I HAVE A CARTOON VIRUS THAT ALTERED MY DESTINY

—"On the ground again... It's always the same thing," Paul muttered to himself, getting up slowly as he wiped the dust off his uniform and carefully touched the wounds covering his body and face. With his head down, he set off on his way home. When he finally arrived, fear almost overtook him, but he simply let out a long sigh. Standing there was Roy, one of the guys who had left him in that state. Paul couldn't get used to the negativity emanating from him. It wasn't hate or resentment he felt; his mind was simply pleading: "Get me out of here." "Hey, i***t, you just got back? What were you doing? Did you trip on the way?" Roy sneered, bursting into laughter. "Useless, you're not even good for that. Hahaha." "What is going on here?" a female voice intervened. "Hey, Roy, watch your tongue. Paul, are you okay? You fell, didn't you?" Paul could only nod in silence. "Hey, Roy, you should be more polite and kind to Paul. He's your brother." "Not this again, Mom!" Roy protested in annoyance. "That loser isn't my brother. He's a starving stray picked up out of pity. What does he contribute? Even Rex, our dog, is more valuable than him." "Roy, what is wrong with you? That's no way to treat people. Apologize." "I won't. I just told the truth. Are you going to make me apologize for telling the truth, Mother?" "It doesn't matter if it's true or not, apologize. There are words that should be said and words that shouldn't." "So you think so too, right, Mother? Well, since we both think the same... Paulo, I apologize for telling you the truth, you failure. Happy now, Mother? I'm going upstairs, this pisses me off." Roy walked off with firm steps. The woman turned to the boy with a lukewarm expression. "Paulo, I'm sorry. He's a good boy, just a bit scatterbrained. His father and I spoiled him a lot when he was little, but deep down he cares about you, just like I do. So do your part too and get along with him; that way he'll consider you his friend... Mm, go change your clothes, you're dirty. Next time watch where you're walking, don't go falling again. It seems to have become a habit of yours; learn to be more attentive, alright? Well, I'll go prepare dinner. Come down as soon as I call you." Paulo nodded. As he looked up, he instinctively analyzed his surroundings, briefly coming to his senses. That boy was Roy Liu, the spoiled son of a family with excellent financial standing. And the woman he watched walking away was Mrs. Jimin Liu. She had silvery hair reaching down to her narrow waist, an hourglass figure, and a face that barely seemed to touch thirty, even though she was pushing forty. She was an influential woman thanks to her wealthy family; although her husband worked as an executive at the company Deux, she held a significant portion of the shares. And then there was him: Paulo. An orphan adopted by the Lius five years ago. If they adopted him, he was certain it was purely for clout. They were active partners in relief centers and orphanages. When the adoption went through, the press covered the news with enthusiasm: the great Liu family, despite their status, had the generosity to take in a destitute child to give him all the love and support possible. They said that boy would be the envy of everyone for such an opportunity. And it was true. Paulo had felt thrilled, wearing a huge smile just like any other orphan child. The day they chose him, he thought it was the happiest day of his life. However, shortly after, he would realize it was nothing more than an absurd joke. That great day ended up becoming the start of the worst chapter of his existence. Paulo slowly climbed the stairs to his room, clenching his teeth from the pain still coursing through his body. "This life is s**t, and it will keep being s**t," he thought bitterly. Roy was a bully obsessed with him simply because he had been adopted. At first, Paulo tried to approach him in good faith and did everything possible to get along, but Roy only responded with humiliation, insults, and beatings. He was an unhinged guy: one day he could be in a good mood and talk to him friendly, and the next second he would throw a punch for no reason. He was tall and strong, well-fed from a young age thanks to his family's wealth; on the other hand, Paulo was shorter and thinner. Paulo didn't fight to win. He felt that if he fought back hard, Roy would take it personally and increase the suffering. After all, both Roy's parents and the school administrators always backed him up. Paulo knew Roy had committed serious offenses, but the teachers and his parents made sure to clean up his image. It was impossible to stand up to him. Because of that, Paulo only covered up against the blows; he didn't want to fuel the conflict further. He knew there had to be other ways to stop the suffering, but so far he hadn't found any. And Roy wasn't the only problem. There were also Andrew, Junior, and Jack. Those three were just as wretched. Their parents also held executive positions in art, culinary, and film businesses, and all the families formed a closed circle of wealthy friends where they covered for each other. Upon reaching the top floor, Paulo stood looking out the window. The residence was massive and elegant, but his room was extremely basic: the former upper-floor study that the family used as a storage room. Although spacious, it was packed with boxes and accumulated junk. He only had a small dresser, a table, his bed, and a box to store his clothes. The only thing he liked about that corner was the window facing the street, which offered a nice view. He collapsed onto the bed. Thinking about those guys drained him. They all had the same spoiled temperament as Roy: they waited for him at the exit to beat him and humiliate him. Nobody stood up for him. "That Roy..." Paulo mused. "As stupid as he is, I have to admit he doesn't hide anything. Unlike his mother." Mrs. Jimin always maintained an air of fake concern, playing ignorant about what was happening and pretending she loved both her sons equally. An absolute lie. She was a hypocritical woman who knew perfectly well the indignities her son subjected him to and did nothing to stop it. Without warning, an intense anxiety attack washed over Paulo. His breathing accelerated, and his chest began to tighten. Desperate, he reached under the box and pulled out two magazines. He headed to the window to try to calm down and opened the first one: a cartoon comic book. Reading that comic was one of his two ways of coping with panic attacks and depression. He felt that the silly humor and ridiculous situations lit up his gray world for a second. Reading those panels while sitting by the window was the best part of his routine. After smiling a bit at the story, he set the comic aside and picked up the second magazine: an erotic publication. He felt an immediate physical response. He pulled down his pants and began to masturbate. That was his other escape route to bring some color to his life: cartoons and s*x were the only two things keeping him going. As he stimulated himself with the pages of the magazine, the image of Mrs. Liu came to his mind: that sculpted, mature silhouette. It wasn't the first time he used her in his fantasies to reach climax. When he finished, he cleaned off the fluids, took off the rest of his worn uniform, and stepped into the bathroom to shower. The cold water struck the wounds on his body, but he barely paid attention. In his mind, he was still replaying the comic he had just read. There was a side character that fascinated him: he didn't have a lead role or dramatic weight. He was a mascot of sorts named Plop, a cartoonish bubble that barely had eyes and a mouth to express emotions. He always accompanied the main characters and, in moments of peak tension, made silly expressions: blushing, sticking out his tongue, or making sweet eyes.