The last thing I saw in my old life wasn't some tearful goodbye, or a lover's embrace, or even the stars.
Nope.
It was a massive pair of tits.
On my cracked phone screen.
I was hunched on the toilet, pants around my ankles, scrolling through my usual "research material." One second I was about to nut, the next, the damn floor gave way. Rotten wood, broken pipe, whatever—down I went, plunging three stories straight into my neighbor's kitchen.
Neck snapped like a twig. Pants still down. My body sprawled on her floor like some perverted crime scene.
I'd love to say people wept for me. Truth is, the only tears came from my neighbor screaming about the traumatizing sight of my hairy ass on her tiles.
That was the grand finale of Lynx Brian, failed writer, thirty-three years old, unemployed, zero girlfriends, a master of wasting time on porn sites and webnovels nobody read.
And maybe that was fitting. My whole life had been a joke.
…But death? Death wasn't silence.
It was a voice.
Cold. Mechanical. Teasing.
[MILF System Detected…]
[Synchronizing host consciousness.]
"Eh? What the fuck did you just say?"
[Synchronization successful.]
[Rebooting host body.]
The darkness yanked me deeper, like being flushed down some cosmic toilet. Then, light.
I woke up.
My eyes opened to a velvet canopy above me. Not a water-stained ceiling. Not peeling paint. Not the mildew stink of my old apartment. No, this was silk. Rich, deep crimson silk.
The bed beneath me? Softer than any woman I'd ever touched.
"Did… did I respawn in a porno?" I muttered, grabbing a handful of the sheets.
That's when I noticed my hand.
Not stubby fingers with bitten nails. Not pale, greasy skin from sitting at a computer all day.
This hand was elegant. Strong. Rings glittered on each finger. The skin was flawless, pale but not sickly, like it belonged to someone who didn't know the meaning of labor.
I stumbled to the mirror across the chamber and nearly choked.
Jet-black hair fell to my shoulders. My jawline could cut glass. My eyes were a stormy, dangerous gray. My face was handsome in a way I'd always written about but never had the balls—or genetics—to achieve.
It hit me like a sledgehammer.
I knew this face.
I'd written this face.
"…No fucking way."
I was staring at Lord Lynx Brian—the final villain of my own trashy webnovel.
The bastard I'd killed off in Chapter Fifty just to make the hero look cooler. The womanizing scumbag who had every milf, widow, and seductress wrapped around his finger… before getting skewered like a pig.
"…I'm in my own story."
The voice came back.
[MILF System Activated!]
Welcome, Host. Your mission is simple:
– Seduce the women who were fated to destroy you.
– Dominate them, body and soul.
– Twist the story's destiny in your favor.
I blinked, then grinned like a lunatic. "Wait, wait, wait… you're telling me the cheat I get is literally called the MILF System?"
[Affirmative.]
"Oh my god, this is amazing."
In my past life, my peak sexual achievement had been fapping to comments under hentai gifs. Now? The universe had just handed me the keys to a harem of women who were destined to kill me.
[First Task Generated!]
– Establish dominance over your household.
– Reward: Basic Status Screen + Beginner Skill: Dirty Talk Lv.1
"…Dirty talk?" I muttered. "That's an actual skill?"
Before I could laugh again, the door creaked open.
And in walked trouble.
She was tall, her body poured into a black dress that hugged every curve like a lover's hand. Her hips swayed with the kind of rhythm that made my throat dry. Her breasts looked like they were seconds from breaking free, and her dark hair was tied up in a way that screamed authority.
Her eyes met mine—sharp, experienced, and full of suspicion.
"Lord Brian," she said, her voice smooth, dangerous. "You're awake."
I didn't recognize her immediately. But then the memories in this body whispered her name.
Lady Marienne. The widow I'd written as his steward. Loyal on the surface, but secretly plotting to betray him.
In my novel, she tried to poison him by Chapter Three.
Now? She was standing in front of me, legs for days, lips like sin, the kind of mature beauty that could end marriages with a glance.
The MILF System chimed in my head.
[Target Identified: Marienne, Widow Steward.]
Threat Level: High.
Temptation Level: Maximum.
Oh, I was so fucked.
And for once in my life… I couldn't wait.