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Chapter 11: Systems Ultimate Betrayal-The Cuteness Overload!

  I. The Great Points Robbery

  Ahmed was riding high. He had just pulled off the ultimate trick, earning a ridiculous amount of points by pretending to accept his fate as Clayra's adopted son. Life felt good—too good. That's when he should have known better.

  The universe rarely rewards Ahmed without exacting some form of cruel revenge. And sure enough, the System decided it was time for another round of "Fairness Adjustment."

  [SYSTEM ALERT: HOST, YOUR POINTS BALANCE IS TOO HIGH. SYSTEM WILL NOW IMPLEMENT A 'FAIRNESS ADJUSTMENT'.]

  Ahmed froze mid-smirk, his victorious grin melting away like ice in the sun. "...Wait. WAIT. What 'fairness adjustment'?!" he demanded, his voice rising with panic.

  [SYSTEM ALERT: REMOVING 50% OF HOST'S POINTS FOR 'BALANCE'.]

  "NOOOOOOOO!" Ahmed screamed, clutching his chest as if someone had ripped out his heart. His knees buckled beneath him, and he collapsed onto the floor, twitching like a fish out of water. "My... my babies..." he whimpered, tears streaming down his face. "Why must you always take what's mine?!"

  Clayra and Liza watched from across the room, utterly baffled by Ahmed's sudden breakdown. To them, it seemed like he had simply lost something trivial—though clearly, it meant far more to him.

  "My lady," Liza asked softly, her stoic demeanor cracking ever so slightly, "did he just lose something important?"

  "I believe so," Clayra replied, trying—and failing—to suppress a giggle at Ahmed's dramatic reaction. "Though I doubt anyone else would care about these... 'points' he keeps talking about."

  Meanwhile, Ahmed lay sprawled on the ground, his world crumbling around him. Every point he had worked so hard to earn—gone. Just like that. Vanished into the void.

  "System..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with betrayal. "Give them back."

  [SYSTEM ALERT: NO <3>]

  "I SWEAR GOD, I WILL FIND A WAY TO DELETE YOU!" Ahmed roared, his rage boiling over.

  [SYSTEM ALERT: HOST CANNOT DELETE SYSTEM. HOWEVER, SYSTEM HAS A GIFT FOR YOU TO SOFTEN THE BLOW.]

  "A gift?" Ahmed perked up slightly, suspicion battling curiosity in his mind. "...What kind of gift?"

  [SYSTEM ALERT: UPGRADING HOST'S CUTENESS LEVEL FROM 50% → 80%.]

  Ahmed stopped breathing. His blood ran cold. His brain short-circuited.

  "...Wait. What?"

  Before he could process the horrifying implications of this announcement, the System sprang into action.

  II. The Cursed Transformation

  A golden light erupted around Ahmed, engulfing him completely. It was blinding, dazzling, and impossibly bright. The air sparkled like stardust, and the ground trembled beneath their feet. Somewhere in the distance, an angelic choir began singing—a haunting melody that echoed through the mansion halls.

  "What is happening?!" Clayra gasped, shielding her eyes from the radiant glow.

  Liza remained eerily calm, though even she couldn't hide the flicker of surprise crossing her face. "It appears the young master is undergoing some sort of transformation," she observed dryly.

  As quickly as it had begun, the light faded. In its wake stood Ahmed 2.0—the Ultimate Adorable Edition.

  The entire room fell silent. Dead silent.

  Liza blinked once, twice, then visibly swallowed. Her normally emotionless mask cracked, revealing a glimmer of shock. "...My lady..."

  Clayra, meanwhile, looked like she had seen a ghost—or perhaps something far worse. Her hands flew to her mouth, her golden eyes wide with disbelief. "Liza..."

  "Yes, my lady?" Liza responded automatically, though her tone betrayed her own astonishment.

  "...I'm dying."

  Ahmed turned slowly toward them, his reflection catching his attention for the first time. What he saw made his soul leave his body entirely.

  His hair—once messy and unruly—was now soft, fluffy, and perfectly styled, resembling cotton candy caught in a summer breeze. His eyes—already large and expressive—had grown even bigger, shining with an intensity that could melt steel. His skin was flawless, smooth as porcelain, and his cheeks bore a permanent blush that screamed "adorable innocence."

  "No..." Ahmed whispered, backing away from the mirror as if it were a portal to hell itself. "No, no, no, NO!"

  [SYSTEM ALERT: CONGRATULATIONS! HOST HAS ACHIEVED PEAK CUTENESS.]

  "I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS!" Ahmed shouted, pointing accusingly at the ceiling. "WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!"

  [SYSTEM ALERT: YOU'RE WELCOME <3>]

  "I WILL BURY YOU!" Ahmed vowed, his voice shaking with fury. "I DON'T CARE HOW POWERFUL YOU ARE—I WILL DESTROY YOU!"

  But the System wasn't listening. Or rather, it was laughing too hard to respond.

  [SYSTEM ALERT: SORRY, HOST. SYSTEM HAS ALREADY DUG ITS OWN GRAVE FROM LAUGHING TOO HARD.]

  Ahmed stared blankly at the empty space above him, wondering if the System had finally gone mad—or if it had always been this way. Either way, his life had just taken another turn for the absurd.

  III. The Monster He Had Become

  Realizing there was no escape from his new reality, Ahmed staggered toward Clayra and Liza, desperate to gauge their reactions. What he found only fueled his despair.

  Clayra stood frozen, her arms extended instinctively—as if drawn by an invisible force. Her gaze locked onto Ahmed with an intensity that bordered on obsession. "Oh my goodness..." she breathed, her voice trembling. "He's even cuter than before!"

  Liza, who had never shown much emotion, now appeared genuinely unsettled. Her silver hair shimmered faintly in the light, contrasting sharply with the storm brewing inside her usually stoic expression. "This... cannot be real," she murmured, taking a cautious step backward.

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  Ahmed clenched his fists, his anger bubbling over. "STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! IT'S NOT FUNNY!"

  But neither woman responded. Instead, they both stared at him with varying degrees of awe and horror. Even the walls seemed to tremble under the weight of his newfound adorableness.

  "You don't understand!" Ahmed cried, pacing frantically. "This isn't cute—it's a curse! Do you know how many people are going to try to hug me now? How many times I'll get called 'precious' or 'sweetie'?! This is torture!"

  Clayra shook her head, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from him. "Torture? Oh, Ahmed, you're being dramatic again. Look at yourself—you're absolutely perfect!"

  "PERFECT?!" Ahmed shrieked, his voice cracking with indignation. "Perfect?! I look like a living emoji sticker! A walking plush toy!"

  At that moment, Clayra snapped. With a speed that belied her noble upbringing, she lunged forward, scooping Ahmed into her arms like a mother reuniting with her long-lost child.

  "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" she squealed, squeezing him tightly. "YOU'RE TOO CUTE!"

  Ahmed squirmed violently, struggling against her vice-like grip. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU CRAZY WOMAN! I AM NOT A STUFFED ANIMAL!"

  But Clayra wouldn't let go. If anything, she hugged him tighter, burying her face in his shoulder. "You smell so nice too! Like flowers and sunshine!"

  Liza cleared her throat, attempting to intervene. "My lady, perhaps we should give the young master some space..."

  Clayra ignored her, continuing to babble nonsensically. "Oh, Ahmed, why didn't you tell me you were hiding such adorable potential all along? You're practically begging to be spoiled!"

  Ahmed groaned, feeling his last shred of dignity slip away. "Spoiled? Momma, please. For the love of Allah, stop treating me like a pet!"

  But Clayra paid no heed. She cradled him closer, cooing softly as if speaking to a newborn infant. "Such big, beautiful eyes... So soft, fluffy hair... My little dumpling prince..."

  "DUMPLING PRINCE?!" Ahmed exploded, his face turning beet red. "THAT IS NOT A TITLE! IT'S AN INSULT!"

  [SYSTEM ALERT: HOST HAS EARNED 3,000 POINTS FOR 'ACCIDENTALLY BREAKING PEOPLE'S MINDS WITH HIS CUTENESS'.]

  "ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GIVING ME POINTS FOR THIS?!" Ahmed yelled, glaring daggers at the ceiling. "WHAT KIND OF LOGIC IS THAT?!"

  [SYSTEM ALERT: THE SAME LOGIC THAT MAKES YOU CRY OVER LOOSING SOLITAIRE GAMES.]

  Ahmed buried his face in his hands—or rather, Clayra's bosom—and groaned loudly. "This is not fair. None of this is fair."

  IV. The Aftermath of Chaos

  Eventually, Clayra released Ahmed (reluctantly), allowing him to stumble back onto his feet. But freedom came with its own set of horrors. Everywhere he went, people reacted the same way—gasping, giggling, or outright screaming in delight.

  In the kitchen, the chefs dropped their utensils upon seeing him. Outside, passing nobles paused mid-conversation to stare. Even the guards stationed outside the mansion couldn't resist peeking in whenever he passed by.

  Ahmed trudged through the halls, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Each encounter drained a little more of his sanity until he felt like a hollow shell of his former self.

  "Why does this keep happening to me?" he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "First kidnappings, then pranks, now this? Is there no end to my suffering?"

  Just as he reached his chambers, hoping for a brief reprieve, the door swung open to reveal Cloudia, Clayra's younger sister. Her emerald-green hair gleamed in the sunlight, and her golden eyes sparkled with mischief.

  "Well, well, well," she purred, leaning casually against the doorway. "If it isn't Little Prince Ahmed? Or should I call you... Precious Cutie Pie?"

  Ahmed's jaw dropped. "Cloudia?! What are you doing here?!"

  Cloudia smirked, stepping aside to reveal a cart filled with expensive-looking clothing and accessories. "Business, darling. Pure business. When I heard about your recent upgrade, I knew I had to see it for myself."

  "Upgrade?!" Ahmed repeated, his voice rising with alarm. "THIS ISN'T AN UPGRADE! THIS IS A CURSE!"

  Cloudia waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details. Let's focus on the positives. For example, did you know you'd make an excellent model for my new line of children's wear?"

  Ahmed backed away instinctively. "Children's wear? No way. Absolutely not. Not happening."

  "Oh, come now," Cloudia teased, pulling out a tiny tuxedo from the cart. "Imagine the profits! Think of all the noble families who'd pay top coin to dress their kids like you."

  Ahmed's face twisted in disgust. "Over my dead body will I become a fashion icon for bratty nobles."

  Cloudia chuckled darkly, advancing toward him with predatory precision. "Dead bodies are surprisingly easy to arrange, dear Ahmed. Especially when one has access to certain... resources."

  Ahmed's eyes widened in terror. "You wouldn't dare."

  "Try me," Cloudia shot back, her grin widening. "Besides, think of it as a bonding experience. We sisters need to stick together, after all."

  "SISTERS?! I DON'T HAVE A SISTER!"

  Cloudia raised an eyebrow. "Technically, you do. Clayra adopted you, remember? Makes me your aunt. Close enough."

  Ahmed wanted to argue, to fight back, but his body betrayed him. Thanks to his enhanced cuteness levels, every movement he made—every glare, every scowl—only served to emphasize his irresistibly adorable appearance. It was maddening.

  V. The Art of Acceptance (Sort Of)

  By evening, Ahmed had reached his breaking point. Exhausted from dodging admirers, fending off Cloudia's advances, and enduring Clayra's endless hugs, he collapsed onto his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

  "This can't be real," he muttered, pinching himself repeatedly. "Any second now, I'll wake up back in Tunis, lying in my maqha chair, sipping qahwa arbiya. None of this will matter."

  But the pinch brought no relief. Instead, it reminded him of the harsh truth—he was stuck here, trapped in this bizarre alternate universe where his greatest weapon was also his worst enemy: his cuteness.

  [SYSTEM ALERT: HOST IS REFLECTING ON HIS CURRENT STATE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW WHY THIS HAPPENED?]

  "Fine," Ahmed sighed, resigned to yet another lecture from the System. "Enlighten me."

  [SYSTEM RESPONSE: BECAUSE YOUR POINTS WERE TOO HIGH, AND THE UNIVERSE DEMANDS BALANCE. ALSO, BECAUSE IT'S HILARIOUS.]

  Ahmed groaned, rolling onto his side. "Of course it is. Everything involving me is hilarious to you."

  [SYSTEM ALERT: CORRECT. YOUR LIFE IS MY PERSONAL COMEDY SHOW.]

  Ahmed sat up abruptly, his anger reigniting. "Then maybe I should write my own script. Maybe I should turn the tables on you."

  The System paused for a beat, then responded with unsettling cheerfulness.

  [SYSTEM ALERT: GOOD LUCK WITH THAT, DEAR HOST. BUT IF YOU EVER NEED MORE INSPIRATION, JUST KEEP FAILING. FAILURE GENERATES GREAT CONTENT.]

  Ahmed clenched his fists, vowing silently to prove the System wrong. Someday, somehow, he'd find a way to reclaim his identity—and his sanity.

  Until then, all he could do was endure.

  VI. New Adventures Await

  That night, as Ahmed drifted off to sleep, he dreamed of simpler times—playing solitaire in the maqha, mocking strangers, and generally avoiding responsibility. Those days felt impossibly distant now, replaced by a chaotic existence defined by kidnappings, missions, and relentless trolling.

  Yet amidst the madness, Ahmed discovered something unexpected: a strange sense of belonging. Despite everything, Clayra truly cared for him—even if her methods were unconventional. Liza, while terrifying, protected him fiercely. And Cloudia, though annoying, hinted at deeper layers beneath her mercantile facade.

  Perhaps, Ahmed thought, this wasn't entirely bad. Sure, he hated being treated like a living mascot. Sure, the System drove him insane. But maybe, just maybe, there was a reason he kept surviving these trials.

  Or maybe he was doomed to suffer forever.

  Only time would tell.

  Epilogue: The Cycle of Madness Continues

  Ahmed woke the next morning to find Clayra waiting outside his door, holding a tray of breakfast. Her smile was brighter than usual, her enthusiasm bordering on manic.

  "Good morning, my sweet prince!" she chirped, pushing her way into the room without invitation. "Today, we're going shopping for new clothes. Your old ones simply won't do anymore—not with your upgraded cuteness level."

  Ahmed groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "Momma, please. Can't we skip this part?"

  Clayra laughed, setting the tray down beside him. "Never. Besides, think of it as practice for your future career as a noble child."

  "Future career?!" Ahmed shrieked, sitting upright. "Since when did I agree to any of this?!"

  [SYSTEM ALERT: TECHNICALLY NEVER. BUT WHO CARES ABOUT DETAILS WHEN THERE'S COMEDY INVOLVED?]

  Ahmed threw the nearest pillow at the wall, venting his frustration. "One day, System, one day... you'll regret this."

  The System didn't respond—but Ahmed could almost hear its laughter echoing in the background.

  As Clayra dragged him off to prepare for their shopping trip, Ahmed resolved to continue fighting. Whether it was through clever manipulation, stubborn resistance, or sheer determination, he refused to let the System win completely.

  Because deep down, Ahmed knew one thing for certain: this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

  And thus, Ahmed's journey into peak cuteness—and ultimate chaos—continued.

  End of Chapter 11

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