unbeatable?’

That was what had people wide-eyed and whispering?

I didn’t even dignify them with a second glance. Just turned on my feet and walked off, sliding my hands into my pockets, fuming.

’Trash game. Trash writing. Trash difficulty. And yet somehow, a legend in this place? What a joke.’

I scanned the crowd as I made my way out, half-expecting to find Kaelira sulking in a corner or maybe camping a different console.

But no luck.

So I kept walking until I stepped outside, letting the artificial light of the arcade spill into the gritty street ahead.

That’s when I saw her.

Kaelira.

And she was—well—assaulting a trash can with a level of commitment that honestly made me pause.

Her fists were a blur as she pounded dents into the poor thing, muttering curses like a drunken sailor on a warpath.

Metal echoed under her fury. Her expression was twisted into something feral. And the way she was stomping?

This girl had a rage quitter written all over her.

I blinked once. Twice.

Then nodded in solemn approval.

’What a true gamer.’

Genuine respect formed in my heart.

She must’ve lost—hard—and clearly, she was not taking it well. But that made her real. Not one of those fake, cool-headed pros who smile after a defeat and say "Good game."

No.

Kaelira was the real deal. The kind who beat down innocent furniture after a loss. A controller thrower. An elite-tier malder.

I sauntered over, casual as a cloud, and gave her shoulder a light pat from behind.

Bad move.

She whipped around instantly, a deep scowl carved into her face, fists still clenched.

"Not interested, dimwits!!"

I waved lazily. "Relax. It’s just me."

Recognition dawned in her blue eyes and she rolled them with a groan. "Oh. You. I thought it was some bastard trying to hit on me again."

I let out a low chuckle. "Wow. Poor guy. He probably just wanted directions and got a full combo to the face."

She snorted, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Whatever. I was in a mood." She huffed, then looked away, clearly still burning from whatever match she lost. "Let’s get out of here. I know a hotel nearby. I don’t want to stay in this place a second longer."

"Lead the way, my lady." I gave a mock bow.

She didn’t even look back, just started walking. But a second later, she scratched the back of her head awkwardly and said, "By the way... you got any RHB to spare?"

I raised a brow. "How much are we talking?"

She groaned. "I’ve got... like... 90 left."

I stopped mid-step. "Ninety?"

"Ninety," she repeated with dead eyes.

I nearly choked on air. "What the hell happened?! Did you gamble it all away?"

"No!" she snapped, then hesitated. "Okay, kind of. I lost my match. And according to the rules here, if you challenge someone to a duel and lose, you forfeit ninety percent of your RHB."

I blinked. "Ninety percent? Who the hell made that rule?"

She threw her arms up. "It’s standard here! Makes battles worth something."

"Yeah, worth going broke," I muttered, unimpressed. "You could’ve just played a game. Even a dumb one."

She glared at me. "I can’t, okay? The games are time-consuming and give you peanuts. If you win a battle, it’s faster, more rewarding."

"Assuming you win," I deadpanned.

Her glare deepened. "Tch."

"Look," I said, pulling out my ID card with a shrug, "I played one game. Got a ton of RHB. Even leveled up."

Her eyes narrowed. "You’re lying."

"See for yourself."

I handed her the card.

She tapped it against her own and pulled up the data—then froze. Like genuinely froze.

Her jaw opened a fraction, her face draining of color.

"What..." she whispered. "What the hell..."

I smirked. "Impressed?"

She looked at me like I just told her I was the Pope. "Level 20?! Over 13k RHB?! What did you even play!?"

I shrugged again. "Some trash-ass game. ’Chronicles of the Slime.’ Utter nonsense. Story was garbage. The difficulty was a joke. Took me less than two hours. Cleared it no-death."

Kaelira’s hand trembled slightly as she gave my card back.

"You..." she stammered. "You just... completed the hardest game in the arcade... and you’re calling it trash?"

"Because it was."

"You’re insane."

"I’m aware."

She stared at me like she was witnessing an anomaly. I could see her questioning her life choices in real time.

Honestly? I was enjoying it.

A lot.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢