"Wait! Let me tell you something! Let me tell you something!"

"Shut the fuck up, you little perv! There's no bullshit excuse that'll make me believe you weren't ogling my wife's tits!"

"Peasant scum! I gave you a job, a roof over your head, and most importantly, the honor of being in my glorious presence. And you repay me by eye-fucking my mother, you cock-brained idiot?!"

"I should've ripped your eyes out the second you got caught! Guard! Get your sorry ass over here!"

Before the Patriarch could even finish barking his command, the guard who'd caught Artis was already kneeling before him.

But in the blink of an eye, the top half of his skull slid clean off like a fucking lid on a cheap jar, leaving his body to flop backwards in a gory splash of blood, as if his brains were just another thing that didn't know how to stay put.

Everyone else in the room, aside from the furious lord and his equally pissed-off son, looked like they'd just walked in on their parents mid-fuck.

Horror painted their faces, and the guy kneeling just a few feet from the slumped, headless guard knew damn well he was next on the chopping block.

Not a soul dared to move—hell, not even an ant dared to scurry across the floor. They all knew what this psychopath, one of the top ten bad asses in the kingdom, could do when he was in a mood.

And Artis, oh, poor Artis, stood there with a dumbass look of shock plastered on his face, fully aware that he'd just signed up for the world's worst mistake.

"Don't worry, you little shit," sneered the young lord, flashing a grin that reeked of arrogance. "I'll be taking good care of your dear mom and that tight little sister of yours. Real good care, if you know what I mean."

The young master, who Artis had once believed was his savior—or at least a buddy in their shared hatred of peasants—sauntered over like he had all the time in the world.

"Pray that you're blind as a bat in your next life, you worthless cockroach."

With that, the young lord swung his sword in a brutal, vertical slice.

The blade glimmered as it arced through the air, briefly casting an eerie glow in the otherwise dull room, before cleaving Artis in half—head to cock. The two halves of his body hit the floor with a sickening thud, spraying blood like some messed-up art installation, as a crimson lake began pooling beneath his remains.

[To be continued...]

...

"God fucking damn it! Did the author-san really just kill off the only guy with half a brain and some actual finesse in the art of perversion?"

Axel yelled, tossing his smartphone behind him like it was a piece of trash. He rolled over onto his stomach, seething with rage. 

The webnovel he was reading—which, let's be real, was total trash—had just offed the one minor villain with a bit of cunning and a truly noble ambition: getting into as many panties as humanly possible.

Sure, everyone else in the story was just flinging powers around like crazed lunatics, but this guy? He had strategy. He had charisma. He had a lust-driven mission!

But oh, no, that was clearly too much to ask in this ridiculous world. I mean, it was a Chinese cultivation setup, yet everyone had Western names and could shoot magic out of their asses. Yeah, it was a weird mess, but Axel had made peace with that. Until now.

"Stupid bastard! Doesn't he know his readers loved this character? If he kills Artis, he's going to get backlash like a bitch slap to the face! God, what an idiot."

Axel huffed, feeling that all-too-familiar rage of a reader who's just been denied his favorite trashy pleasure.

In the world of this web novel, there was only one rule: Power.

Whoever had it, ruled everything. Like, really ruled it. Take some of the kingdoms, for example. Here, if a dude wanted something, all he had to do was beat someone else in a duel, and bam—he'd win everything the other guy owned.

We're talking villas, gold, shops, and yeah, even the poor guy's wives and daughters.

Yep, you read that right. Loser's got a hot daughter? Well, too bad—she's now in the winner's collection. Winner could do whatever he pleased: take 'em as his personal harem, sell them off for a quick gold coin, or just keep 'em around as a status symbol.

The whole setup was as brutal as it was ridiculous, and honestly, that's probably why this smut-fest of a novel was still trending even a year after release. Most trashy smut barely survives a few months, but this? It was like the cockroach of smutty web novels, impossible to kill.

But honestly, the real secret sauce wasn't just the smut; it was the characters.

Especially Artis, a sidekick villain with the sleazy charm of a snake oil salesman. The guy wasn't just some muscle-bound brute—he had strategy. And for someone whose primary goal was to get into as many panties as possible, he had a surprisingly dedicated fanbase.

"You know what? I'm pissed. I'm really, really pissed. Time to hit this clown with a one-star review."

Axel snatched his phone back up and immediately started hammering out the nastiest review he could think of—stuff that'd make any mother gasp if she accidentally read it over her kid's shoulder.

"...and that's why this story is absolute trash. Boom. Sent."

He hit send with a smirk, hoping his scathing critique might knock some sense into that hack of an author.

"Let's see if he can pull his head out of his ass before it's too late."

Ding~

He barely had time to savor the moment when a notification popped up. It was a reply—from the author.

"Huh? Did he actually respond?"

Axel raised an eyebrow and quickly opened the message, only to feel his blood pressure spike.

[C0cktimusPrime,

Thank you for your kind review. When your little brother awakens, you shall explode.]

"Huh?"

"..."

"..."

"What the fuck!"

"I don't even have a little brother! What the hell are you smoking, author? Jesus."

Axel muttered, shaking his head.

"God dammit."

He didn't have the patience to respond, so he just tossed his phone behind him again. What was this guy's problem? Some mysterious internet weirdo, high on his own smutty delusions, apparently. But just as Axel started to let it go, his phone buzzed again.

"Huh? Another chapter already? Damn, this guy's fast. Maybe he is regretting that decision."

Axel mumbled, picking up his phone yet again. This time, he didn't hurl it—he settled down, getting comfortable as he opened the new chapter, curious to see if there'd been some kind of magical reversal.

"Artis's mother, Juliana, looked at the mirror and sighed heavily. The towel wrapped around her body was barely clinging to the places that mattered, but even so, she felt no urge to admire herself anymore. She gazed at the reflection of the hourglass figure she'd worked so hard to maintain, her perfect curves that had once made her husband..."

"God dammit! Another smut chapter!"

Axel laughed, thoroughly entertained. He'd nearly forgotten all about his favorite character's untimely demise. As he read on, his little buddy started to wake up, stretching like it knew a good time was on the horizon.

But then, out of nowhere, that author's creepy warning echoed in his mind.

Gulp.

"Oh, get the hell outta here!" he scoffed, shaking his head. "Like some pervy author who lives in his mom's basement has the power to curse me with voodoo. Dude probably hasn't seen sunlight in years, let alone magic."

With that, Axel's grin returned, and he slid his shorts down, giving his half-awake little guy a pat.

"Alright, my man, it's showtime. Let's see what this fine MILF Juliana's got going on."

He settled back into the story, one hand on his phone, the other ready for action.

"The towel came undone and fell to the floor, revealing every inch of Juliana's flawless body. She stared at herself in the mirror, completely shameless, her ample breasts standing proud, her nipples perky and inviting like the world's best welcome sign. She ran a hand over her smooth, pink—"

"Huh?"

Axel felt a weird twinge in his growing erection, like it was trying to send him a distress signal. He frowned and looked down, but with the dim light in the room, everything looked like a shadowy mystery. He briefly angled his phone's screen toward his crotch like it might hold the answers to life itself, but nope—nothing out of the ordinary.

"Damn, am I just getting paranoid? Whatever, let's just wrap this up. My mom's gonna be home soon, and I really don't want her to catch me with my hand down my pants."

With that, he pushed aside his unease and dove back into the smut novel.

"Juliana's body was a masterpiece, crafted by a divine artisan. Every curve was perfectly sculpted, and her skin was so smooth that even a blind man would cum with just a single touch."

"Damn, this crappy author might actually know how to describe a woman. At least that's a win compared to the dumpster fire that is his world-building and drama."

He shrugged off the growing heat in his pants, focusing instead on the literary gold unfolding before him.

"Suddenly, the door to the bathroom splintered, and there stood a figure. The young master..."

"God dammit! This is after his death, huh? Is this some kind of plot progression? Is this when the real protagonist of the story notices the villainous young master and this clan? Whooo... fuck!! What is that pain?"

Before Axel could even finish processing his thoughts, his member suddenly felt like it was being pinched by a thousand angry needles.

A searing pain erupted from below, so intense that he couldn't help but let out a strangled cry. Grabbing his cock tighter only made things worse; it was now swelling like a balloon at a kid's birthday party. Blue veins throbbed angrily beneath his skin, and his shaft was slowly turning a concerning shade of purple.

"Ahhh! Help! Fuck! Ahhhh!!"

He screamed, panicking as agony surged through him.

What the hell was he supposed to do? He shot upright, abandoning his phone as he clutched his throbbing crotch like it was a life preserver in a stormy sea. The phone tumbled onto the bed, its bright screen now glaring up at him like an accusing ghost.

It read,

"Suddenly, the door to the bathroom was splintered, and there stood a figure. The young master looked at her body from head to toe, licking his lips and said, 'Well, well, what do we have here?'"

Axel, being a massive netori fan, suddenly imagined himself as the young master, the embodiment of every fantasy he'd ever had. In that instant, he felt an erection that wouldn't quit, completely oblivious to the chaos brewing down below.

"Ahhhh! What is this shit? What's happening to me?"

He wailed, tears brimming in his eyes as he grasped at the source of his torment.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, a blinding white light erupted from the head of his cock.

"The light of doom! What the fuck does this mean? Is this the universe telling me to cut back on the smut?"

He blinked in shock, half-expecting some cosmic being to appear and lecture him on the dangers of excessive fantasy.

But instead, he could only watch in horror as the light intensified, casting eerie shadows around the room.

'Thank you for your kind review. When your little brother awakens, you shall explode.'

"What the fuck! Is this real?"

Axel stammered, his mind racing. He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. But the pain was still there, a constant reminder that this was no fever dream.

He blinked in disbelief at the glowing, pulsing, bulging cock head. For a moment, he was so entranced by the bizarre sight that he momentarily forgot the agony he was in.

"What the hell is happening to me?" 

And then—like a balloon at a party that had been over-inflated—POP!

The light head inflated to ludicrous proportions before bursting in a spectacular explosion. The entire room illuminated brighter than a supernova, as if a nuke had just gone off, bathing everything in blinding white light.

But then, in the blink of an eye, it shifted to a vivid, shocking red, like a horror movie set gone wrong.

The next morning, Axel's mother's scream echoed through the neighborhood like an alarm clock nobody wanted to hear.

"Axel! Oh my god, NO!"

Her voice pierced the morning air, waking up every neighbor within a five-block radius, leaving everyone wondering if a murder had just occurred or if she'd finally found out about Axel's dubious hobbies.

When the authorities arrived, they found the boy in a state that could only be described as catastrophic. His entire manhood had vanished without a trace—like it had been swallowed by a black hole or possibly abducted by aliens. Chunks and pieces were splattered across the room, transforming it into a grotesque abstract art installation that no one ever wanted to discuss again.

And in all, the phone was still on, displaying the novel. What nobody had seen was the words on the display vanishing one by one, as if the universe itself was trying to erase the very existence of the tale.

The new chapter about Juliana was completely gone, swallowed by an unseen force. The previous chapter of Artis's death had vanished, leaving behind a void of unanswered questions.

The screen finally came to a halt at the moment where the guard was about to catch the minor villain, frozen mid-sentence as he was peeking at the Lady of the clan. It was as if time had stopped, the tension very thick, hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

But just as the guard's hand reached for the door, the phone emitted a soft ping, and the screen flickered ominously. Suddenly, new words began to materialize, bold and menacing, the ink seeming to bleed from the very pixels.

.

.

.

Welcome to another gem from this venerable and highly talented author in the art of Dual Cultivation. I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it. Stick around and enjoy even more!

By the way, feel free to leave your brain here. You won't need it for the upcoming journey!