My Pick Up Artist System
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chapter-192
The comments section of Ben's feature was exploding! His eyes lit up! 'I'm going to be a star!'
Then he read what people were saying:
"If this nerd can do it, so can I!"
"I don't believe I'll be worse than an Oompa-Loompa."
"This guy looks familiar. Isn't he from that meme shoppin's got me hoppin'? Shlomo?"Many young people found Ben's writing inspirational, but not for the reason he wanted--they all used it to step on his head!
Despite that, he somehow maintained a shaky smile…even though his eyes were dead… 'I suppose it's still good. At least the comments aren't negative.' Then he scrolled down:
"How'd they put this fool on the front of the site? He looks like the kind of guy that starts steroids to play musical chairs."
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"He looks like Jesse Eisenberg if he was born with fetal alcohol syndrome."
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"He looks like an undercover cop at an elementary school sleepover."…
For the first time as a content creator, Ben had run into the omnipresent internet haters. That wasn't the end of the spiteful comments either:
"Little b*tch, I will f*ck your soul in hell!"
Ben shook his head. 'Damn, the 4channers are here…'
When most writers read hateful comments like these early in their careers, they became upset. Sometimes, it was to the point it affected their writing. However, after thinking of how to respond, Ben only sneered and cracked his fingers, because these fools just walked into his dragon cave without knowing it…
The thing was, Male's Health already provided him with an author's account in order to promote "author-fan interaction." So Ben planned to do just that. He'd even go one step further, with the interaction in his mind being the kind to create lasting memories, ones the fans would never forget, without the intervention of an expensive therapist...
Most of the commenters possessed user accounts that linked to their social media with photos. So Ben took the time to get to know them, visiting their pages one by one, which allowed him to customize heartfelt messages. That's how he began showing his appreciation:
"You seem like the type of dude to run for city council so you could petition to put speed bumps everywhere, just so you could drive with a butt plug."
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"You look like a grown man who lives in your parent's attic because your younger brother beat you in a wrestling match to live in the larger bas.e.m.e.nt."
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"You look like an ice cream sandwich Jonah Hill took a bite out of and then threw away because it wasn't worth ruining his diet."
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"If Trump finished building the wall over Mexico, you look like where he'd build the next wall, just around you."
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"You seem like the type of dude who's mother collects fireflies every night because they can't afford electricity."
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"You seem like the type of dude to get mad at the guy sitting next to you for not clapping when a plane lands."
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"You look like if a character from Rugrats grew up to work on a Bubba Gump Shrimp boat."
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"You look like the type of dude that watches film on opponents before playing foosball."
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"You look like the type of dude that intentionally gets sent to prison because he's lonely."
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"You seem like you worked 2 jobs to pay your way through a PhD at clown college."
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"You look like if scientists merged the DNA of guinea pigs and a bicycle seat."
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"You seem like the type of dude that tries on underwear before buying it."
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"You look like an orangutang suffering from a peanut allergy."
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"You look like a valet at someone's colon."
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After Ben gave his personal thanks to each and every one of his loyal fans for their support, those who were online and read his words, almost fell back in their chairs!
That wasn't the end of it either! Headaches, coughing, blurry vision! Their symptoms varied, but upon reading Ben's message for them, they all felt unwell!
It was the effect of Ben's title!
[Poison Dragon(fine): Your verbal insults carry a little bonus soul damage in proportion to each insult's effectiveness on the target]
They'd never experienced such intense and concentrated hate! Right away, most of them quit, realizing they were dealing with a genuine veteran of vitriol... However, a few persisted and fired back:
"You look like the type of dude that combs his hair on the toilet."
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"You seem like a guy who'd drive a golf cart on the highway."
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"You look like if a Pez dispenser came alive."
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Reading these, Ben's eyes flared, accepting the challenge. Opening his draconic maw, he spit his poison breath!
"You look like everything you own was exchanged for tickets from an arcade."
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"You seem like the type of dude that uses smooth peanut butter as lubricant."
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"You look like Tom Hanks if he was a hot dog eating champion."
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"You seem like a guy who does voiceover work for gay p.o.r.nos."
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"You look like a DJ at a Quidditch match."
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Between rounds, Ben customized his signature. So now, each of his comments ended with his title—Poison Dragon. Everyone who read that thought it was very unusual for someone in a health magazine to call themselves such a thing…but they would also admit--it was too fitting.
After Ben's last reply, to the surprise of everyone watching, all the negative remarks stopped, vanishing into thin air, as if the criticizers had nothing more to say. Yet, it wasn't that they didn't want to talk, but that they couldn't!
Migraines, vertigo, lightheadedness! Their symptoms worsened! Their morale and health bars bottomed out! It was the end of the match! The rabble-rousers lost!
From the digital sidelines, hundreds of people watched this entire process in amazement.
"My god, this cursing ability…"
"Are those posters ok? Can someone check they didn't suicide?"
"He's good at lifting weights, but his strongest muscle is his tongue!"
Ben didn't know, but among that large crowd, dozens of hot-blooded youth both among the original cursers and the onlookers were re-reading his words with bright eyes, all thinking a similar thought: 'There is one I could follow. There is one I could call King...'
They were the dwarves, no, the trolls…who for the first time, admitted they were inferior. Who for the first time, found someone they could look up to. Who for the first time, found someone worthy to lead them into battle! It was the birth of Ben's troll army!
There was not yet anything official to bind them, but everyone who shared those powerful sentiments made the vow to pay attention to this writer, and to remember his name—Benjamin Romero, the one known as--The Poison Dragon.
Meanwhile, Ben was watching all this, drinking a Yoohoo…
It was his first time getting a taste of fame, and although it was bitter, there was no taste more suitable for a poison dragon…besides of course, Yoohoo…
In fact, it wasn't the first time Ben's face was in the public eye. Although without his knowledge, he was in several memes before, but on this occasion, his true name attached to the content. That's what allowed the system to recognize it. In any case, it delighted him to gain another stat point out of nowhere, giving him more confidence to complete his current death challenge.
*Sippp* *Sippp*
After making sure to get every drop of chocolatey goodness, Ben threw away the drink box and decided to get down to business. There was still one more matter to take care of—spending his points.
Although a lot happened today, his plans from the day before hadn't changed, so the only thing to spend his points on was a high level mystery box. Knowing that, Ben navigated to the store screen, spent 5000 points, and purchased the silver box. Without delay, he opened it to receive his item.
A few seconds later…in his hands, there was a pair of large yellow goggles.
[Beer Goggles(Item, Uncommon) x1 - Bends the light in a way to make unattractive women seem somewhat more attractive]
...
Reading this, Ben shook his head. He really didn't have a use for this since he was dating beautiful girls. However, one man's trash was another man's pleasure… "I'll give it to Antonio for his birthday." He knew his cousin would appreciate it as it would widen his perspective, or perhaps narrow it…
Finished going over the system benefits, Ben prepared to start studying, when his phone rang. Looking at the ID, he saw it was a call from Miyuki, so he picked it up. "Hey, babe."
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He could hear her breathing but there was a long pause before she spoke. "Benjamin-san…someone's…you..."
He sat upright in his chair as he tried to focus on what Miyuki was saying. "What's the matter? I can't understand you."
For the next few seconds, only Miyuki's unsteady breathing passed over the phone. Then, she responded. "Benjamin-san, could you please come to my room now?"
He narrowed his eyes, realizing she sounded troubled. His body language reading skill also included knowledge of certain voice patterns, not that he needed it when her tone was so off. "What's wrong?"
"Can you please just come?"
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Ben's face became serious. "I'll be right there."
Then, she hung up, and Ben stared at his phone for a long time. He didn't understand what was going on but he'd never heard Miyuki sound so distraught. 'She mentioned "someone" and it almost sounded like…she wasn't alone.' Taking a deep breath, Ben thought about the possibilities and how he could prepare.
A short while later...he walked out of his room, marching to see what trouble Miyuki was in.