Became a Strategist with a 100 Intelligence and 100\% Accuracy - Chapter 9: The Brans Army’s Invasion (1)

Every night, he prayed. To every god on Earth.“Please, transport me to a fantasy world when I wake up tomorrow.”And then one day, his prayers were answered.Just not in the way he had hoped for.

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT | HAREM | R18+ | COMEDY | ACTION | FILTHY ROMANCE[Ding!][Author Mode Obtained][Author Mode Activated][Welcome, Harem Overlord]After a freak accident, Steve Jobson wakes up inside the world of his own novel—where women dominate society as powerful mages, and men are seen as little more than afterthoughts.However, Steve isn't just any man. Breaking the very rules of this world, he awakens magic of his own and earns the right to enter the prestigious—and formerly all-girls—Arcane Bloom Academy.Armed with the forbidden ability to rewrite the very events of this world, Steve’s journey isn’t just about getting stronger...It’s about taking everything he ever wanted—pleasure, power, and absolute dominance.With a world full of MILFs—women deprived of men for far too long—desperate and hungry for his touch, Steve is more than ready to satisfy them all....From his own busty mother to the head mistress of the academy...Every Milf is his!The story is only just beginning...But somethings, even an author can't predict how a story ends.There will be Smut, Hardcore Harem, Power Progression, Magic Battles, Dark Secrets, Taboo Love, and Severe Degeneracy.Additional Tags: Magic Academy | MILF | Forbidden Love | System | Domination | Reverse Society | Smut | Revenge | Comedy

Dancing on the point of a knife, as a dancer in the dark, his dance steps makes the enemy tremble.

As a man who is followed by the goddess of fortune, he has been reborn with two years of experience in the game, numerous raid experience, hidden task guide and the best equipment references. The things he once lost, what he didn’t hold and those that had been taken, he is going to get them back.

- Description from Novelupdates

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.