Kyle Number Five's voice crackled through from off-stage, sounding desperate. "Boss, we have a problem."
Tyrix's grin twitched slightly. "What NOW, Kyle Number Five? I thought I demoted you to janitor duty."
"You did, but hear me out," Kyle Five pleaded. "We picked all these legendary people—Plato, Elvis, a Spartan princess, Lu Bu—and then we explicitly rejected the femboy on camera. The optics are terrible. People are already posting about it on divine social media. Hashtag FemboyGate is trending. We're going to look discriminatory."
Tyrix was silent for a long moment. Ruho could practically hear the divine entity grinding his teeth.
"Fine," Tyrix muttered, his voice barely audible. Then, louder, with significantly less enthusiasm than before: "The femboy. In row D. Seat eighty thousand and two. Please step forward."
Reality shimmered, and suddenly there were six people on stage instead of just Ruho and Tyrix.
First was Plato, looking mildly confused but philosophically accepting of his situation. He was shorter than Ruho expected, with kind eyes and a beard that had definitely seen better days.
Next was the Spartan daughter she couldn't have been more than twenty, with dark hair pulled back in a practical style, wearing a simpler version of Spartan armor that still looked like it could withstand a battering ram. She was grinning ear to ear, clearly thrilled to be here.
Elvis stood in the center, somehow managing to look cool even while being teleported against his will. The rhinestones on his jumpsuit caught the spotlight and created little rainbow refractions across the stage.
Lu Bu was terrifying up close. Easily 7 and a half feet tall, muscles that looked carved from stone, and an expression that suggested he was calculating exactly how long it would take to kill everyone in the stadium if he felt like it. His armor was ornate but practical, clearly designed for actual combat rather than ceremony.
And then there was the femboy.
Ruho blinked.
He... she? They were wearing modern clothes—ripped jeans that hugged curves that seemed almost anatomically impossible, a crop top that showed off a flat stomach, and had shoulder-length hair styled in a way that probably required an hour of work every morning. The face was delicate, pretty in a way that made Ruho do a double-take. Narrow shoulders. Hips that seemed to defy the typical male skeletal structure. And absolutely, definitely, unmistakably a massive ass that the jeans were working overtime to contain.
That's a girl, Ruho thought to himself. Has to be. No way that's a guy. Look at those hips. Those are girl hips.
The femboy caught him staring and gave a little wave, fingers wiggling.
Ruho, thinking he was being polite to a cute girl, waved back quickly.
The femboy's face went bright red, a blush spreading across their cheeks, and they looked down at their feet with a small smile.
Off-stage, Ruho could hear someone Kyle Number Four, probably trying to say something. "Boss, should we tell him that—"
"SHHHHHHH!" Tyrix hissed, his grin somehow achieving new levels of manic delight. "Shut up. Shut UP. This is GOLD."
"But he clearly doesn't know that—"
"I SAID SHUT UP!" Tyrix whispered frantically. "If we can soft-launch Ruho being into femboys, the publicity will go WILD. Think about it new demographic! Expanded audience! Plus, the kid's a gooner. There's NO way he hasn't read a femboy hentai manga or two in his extensive... research collection. This is a GOLDMINE for ratings!"
Ruho, completely oblivious to this conversation, kept glancing at the femboy. Cute girl. Definitely a cute girl. Kinda alternative style, but that was fine. The crop top was doing good work. Very good work.
Off-stage, Ruho could hear multiple Kyles trying desperately not to laugh. Someone made a choking sound. Someone else was definitely crying from suppressed laughter.
Even Lu Bu's stern expression cracked slightly, one eyebrow raising as he observed Ruho's continued obliviousness.
"Alright!" Tyrix clapped his hands together, forcing himself back into game show host mode even though his shoulders were shaking slightly. "Let's keep this moving! KYLE! KYLE NUMBERS SIX THROUGH TWENTY! I need BRIEFCASES! Fifteen briefcases! THREE for each of our five guests! Move move MOVE!"
"Six guests, boss," one of the Kyles corrected quietly.
"FIVE guests!" Tyrix insisted. "The philosopher, the warrior princess, the King, the legend, and the... other one. That's five. I can COUNT."
"But you just teleported six people to—"
"ARE YOU ARGUING WITH ME, KYLE NUMBER EIGHT?!"
"No boss, sorry boss."
Ruho watched as fifteen briefcases materialized on stage, carried by invisible forces—or maybe more Kyles that he couldn't see. The cases were identical: sleek black metal with glowing silver latches, about the size of a large laptop case. They floated through the air and arranged themselves on pedestals that rose from the stage floor.
Each guest got three briefcases positioned in front of them. Plato looked at his with philosophical interest (IDK how to describe . The Spartan daughter immediately started examining them like they might be weapons. Elvis leaned back in the chair that had also materialized, looking completely relaxed. Lu Bu stared at his briefcases with the same intensity he'd stare at an enemy formation. And the femboy sat down delicately, crossed their legs in a way that made Ruho look again because wow those proportions really were something, and gave the camera a little smile.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Tyrix announced, his voice booming across the stadium. "Here's how this works! Each of our DISTINGUISHED guests holds THREE briefcases! TWO contain GOOD prizes! ONE contains a BAD prize! Ruho will choose ONE briefcase from each guest—that's FIVE total choices!"
"FIVE!" Tyrix insisted. "Now, the contents of each briefcase have been RANDOMLY assigned! Even our guests don't know which is which! Even I don't know! Only the universe itself knows! And at the END of the game, we reveal what Ruho got! Will it be blessings? Will it be curses? Will it be a beautiful mix of both?! WHO! KNOWS!"
The crowd roared their approval.
Tyrix turned to Ruho, his grin somehow conveying genuine excitement despite having no actual facial features besides teeth. "Ready to test your luck, kid?"
Ruho looked at the six guests—five legendary figures and one very attractive person he still thought was a girl. He looked at the fifteen briefcases, each one potentially containing his salvation or his doom. He looked at the crowd of over a million entities, all watching, all waiting.
He was covered in dried blood. He was exhausted. He was confused. And he was very much not understanding the joke that apparently everyone else was in on.
"I guess?" he said weakly.
"PHENOMENAL!" Tyrix threw his arms up. "THEN LET THE GAME BEGIN!"
The lights dimmed. Spotlights focused on each guest. The briefcases began to glow with internal light, pulsing gently. The crowd went silent, the anticipation thick enough to cut with a knife.
And Ruho stood there, about to make five—or six—choices that would determine his immediate future, while over a million people watched and waited to see if he'd pick salvation or doom.