Have you ever wondered what truly set the human heart racing, making a body shiver with uncontrollable thrill?
Was it skydiving, mountain climbing, surfing, or maybe even the excitement of a football match?
Nah, not even close.
For me, the most exhilarating thing had always been pounding someone else's wife, burying myself deep inside her moist cunt, feeling her walls tighten around me as she moaned, her guilt written all over her face while she betrayed everything she had promised to someone else.
That shame, that pleasure, the way she gave in completely, losing herself in the moment as I took what wasn't mine—that was the kind of rush nothing else could provide.
To me, the ultimate thrill was Netori.
Taking what someone else treasured and making it mine.
But that was just my online persona. In reality, I was the guy everyone called kind, the one my parents praised for having a heart as pure as a saint.
"Kind like a holy cow," they'd say, half-joking, half-proud.
I never bullied anyone, not that I could, being as weak as I was. I never made a girl cry, never hurt anyone intentionally. If anything, I wanted to do the opposite.
Loving a woman, making her happy, treating her like she deserved the world. I had been loyal to the core, the kind of guy who would never even entertain the thought of cheating.
In fact, watching people around me cheat on their sweet, devoted partners filled me with disgust. It made me want to kill them for throwing away something so precious. If I had ever gotten the chance to have a girlfriend, I'd have cherished her like a treasure.
Sadly, I had never had a girlfriend. Not even once.
Maybe that was why I buried myself in reading. Not just any books, though—degenerate ones.
The kind written by authors who couldn't write a proper story to save their lives. All they cared about was sex, women, more sex, and even more women.
Keep it harem, keep it flashy—that had been their motto.
My guilty pleasure? Netori. I despised NTR, obviously.
But as a certified hypocrite, I had no problem indulging in the other side of the coin—stealing, not losing.
I told myself I read those books because they were longer, more detailed, and gave me something to work with when I stroked my dick.
After all, the doctors and so-called "experts" said porn was bad for your health, so I figured switching to reading fucked-up novels was the lesser evil.
Looking back, I regretted it, especially one comment I left on a book. A single comment on a trashy Netori novel that changed my life forever. Or maybe ruined it completely.
The book? How to NTR the Hero in the Academy.
A steaming pile of garbage that I hated with every fiber of my being.
"Damn it... If I had known, I'd never have read that trash novel," I muttered under my breath.
The sun was already high in the sky, marking the start of another day in this strange, chaotic world. The streets were alive with the hustle of wagons creaking over cobblestones, the braying of donkeys, merchants shouting over their stalls, and the endless chatter of people. Yet, for me, walking through it all felt like being trapped in some overly dramatic stage play.
This was the city of Gendal, a bustling hub in the world of Torsen. A world I'd only ever known as the setting of How to NTR a Hero in the Academy, a novel I regretted ever laying eyes on.
And now, here I was, stuck in it.
Everyone on the street stared at me like I'd just stepped out of a circus tent. Their eyes trailed me, wide with judgment, mockery, and a hint of disgust. Every step I took felt heavier, each stare pressing down on me like a physical weight.
They didn't even bother to keep their whispers to themselves.
"Is that guy okay? He looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over."
"Damn, I didn't know pencils could walk!" a girl snickered, her voice sharp and cutting.
Her boyfriend grabbed her arm, pulling her away as he hissed, "Come on, don't make it worse for him."
But she wouldn't stop. "Hehe... honey, I wonder if his cock is thinner than his shitty body."
"Shut up. You're drunk," he muttered, dragging her along.
But I heard it. I heard everything.
Yes, that skinny, frail-looking guy with blonde hair and unsettling dark red eyes—that was me. The freak, the walking punchline. The guy everyone seemed to despise on sight.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, this wasn't just any random world. This was the cursed setting of that damn novel, How to NTR a Hero in the Academy.
In this place, I wasn't even a named character, let alone a protagonist. No, I was worse than that. I was a literal nobody. A street-side rock probably held more value than me.
Great. Just great.
I stood in the middle of the street, frozen, as my thoughts spiraled. This wasn't just a random fantasy world—it was that novel. The worst one I'd ever read.
It was a typical academy novel, the kind with an overpowered hero blessed by fate or gods or whatever, surrounded by beautiful women, and destined for glory. In this case, there wasn't just one hero. No, the world was teeming with them, all blessed with powers beyond imagination. The standout hero of this story was someone known as the "Star-Blessed," a guy with powers so radiant and overwhelming that he could reshape the world.
But none of that mattered because the story wasn't even about him.
The protagonist was Alex Randel, a reincarnated man like me, but with none of my uselessness.
He was the walking embodiment of disaster, a complete monster hiding behind a handsome face and noble lineage.
Alex was the son of Baron Randel, the ruler of this city, Gendal, which made my stomach churn even more.
Alex's sole purpose in this world? To steal. To take everything the Ten Great Heroes held dear. Their glory, their status, and most of all, their women.
And he wasn't shy about it. He didn't charm them, didn't win their hearts with wit or effort. No, the bastard had the power to hypnotize people, to make any woman bend to his will, he raped them ruthlessly.
I read the book for its Netori tag. Thought it'd be fun, you know? Watching a protagonist take what wasn't his.
But I hated it.
The women in the story weren't just easy, they had no agency. They were reduced to dolls in Alex's hands, mindlessly obeying him.
It wasn't exciting or satisfying. It was just... disgusting.
The story started like every other cookie-cutter piece of trash: a noble engagement broken off in some grand, public spectacle.Yawn....Then Alex turned evil, completely unhinged. He became a nightmare, a dark force that ruined everything in his path.
And the worst part? The first heroine in the story was Isabella Deathclaw.
My sister-in-law.
The sweet, kind flower shop owner with silver-white hair, impossibly tender skin, and a body that could make saints weep. She was described as having an "evil-charming body," a cruel twist of the author to make her a perfect victim.
In the book, Alex raped her by the third chapter.
"Damn it!" I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. The thought of her ending up like that, of her being nothing more than a broken toy for Alex, I couldn't stand it.
How could I let that happen? How could I sit back and watch as she was destroyed? The absurd thought crossed my mind, unbidden and wild:
"If anyone's going to defile her, it's going to be me. Only I deserves to fuck such woman"
And then, as if the universe heard my declaration, a glowing blue screen materialized before my eyes.
[Name: Magnus Deathclaw]
[Level- 3]
[Strength: 09/100]
[Height: 6.5 feet]
[Weight: 48 kg]
[Magic: Mirror, Cage, Chain]
[Mana: 09/100]
[Overall Status: Worse. Will die in three days.]
[Main Goal: Fuck every woman that belongs to the protagonist and anti-hero Alex , make sure he dies a virgin.]
[Time Limit: 4 Years.]
[Penalty: Get destroyed.]
"What the...?" I stumbled backward, my breath catching in my throat.
The words burned into my brain. The system's cold, emotionless text might as well have been a death sentence.
This wasn't a joke. This wasn't some messed-up fever dream. I was here, in a world far more real than I wanted it to be.
And now, this mute, glowing bastard of a system was telling me to NTR the heroes and steal the women from Alex.
How was I supposed to do that?
Not only was Alex ridiculously overpowered, but the heroes themselves were literal champions chosen by gods.
And me?
I had the stats of a skeleton on the verge of collapse.
I stared at the screen in disbelief.
"Just kill me already," I said.