I was eating chocolate.

And not the sentimental kind—this was full-on civil-war-in-my-mouth chocolate. The same world where I'd once downed coffee brewed with unicorn semen, now had chocolate. How does a universe that hands out magical semen coffee also serve Dairy Milk? Logistics, I guess. The cosmos has weird catering choices.

The chocolate didn't melt. It sat in my hand like a tiny, delicious anvil. Solid as a tombstone, tasty as a sin I'd never confess. I shouted—because when chocolate appears, basic human decency dictates volume escalation—and everyone turned toward me like I'd just proposed nationalized naps.

A prisoner, blinking slowly, asked, "This is called chocolate, Lord Hero?"

"Yeah," I said, like a man who'd discovered gravity but still wasn't thrilled about it.

He inspected his bite like it was some alien artifact. "It's tasty. I've heard Aliens eat different things than us. But I didn't know they ate tastier food too."

Fair. The aliens here hoard the knowledge of a thousand snack aisles. Humans had noodles, rations, and questionable stews; aliens had the culinary equivalent of a flex.

Stronges said nothing. She just stood there—arms crossed, aura of someone who bench-pressed a small moon—watching us like a sentry whose hobby was emotional masochism.

After the chocolate, I focused on the black thing and ate it.

It was also tasty and it was also chocolate. Dark chocolate.

I didn't complain and ate silently like an unemployed thirty year old man living with his parents.

Then I moved to the last item. The white one.

Is it also a chocolate? Like milk chocolate? Or is it that white?

I didn't know but I was hungry so I ate it.

I ate it for a while and then I recognised what it was.

It was simple rice.

What a weird combination though? Two chocolates and rice? Why?

Nevertheless, I also found it tasty and since I was hungry, it tasted good. Anything would have tasted good.

Also, the rice cleared away the chocolate that had stuck to my teeth like women stuck to successful men and after eating the rice, I felt like I had eaten everything. Complete food I felt like I had eaten.

Like me, the prisoners also finished their meals and the robots came again to take away the steel plates, there weren't any women around so the robots had to do such things.

"We get no seconds? And water?" I asked.

Stronges clicked her tongue. "No seconds. Eat only to live. And don't drink water right away after eating. You all will get it after one hour. Now do whatever the fuck you want. I am going to sleep. We will start the training tomorrow. Behave yourself and if anyone disturbed my sleep…"

She glared at me.

"I will kill them between my boobs."

… Was that supposed to be a threat?

"Fucking hell!"

All of us flinched like an octopus getting a hold of a vibrator.

Someone shouted all of a sudden.

Everyone looked at the source and when I looked at it, I finally remembered this guy.

Jack the ghost.

I had forgotten about him. Like priests forget that they are being watched by more than just God.

But no one else knew Jack other than me so when they saw him, they felt dread.

Also, Sexis was here too. And his first words were:

"It can talk!?"

"Of course I can talk!" Jack retorted.

"I thought this was a ghost who was haunting Racis. That's why I said nothing about it as I didn't want to get haunted too."

I sighed.

Erect was also tense and he looked at me for an answer like feminists look at men for answers when their car isn't working.

The prisoners were the same and even Stronges wanted to know about him.

"Everyone, this is a ghost. His name is Jack Mihoff." I introduced the ghost.

"Oh. Jack Mihoff, eh? I think we will be good friends." Sexis said what I expected him to say.

After that, I told Jack's story. How he died, how lonely he was, and how loneliness is a gremlin that makes people do the dumbest, most tragic things. Some prisoners laughed at the punchlines in the wrong places. Some felt sorry. Also, Stronges wanted to kill the ghost but he was already dead. She wanted to kill him because the ghost tried to rape his landlady. As a fellow female, of course Stronges wanted to punish Jack.

But then I told her that this man was lonely and in his loneliness he did what he did. Also, Jack wasn't trying to rape the landlady. He simply believed he had summoned a spirit.

Hearing my point, Stronges' gaze softened again like my peepee after hitting the six times a day limit and she let go of her murderous thoughts about Jack.

Then, Jack talked about everything I did with his body and some of the prisoners frowned at me. Then they remembered I was their lord so they averted their eyes and talked with Jack again.

"Alright. Alright. That's enough." I said, clapping.

The prisoners had covered Jack from all around.

After my claps, they all moved away and I walked towards Jack.

"Tell me this, why did you shout after the threat of our trainer?"

Jack put a translucent hand to his head. "She said that whoever disturbs her sleep will die between her boobs. I wanted to be the one to disturb her but I can't die between her boobs because I am already dead!"

Yep. I figured it would be like this.

I looked at Stronges and her brows twitched after hearing that.

Before her anger could rise like the apes, I spoke:

"Alright. That's too bad. But instead of boobs, I will do what I had promised you. I will fix your body."

Jack let go of his head.

Then he nodded with a scowl. He was still angry at me for using his body like that but I will fix it.

I roamed my eyes and in one corner I found his dead body.

He had become bald, his head was deformed, his clothes were torn from the back. All in all, he looked like he stopped a girl from getting raped and got raped instead.

I had ordered a prisoner to take Jack's body with him to the basement and he had done just that. Heck, I had completely forgotten about it until Jack spoke himself.

I had no clue how to fix him. So I looked at the only person in the room with enough muscle to possibly sew a man back together and still have time for cardio.

Stronges Trum. Sexis' mom. The woman with a parenting style that could be used as a medieval torture technique.

I bowed with as much respect as my nervous knees could produce and said:

"Please fix his body, sir."

Stronges heard me and I was confident in my pleading abilities so I was sure Stronges' answer would be a ye—

"Hell no."

Motherfu—

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