A man goes into a library and asks for a book on cliffhangers.
The librarian says;
…
Welcome to K Cup country, where the coffee's fake and so is my enthusiasm.
It was early morning. I had my breakfast—some dry bread, two eggs, and the last shreds of hope.
Erect was on the floor below mine, probably doing pushups or crying over emotional damage, and I hadn't met him since I sent him his breakfast
But before I met him, I had to do something important. I had to summon my family.
Not like, demon circle and candles summon—but the next worst thing: emotionally.
Because loneliness hits different when you're rich. Like, "sitting in a golden bathtub full of tears" different.
I didn't want to be lonely. And more importantly, I didn't want them to be lonely.
(Also, sending money every month sucked harder than a mosquito on steroids.)
So I made a bold choice.
Call them here.
Live with me.
No money transfers.
Win-win.
Economy, speedrunned.
But how should I contact them? They lived far. Like, "if-you-throw-a-rock-you'll-hit-another-tax-zone" far.
Sending a letter was risky. They might tear it open like drug dogs thinking I hid cash inside.
But then I remembered—I had a cheat code.
[Spam Caller]
With this Skill, I could mentally call anyone like a budget Professor X with ADHD.
No call drops. No charges. No consent.
So, naturally, I spammed the whole family in one go.
"I am Racis. And all of you can come to K Cup country and live with me inside my castle. That's all. Love you, grandma."
Cut.
I didn't wait for replies.
I knew they would come here pretty soon and I was also missing my grandma.
Now what?
I was too OP. One punch and the plot would collapse.
I could end the whole storyline today—invade Aliens, kill their king, do a Fortnite dance.
But… if I end the world, who'll laugh at my jokes?
Not Heroes—they laugh to impress.
Not humans—they laugh because I insulted some woman they hate.
Only the Aliens—those beautiful, bug-eyed bastards—laughed from their hearts.
So I wasn't ready for Endgame.
This is a slice of life.
Chill, folks.
Not everything has to be blood, guts, and fanfiction trauma dumps.
Whoever likes gore, their dad is a whore.
Yup. We dropping moral bars today.
Anyway, Time skip.
Three days later.
Me, Erect, and Sophia were standing at the castle gate like bouncers at a family reunion.
Why?
To welcome my circus—I mean, my family.
I'd just seen Erect today for the first time since our salary negotiation
He hadn't mentioned his salary since.
So, naturally, I assumed I won the argument.
Sophia had also moved in the same day but I was only seeing her today
Anyway, the castle was about to get lively.
After my grandma died back on Earth, the house had turned into a haunted depression chamber.
I used to sleep under the bed just to talk to the monster living there.
He was lonely too.
He once told me he gets sad when I hide my legs under the blanket.
He just wanted to touch them. No harm.
Just a little… caress.
Anyway, back to the plot.
Family. They're coming today.
I had already told the gate guards to let them in—no questions. Especially not "How long?"
My father and grandpa would surely show them the exact length. Heck, if goblin aunty Sofia used her brain, she might make my mother show her length too.
So I just ordered the guards to let my family in without any questions.
"When are they coming, my lord? We have been waiting for ten minutes now. They should have arrived by now." Erect said, fidgeting like a man holding in a fart during a job interview.
"Ten minutes is not long, Erect. Wait a little more."
"Ten minutes is not a long time?" He blinked.
"No. Whoever told you that was being generous so as to not hurt your feelings."
Erect went silent.
It seemed he had some experience with a woman who told him ten minutes were fine.
"Then my uncle must have lied."
Wait. What?
"Your uncle?" I asked. "He told you that ten minutes is a long time."
"Yes. When I was little, he'd do things to me. And after ten minutes, he'd stop. Saying he was tired. Anyway, I'm excited to meet your family!"
Bro.
BRO.
I thought this was some slice of life setting. What do I even say to that?
I can't make a joke. I'd be cancelled by fictional Twitter.
And don't just get excited for my family after dropping a nuke like that!
"So your uncle, where is he now? And did Sophia ever meet him?" I asked, afraid of the answer.
"No. He chose me. He saw something special in me. The same reason Supreme Man chose me for being a Hero. Now my uncle is dead. The Aliens killed him along with my parents. But his belief still resides inside me."
I am not sure you only have his belief inside you. And the 'special' thing that Supreme Man saw in you is entirely different from the 'special' your uncle saw in you. Two different spectrums. One is heroic, the other's a court case.
Anyway,
Family. Focus.
They should've arrived by now.
I mean, the moment they would arrive I am sure, my father would run around shouting, 'I am here, my son!'
"I am here, my son!"
Yeah. Just like that.
Oh.
My words came true again as a man was running towards my castle with his arms spread.
He was my father.
Arms wide open, hope in his chest, and hair like a discount Hugh Jackman.
White shirt. Black pants. Brown hair. That's my dad.
I described him as best as I could as I know all your imagination prowess gets spent in envisioning your life with a girlfriend.
Behind him, the rest of my family came charging like a stampede of emotional baggage.
Erect and Sophia smiled too, probably remembering their own parents.
Now I just hoped my father doesn't do something that would awaken Erect's memories of his Uncle.
"My son," my father said, reaching me first and crushing me in a hug like I was a toothpaste tube with emotional issues.
Then he stood in front of me, smiling like a man who's about to ruin the vibe.
"Look what I brought for you."
His hands dove into his pocket like a magician at a funeral.
Out came a bottle.
White liquid inside.
Thick. Sinister. Questionable.
"It's milk!"
I exhaled the sigh of a man who just found out the bomb was fake.
Oh, thank God. Just milk.
...
Wait.
This man brought milk for me?
I stared at my father.
His smile widened like a JPEG being zoomed in on during a police investigation.
"Yes. It's my milk!"
…
I turned slowly to Erect, whose pupils had already dilated like saucers at a therapy buffet.
"Erect," I said, waving my hand at my father like I was passing down a curse, "This man is your uncle from now."