Akira reeled from the devastating slap, caught completely off guard.
There were only a handful of incidents in his life where he could recall being struck, all of which were at the hands of disgruntled employees, so this was really quite momentous for him.
'Wow! I never thought modern video games would possess such--'
(What might it be called?)
'Advanced 'Face-Slapping technology!'
But as his thoughts cleared, the impromptu assault will have served a simultaneous effect of awakening him to several new details about his situation:
Firstly, his entire perspective had changed. He was no longer viewing the proceedings from above, as an uninvolved spectator: having become another of the poor souls trapped inside of the cage, reluctantly being taken along for a ride through the dark basement of carnal horrors.
It all felt too close--too real--as he could suddenly sense his befouled new surroundings through a far wider spectrum than just mere sight and sound, exactly as if he was really there!
It was pure sensory overload, as he retched at the fecal foul odors emanating throughout. Flinched at every panicked scream and pleading wail of the squirrel-girls being tortured, jumping out at him from the shadows in every direction--serving as constant, grim reminders of what gruesome fate awaited him.
Not to mention, Akira's face...still stung like a bitch from being slapped.
The attack had come from a fellow prisoner in the cage; the odd one out of the bunch he'd seen previously, who was named "Lazuli": standing boldly with hands on hips in front of him, not joining the others in their pathetic chorus of cries for help. A girl with a stern frown and glaring blue eyes, disguised in a drab brown cloak.
She didn't appear to be in a mood to talk.
"Don't stare at me, you dumb pervert!" She yelled into his face.
Akira blinked, as his vision blinked too.
"Huh?" Something's weird...
Next, he moved his hand, and so did his hand move. Except, this was no longer the same pair of hands he knew: the fingers stretched far longer and thinner, lightly coated up to the elbow in a patch of soft brown fur.
"W-W-What's going on?" he blurted in his confusion, covering his mouth in embarrassment at the unfamiliar voice he heard come out.
'Just now...'
'That was definitely not my normal voice, either!'
It sounded...much too light.
Far more...cute.
Girly.
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a fluffy squirrel tail as it abruptly stiffened, the countless hairs bristling as it stood perfectly upright.
Curious, he touched it. Brushed it gently.
As he did, he felt a slight pressure on his spine.
'No…! Don't tell me--'
He traced his hand along the length of the tail, toward the base, gasping when he reached the soft, plushy endpoint and realized:
'This is...my tail? Then it means--'
Akira glanced down at himself, at the body he now possessed, to discover that he was dressed in the same skimpy cloth rags as the Squell Cattle: leaving much of the bare, smooth, caramel-shaded skin exposed--not the least of which included the cleavage of his squirrel-girl avatar's impressive rack!
'I've...actually become her!'
Akira was inside the body of SexLover69!
But his willpower was weak; it wasn't enough for him to just look--not when he had complete free rein of the candy store!
As in an instant: all logic and reason, as well as the confusion and very real fears he harbored about his current predicament, were swept aside and replaced by a crude, primitive lust, fueled by a single burning question to which Akira was determined to find an answer.
This question being, "what does a woman's breast feel like?"
Akira Maximilian began his efforts to solve this mystery by carefully slipping one hand underneath the avatar's cloth bra, to cup one bare breast in his palm.
His first impression...was that it felt heavy.
'I guess they're sometimes called "rocks" for a reason!'
However, it was every bit as squishy and warm as he'd anticipated; kind of similar to a balloon bloated with hot water. And when he squeezed it, he reveled at the feeling of the tender meat mounding around his strained grasp.
It was everything he'd dreamed his first boob touch would be! (Bizarre context aside.)
'Well, in a way this is technically like having a girlfriend, minus all the hassle,' he thought to himself, rather optimistically, as he was proceeding to fondle a breast in each hand with a close-eyed, contented smile.
Lazuli, meanwhile, had been an unfortunate front row observer to all this depravity.
She didn't seem nearly as enthused.
"Um...what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
''Acclimating to my new body,' is what Akira wanted to respond with, but on second thought determined that this Lazuli chick wasn't the type to appreciate good sarcasm. Besides, he really didn't want to get slapped again.
Lazuli crossed her arms, shooting him an incriminating glare. "Perhaps you belong in a place like this."
Akira winced. "Excuse me?"
Was she seriously implying that he deserved to be raped by cows?
Not cool!
Lazuli explained: "It's simple: when someone first arrives in Nirvana, the Deep Karma determines their spawn location based on how virtuous they've been in life."
Akira just stared at her. She might as well have been speaking gibberish.
She gave a frustrated groan.
"Fine!" she yelled. "I'll dumb it down for you…"
"Basically, how it goes is that all the most righteous people," she said, while pointing a thumb against her own chest with a proud look, "are rewarded with a safe starting zone..."
"Whereas all the wrongdoers, such as--"
She slowly pointed at Akira.
"Are rightfully punished, with a dangerous starting zone--one that's almost guaranteed to kill them, if they aren't lucky!"
Akira blinked. "Wait, so...I'm being punished?"
But in that case, punished by whom? And for what purpose? Immediately, the sassy green text from earlier came to mind, but what did it all mean?
What was this world, anyway?!
"Nirvana," was what Lazuli had called it…
'Yeah, freaking right! Some "Nirvana" this hellhole is turning out to be!'
Just then, the cage in which Akira, Lazuli and all the Squell Cattle were trapped in--that had been rumbling along, deeper and deeper into the dungeon all this time--finally grinded to a halt. It stopped in front of a straw-laden pen like the kind used for keeping animals, with long food and water troughs...except the "animals" were Squell: positioned down on all-fours and hitched to wooden posts like livestock, with all the color long since drained from their eyes. Squell "Cattle" indeed.
Akira was pulled away from looking at them by a familiar sound that automatically took on a whole new, dreadful meaning: a butcher knife, carving through a piece of meat.
He looked, and there was a Nandi wearing a chef's hat and a bloody apron, various entrails and limbs dangling from the ceiling around his head, standing at a bench busy cleaving through a thick white haunch of what was assuredly not regular beef; as only mere feet away, another Nandi in a chef's hat and apron was humming along happily while sprinkling salt into a simmering cauldron—with several noticeably furry limbs poking out of it!
Akira instantly felt sick to his stomach, just as a heightened sense of urgency rose within him as well.
'Lazuli...she's hiding something.'
'I hope so, at least--or else it's probably my thick juicy ass that's next on the menu!'
So, with no other conceivable options, he waited until the pair of Hungry Nandi that had been hauling the cage had fully hobbled off beyond earshot--turning to her.
"What's the plan?" Akira said. "You're different from the others"--he cast a sideways glance at the Squell Cattle, in the midst of a group cry session--"and I hope it means you can get our asses out of her."
To which Lazuli gave a smug grin--a good sign that Akira's hunch was right, if any.
"Lucky for you," she answered, sighing. "Before today, I'd been trying to get myself captured for weeks, after receiving so many reports of new Squell players mysteriously disappearing."
"Squell…" Akira mused nervously. "I'm a Squell too...aren't I?"
She nodded. "Yes. But don't worry, I'll get us--"
Just then, one of the Nandi pinned his snout against the bars of the cage, snapping his jaws viciously right in her face.
"Woman!" It snarled in a harsh voice, spraying spittle all over Lazuli's wincing face as it broke out into a cacophony of hoggish snorts, and squeals. "I smell a new shipment of tender, juicy Squell meat!"
Lazuli scoffed. "That's no way to approach a lady," she said proudly, just as her eyes narrowed with intimate fury. "Fool! I will show you the error of your ways!"
Akira watched as waves of floating 1s and 0s appeared in a swirling mist around Lazuli, gradually becoming more and more densely held together, until it formed a sort of ethereal cocoon all around her, as the Nandi that had set her off was clapping with snorting laughter--viewing it as some kind of light show.
"Squell show pretty lights!" The bull said dumbly, pointing its finger dumbly at what was transpiring, with an altogether dumb air about it—perfectly oblivious to what was actually going on. "Hehe, I can't wait to see pretty Squell nak—"
FWSHIIIIIIIIIIIING!
If one blinked, they would have missed it.
Yet those with opened eyes would have seen a brief, crescent flash of light, and nothing more.
Something had emerged from within the cocoon encasing Lazuli: faster than the eye could follow, and sharp enough to cleanly slice through the thick iron bars in between the bull and Lazuli; simultaneous to a dark ribbon of blood forming, and slowly expanding as more and more of it gently poured forth, across the bull's frozen look of fear.
"I will not tolerate any further disrespect from the likes of you!" Lazuli could be heard saying, though her image remained distorted by a lingering cloud of the peculiar "digital mist."
With these words, the blood abruptly came gushing out of the newly formed cut across the beastman's face, all at once--like a pressurized water pipe that had just busted--painting the shocked expressions of Akira and the viewing Squell Cattle alike in a deep, crimson red.
It was then that Lazuli dramatically emerged from the mist, her transformation completed, heralded by the raining blood of the slain bull.
The slave rags she had worn previously were replaced with a gleaming gold chest plate and rerebrace, over a white leopard, with a flowing light blue cape. Her long blonde hair was loosened: falling to her shoulders in wavy strands, with an ivory white circlet set with a glowing sapphire adorning her forehead, imparting a regal vibe.
And there, held within her iron grip, was a long sword—its gleaming white edge dripping with coarse blood.
Akira gawked at the sight, as even though the sapphire on her headpiece would be worth chump change by his standards, an ass as plump and well-rounded as hers--in that wonderfully tight leotard--was simply priceless!
The remnants of the bull she'd sliced fell apart in perfect clean halves, landing on the ground with a pair of sickening fleshy smacks.
Lazuli calmly stepped out of the cage, lifting her legs to step over the corpse and pointing her sword forward, its radiantly glowing edge keeping the other bulls at bay.
"Villainous scum!" she declared, showing no ounce of trepidation in her resolve. "Your time of judgment has arrived!