Supreme Degenerate Lust System-Chapter 11: Tikki Town!

So their journey began — a merry band of capable warriors and one human-shaped migraine.

They weaved through the grass-filled forest like a squad of ninjas dodging taxes, expertly avoiding prowling beasts, evil trees that flailed like drunk uncles at a wedding, and vines that were far too enthusiastic about grabbing ankles.

It wasn't that they couldn't handle these low-level monsters — hell, with their synchronized skills, they could probably choreograph a battle scene fit for Broadway.

But the real problem? The group's designated idiot.

Leaving Alex unsupervised for even a minute was like handing a toddler a box of fireworks and hoping for the best.

One wrong move from him and they'd have a parade of angry beasts faster than you can say "Oh crap!"

Besides, none of them wanted to waste time fighting their way through the forest.

Sleeping outside without a roof over their heads was bad enough — spending a night in a monster-infested forest?

Nope.

That was just asking to become a side dish in some oversized wolf's dinner plan.

Even high-ranking warriors avoided staying out after dark, and for good reason — nightfall turned this place into a horror movie with a budget for extra gore.

Meanwhile...

"Tu~ Tu~ Tu~"

Alex happily hummed away like he was strolling through a sunflower field on a lazy Sunday.

He chomped on a blade of grass like some zen cowboy who'd finally found inner peace — completely oblivious to the tension thick enough to cut with a butter knife.

Every distant growl had the rest of the group gripping their weapons like they were in a Western standoff.

Meanwhile, Alex was just vibing — blissfully unaware he was one loud sneeze away from starting The Great Beast Riot of 2025.

Alex had no idea what kind of emotional rollercoaster Kriss was riding on.

The poor guy had his own personal weather forecast — the wind whispering sweet nothings (and terrifying growls) straight into his ears.

If Kriss hadn't been blessed with his wind magic, he'd be waddling down this path with his pants wetter than a sponge in a rainstorm.

Thankfully, he could chat with the wind like some budget Disney princess, saving himself from an embarrassing mudslide in his trousers.

Meanwhile, Charlotte stuck to Alric like Velcro, silently shadowing him with laser-focused vigilance.

She didn't say a word, but her eyes were sharper than a loan shark's memory — nothing was getting past her.

Ellie was in the same hyper-alert state, scowling at every rustling leaf like it owed her money.

And then... there was Celeste. Sweet, patient, saintly Celeste, who somehow ended up babysitting Alex.

Alex, of course, was firing off questions like an over-caffeinated toddler on a sugar binge.

"Why's the sky blue?"

"Do evil trees have evil tree babies?"

"If I punched a bear, would it respect me or just eat me faster?"

Through it all, Celeste just smiled and answered like she was hosting an educational kids' show. Honestly, they should canonize her.

Forget sainthood — Celeste deserved her own constellation for putting up with him.

Alex was having the time of his life.

The dude looked like a toddler who just discovered glitter.

His jaw hung open wide enough to catch flies, and his eyes were practically sparkling as he took in the scenery.

Trees swayed gently in the breeze, flowers danced in the wind, and the whole forest seemed to hum with life.

Compared to his old world — a concrete jungle that looked like a corporate dystopia with zero trees, zero soul, and enough grey to make a thunderstorm jealous — this place was heaven on earth.

It was like Mother Nature had flexed her green muscles and yelled, "Boom! Taste this, industrial hellscape!"

Meanwhile, the rest of the group couldn't care less. They walked on like jaded locals ignoring tourists who were way too excited about pigeons.

Not one of them spared a glance at Alex, who was currently kneeling in the grass, staring at a daisy like he'd just discovered the meaning of life.

'So beautiful... Oh man, the things I could do with these flowers...'

[...]

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'I meant I could give it to someone, stupid system!'

The system remained quiet, but Alex swore it was silently judging him.

By the time the sun started dipping behind the trees, they stumbled upon a paved road with a sign that read:

"Tikki Town — Where Dreams Are Paved and Ale Flows Like Water!"

Alex's face lit up like a jackpot machine in Vegas.

His mouth hung open, and his eyes sparkled as if he'd just been shown a dragon riding a unicorn across a rainbow.

"Holy crap," he whispered, awe-struck. "This world's got paved roads?"

He stared at the road like he'd just seen fire for the first time. Yep, Alex was definitely the type of guy who'd clap when a plane landed.

After they passed the signpost, the scenery shifted from "enchanted forest" to "rustic labor camp real quick."

Farmers in simple tunics worked the fields with the determination of people who knew that skipping a day's work meant skipping a meal.

Even the kids looked like they could plow a field and still have enough energy to fight a bear afterward.

'Damn... this town must be poor...'

Alex thought, eyeing the patchwork clothes and dirt-stained faces.

It felt like he'd stumbled into the medieval version of a budget fantasy RPG — no shiny armor or magic potions, just hard-working folks grinding XP through manual labor.

As they moved further in, the landscape started to level up.

The huts gave way to sturdier wooden houses, and eventually, those turned into more respectable-looking homes — not mansions, mind you, but the kind that said, "Yeah, I have a roof that doesn't leak — what of it?"

The streets grew livelier. Vendors barked about their wares, carts creaked by with wheels that sounded one pothole away from retirement, and guards stood around in vests that looked like they'd been passed down through three generations of disappointed warriors.

Children darted through the streets like caffeinated squirrels, and the women... well, Alex couldn't help but notice that despite their simple tunics, some of them were looking mighty fine. Like, "I'd fake a twisted ankle just to get their attention" fine.

Soon enough, they hit the heart of the town — paved roads, packed houses, and townsfolk hustling and bustling like they were late for something important but couldn't remember what.

Birds chirped overhead, and old men lounged under a massive tree, spinning yarns that probably started with, "Back in my day..."

Alex couldn't help but smile. This place had charm — the kind of charm that whispered, "Yeah, you're gonna get drunk at a tavern and wake up in someone's barn... but it'll be a great story."

.

.

.

Finally, they have reached a town and this is where all the fun begins!