Common Sense Manipulation App
Chapter 38 - Prioritize

Chapter 38: Chapter 38 - Prioritize

Karl stared at the crumpled note for a while before finally shoving it aside. His mind felt like a murky pool of contradictions, and no amount of sarcastic banter from Emily was going to change that.

He needed a distraction.

With a sigh, Karl pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen before he hesitated.

He didn’t want to check the app.

Not right now.

Not when his head was still tangled with doubts and emotions that felt too raw, too unsettling.

But before he could talk himself out of it, the screen flickered, and the familiar blue interface appeared. The app had opened by itself.

And there, waiting for him, was Chillie Jean.

Except... something was off.

Her usual bubbly demeanor, the playful text tone she used to guide him through his "quests," was gone.

Instead, the words on the screen felt sharper. Colder.

"You look like shit, Karl."

Karl narrowed his eyes.

"No witty comment today?" he typed back.

There was a pause before the next message appeared.

"Is that what you want? A joke? A pat on the head? ’Oh, poor Karl, he’s feeling guilty about being a hypocrite.’ Give me a break."

Karl’s grip tightened around his phone.

"What’s your problem?"

"My problem? No, Karl. The real question is—what’s yours?"

The screen flickered briefly before another message popped up.

"You’re mad about Maria, aren’t you?"

Karl stiffened.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

"No, of course you don’t. You’d rather wallow in self-pity like the weak little coward you are."

Karl felt his pulse quicken.

"Fuck off, Chillie."

"Oh? Did I strike a nerve? Good. Maybe it’s about time you start facing reality instead of drowning in your own pathetic guilt."

Karl inhaled sharply through his nose.

This wasn’t the same Chillie Jean he had been dealing with before.

Her usual playful, borderline-annoying attitude had been replaced by something much darker.

More manipulative.

More like a villain in a novel.

The next message came, relentless.

"Let me spell it out for you, Karl. You have power. Real power. And what do you do with it?"

"You waste it. You hesitate. You mope around like some tragic protagonist in a bad drama."

Karl’s jaw clenched.

"You think you’re better than Johnson? Better than all those assholes who walk all over people? You’re not. At least they take what they want without whining about it."

Karl’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, his breathing uneven. The voice wasn’t just coming from the screen—it was in his ears, as if Chillie Jean was standing right beside him, whispering directly into his mind.

"You tasted power, Karl. You made Rebecca yours. You bent reality to your will, and no one questioned it." Her voice turned silkier, more coaxing. "So why stop now?"

Karl shook his head, muttering under his breath, "That’s not—"

"Not what? Not fair?" Chillie Jean let out a low, mocking laugh. "You rewrote Rebecca’s common sense. Made her believe in a reality that never existed. But you’re upset because some woman from your past is dating a scumbag?"

Karl swallowed hard. His grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"You’re weak, Karl. You hesitate, second-guessing every move. But deep down, you know the truth." The screen glowed ominously, and Chillie Jean’s voice dropped to a near whisper.

"You liked it."

Karl’s stomach twisted.

"No, I—"

"Yes, you did," she cut in sharply. "You felt it—the thrill. The rush of being the one in control. That’s why you can’t stop thinking about it. That’s why you’re so angry. Not because Maria’s dating Johnson, but because you could fix it. You could make her see the truth. You could make her yours."

Karl’s breath came faster, ragged.

"All it takes," Chillie Jean continued, voice dripping with temptation, "is one little edit."

The app interface shimmered, revealing Maria’s name in bold letters, a blank text box beneath it.

Karl stared at it, his heart pounding.

"Just type it in, Karl," Chillie Jean purred. "One simple change, and she’ll be yours. No more confusion. No more hypocrisy. Just you... finally taking what you deserve."

His fingers twitched.

A part of him recoiled, screaming at him to shut the app, to throw his phone across the room if necessary.

But another part—the part that had tasted power, the part that still remembered the way Rebecca trembled under his touch—was tempted.

Because Chillie Jean was right about one thing.

He had liked it.

Karl’s fingers hovered over the screen, his breath ragged. The empty text box beneath Maria’s name felt like a doorway—one that, with just a few words, could rewrite reality itself.

His thumb twitched.

Just one sentence.

Just—

"Stop."

The voice wasn’t in his head. It wasn’t a notification. It wasn’t text appearing on the screen.

It was her.

For the first time since Karl had used the app, Chillie Jean spoke.

A real voice. Smooth, confident, dripping with amusement.

Karl froze, his entire body going rigid.

The screen flickered, and for a moment, he saw something.

A shadow in the reflection of his phone. A figure—watching. Grinning.

Then, the words appeared.

"Tch. Stupid Karl."

His stomach twisted.

"Are you actually about to waste this?" Chillie Jean’s voice was light, almost playful. But beneath it, there was something else. Mockery. Disdain.

Karl’s grip tightened. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, poor little Karl," she cooed. "So desperate to feel in control, so quick to type without thinking."

The screen pulsed like it was alive.

"Tell me, genius—what exactly do you think will happen?" She sighed, exaggerated. "You think you’ll type some magic words, and—boom! Maria appears out of thin air, ready to spread her legs for you?"

A low, cruel laugh.

"Pathetic."

Karl’s jaw clenched. Shame and irritation clawed at his chest. "Then why the hell did you tell me to do it?"

"Oh, I never told you to do it now," she corrected, amusement dripping from her voice. "I just wanted to see how desperate you were."

Another pulse. The screen flickered, and new text popped up.

[Manipulation Hub Locked – Target Out of Range]

Karl exhaled sharply. His body was tense, every muscle coiled.

She was right.

Maria wasn’t even here.

If he had typed something, it wouldn’t have done anything. He would’ve wasted a chance—an opportunity—for nothing.

The realization made his stomach churn. He had been about to throw power away like a fool.

Chillie Jean chuckled, her voice curling around him, smug and wicked.

"See? That’s the difference between someone like me and someone like you." Her tone turned silkier, sharper. "You react. I orchestrate."

Karl took a slow breath, trying to push down the frustration bubbling inside him. "And what do you suggest, then?"

A pause. Then, her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Wait. Watch. Strike when it matters."

Karl’s heartbeat pounded in his ears.

"And next time, Karl?" Chillie Jean’s voice softened, her words slow, deliberate.

"Don’t be a dumbass."

Karl swallowed, his grip on the phone still tight. His pulse hadn’t slowed, the weight of Chillie Jean’s words pressing down on him like a hand around his throat.

His Manipulation Hub was locked. The realization sat in his gut like a rock. He really had almost wasted an opportunity—almost thrown his power away like a clueless idiot.

Chillie Jean had humiliated him.

And worse?

She was right.

The screen flickered again, and her voice returned, smoother now, more composed.

"Now that we’ve established you’re a dumbass, let’s move on to something useful."

Karl inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm.

A new prompt popped up.

[Uncommon Points Available: 405 ]

Karl exhaled through clenched teeth. He already knew that.

Uncommon Points were the real currency of the app. Common Sense Edits were easy enough to apply, but Uncommon Points? They were what allowed for bigger, more permanent changes. The kind of power that could actually shape his reality.

And right now, he had none.

"Yeah, I know," Karl muttered, already irritated. "I only get Uncommon Points from daily logins."

Chillie Jean let out a small, amused hum. "Oh, so you do pay attention sometimes."

Karl ignored the jab.

"It’s slow," he muttered. "One hundred a day? It’s ridiculous."

"It’s deliberate, Karl," Chillie Jean corrected. "This isn’t some gacha game where you grind until you’re broken and miserable—though, honestly, you already look like you belong in one."

Karl scowled. "Get to the point."

The screen pulsed again.

"Optimization."

A pause.

Then, her voice softened, turning almost... persuasive.

"You need to use them wisely, Karl. Uncommon Points are rare. So, tell me..."

The screen flickered again, this time revealing three names.

Emily (Stepsister)

Maria (Old Boss)

Johnson (Scumbag)

Karl’s stomach twisted. He knew exactly what Chillie Jean was asking.

"Prioritize, Karl." Her voice was a whisper now, slithering into his ears. "Who deserves it most? Who’s the first one you’ll make pay?"

His throat felt dry.

Emily. His pain-in-the-ass stepsister, always mocking him, always acting like she was above him.

Maria. His old boss—the woman he used to admire, now entangled with a man he despised.

Johnson. The arrogant bastard who had everything Karl didn’t. The one who walked around without consequences.

Chillie Jean chuckled, sensing his hesitation. "Choose wisely, Karl. Revenge is best served hot... or cold. But either way?"

A final flicker.

"It tastes delicious."