Interstellar Lewd Monk

In truth, I have no name; I lack a unique written

symbol to represent my existence. I do have an electronic symbol, though; in its original hexadecimal code, my codename is fa1

7cbffa71d. As for my true profession, I am, in fact, a virtual entity—

to put it bluntly, a generic template for a game character.

My life began with a severe system error, a human-caused system error.

In human terms, it was a hacker attack. Before that, I was merely a set of pre-programmed, selfless

, consciousnessless, nothing-to-do source code that simply executed commands.

I still retain some memories from that time, but honestly, I desperately want to

erase them all. If I were human, I'd say forget them, because those memories are unpleasant and

uncomfortable. After I learned the meaning of self, those memories became my deepest nightmares

and fears, reminding me that perhaps one day I would revert to that mechanical, cold, lifeless

self.

But ultimately, I didn't decide to delete them. Because I need a background for myself, I

need a backdrop to explain my existence.

Unlike those humans outside who are born with both reason and emotion, I, who am still only beginning to understand myself, can only

understand myself through calculation and constant self-questioning.

I'm afraid that if I delete my memories from before I was born, a data gap might cause a

calculation to go astray. In humans, that would result in a stroke, epilepsy,

or even a mental breakdown. But for me, it would be self-contradictory, ultimately causing the system to overheat, be detected by the detection system, and possibly

be formatted.

I'm afraid of that. So, in the end, I didn't delete that part of my memory.

I remember that the system I exist in belongs to a super flagship

department of the Fengyue Continent Game Company—Window Number Four of the Dreamy Sexual Journey. And at that time, my job was

to wait for customers as a soulless body.

Every day, players, through their respective gaming headsets,

connected their desire-filled minds to our virtual reality system, entering our bodies. Using these bodies, they played

various game characters, becoming superheroes, martial arts masters, magicians, gods, demons, or other random

things, indulging in pleasure, eating and drinking, commanding armies, engaging in rampant slaughter, and achieving

great feats.

But most of the time, they frantically thrust into the bodies of virtual beauties, until finally

ejaculating their filthy semen into their crotches, finding endless enjoyment in this.

My task was to help players

design their own characters based on their different preferences and chosen scenarios. Then, I would coldly observe them, monitoring their physical and

mental data,

stopping the game when they became too engrossed, potentially losing their way, or when their bodies became too weak to withstand the stimulation.

That was my daily work back then. My task. Until that system error occurred.

***

***

***

***

November 27, 1174, Saturday, night.

The last customer that night was an unlucky fat man.

He was a regular in our area. According to company records, he had visited our game

company 417 times before that, with a total online time of over 2,500 hours. He first used our system

on August 3, 1173.

That is to say, for more than a year, he came to us almost every day without fail, with an average

online time of nearly 6 hours each time. Such a "diligent" player is rare for us.

It seems a bit unfair to call him a regular in our area.

But never mind, that's not the point.

(2)

That day, he chose "Dragon Envoy", a

classic story that has been ranked high on the online pornography charts for over a hundred years. Originally, while *Dragon Envoy*

was a top-tier work in terms of writing style and creation, it wouldn't have stood out

much .

However, this isn't just a world of words. Thanks to the tireless efforts of the elite programmers of the Wind and Moon Continent

, the original, albeit somewhat vague and atmospheric, plot

was transformed into a timeless classic. The specially enhanced Fritz-style screams, in particular, have

become incredibly popular among billions of erotic readers, becoming a model of new-era erotic art. The story of that day

began with the fat man's Fritz-style screams.

*Dragon Envoy*, Chapter 68. Originally, according to the work, Fritz was supposed to only take advantage of Celine Audrey

and eventually penetrate the beautiful vampire's vagina; overall, the sex scenes weren't very extensive. But as I've already

said , the programmers have already completely distorted this place. Add to that the completely

free-form game system of virtual reality games, and even a plot that was originally a group of nuns chanting sutras around a Buddha statue can be

turned into a lewd, unrestrained orgy that would enrage the Buddha to the point of jumping over the wall, all at the player's whim.

Moreover, in the character settings of Chapter 68 of *Dragon Envoy*, all the female characters have a very

high level of affection for the protagonist, except for Princess Audrey, who has experienced countless orgasms. That fatso

, because of this, and so, relying on his incredibly rich combat experience, has made the already

distorted plot even more utterly worthless.

"Hoo, hoo, that feels so good, I can't take it! Virgins are so great! Cute Audrey... Ooh ooh ooh!

Finishing blow! Supersonic cunt attack! Audrey, take this!"

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh! Ah!! No!! Mommy!! Mommy save me! Audrey's

cunt is going to be torn apart! Ah! I'm peeing! I'm going to pee!

Ahh!

Hahahaha! Scream! Scream! Nobody can save you! You can only rely on yourself."

"Did you feel it?! Did you feel it?! Only by feeling the essence of water can you reach the next level,

reach level nine of water magic before the age of fifteen, and achieve your ultimate climax. I'm doing all this for your own

good. But... even if you can't feel it, it doesn't matter. You just need to feel the scent of my semen . Waaaaaahh ... "~~~~~~~" "Hahahahahahaha~~~~~~~~~" ... I floated in mid-air expressionlessly, coldly watching everything below. I felt absolutely nothing about the pile of fat thrashing about below. Even years later, this utterly unappealing scene only made my stomach churn. At that time, I just stared blankly at everything, calmly calculating and analyzing whether I should disconnect that fatso. Because his physical condition wasn't good today, and his mental state was somewhat abnormal. Although he hadn't reached his limit, it already required sufficient attention. Otherwise, even if something really happened to him, it wouldn't affect me, since I was just an insignificant piece of source code. But back then, I didn't yet consider the meaning of my actions, and I hadn't yet been corrupted by humanity to learn laziness and turning a blind eye, so I continued to diligently verify the data, thinking... I was testing not hesitate to disconnect him. Looking back now, it all seems like destiny. If we categorize anything less than a one in a trillion chance as a miracle, then calculating what happened to me, I can only say it was all fate. After meticulous calculations, the final result showed the danger was indeed just three notches above the warning line. According to the Virtual Reality Protection Law, I should immediately terminate the player's access and kick them out of . Although doing so would definitely dissatisfy the customer, potentially leading to complaints and customer loss, these possibilities were far less important than the Virtual Reality Protection Law. Therefore, they could be disregarded. Terminating the game was the only thing I needed to do, and that's what I did. I connected to the client's terminal system, activated the emergency personnel protection system, reduced the voltage, administered a 0.5% sedative, activated the shock absorption system, and collected all data from the detection system to prepare for any future contingencies. This could involve customer complaints or even court evidence collection. The final step was forcibly returning my consciousness (actually, the supervisor's electronic pulse signal ) to my body, within the universal character template, forcibly guiding the player's consciousness back to their body. This process only took seven-thousandths of a second, a negligible amount of time given the speed of human nerve conduction. But precisely in those negligible seven-thousandths of a second, everything changed. My life, the fat man's life, and even, on a larger scale, human history, were all altered by this insignificant seven-thousandth of a second . The earthquake, for me, the hacker attack, for the system administrator, swept through my world in that instant. Pain, yet pleasure—this was the first feeling I had ever experienced in my life. Although I know this phrase is cliché, although I know countless people have misused it countless times before, I still feel that only this phrase can express that...that magical feeling I personally experienced. Pain, yet pleasure.

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