The Eunuch is Pregnant - Chapter 291

Kota Sakamoto—virgin weeb, social reject, and hentai game addict—gets sucked into a perverted dungeon world straight out of Carnal Labyrinth EX, the 18+ erotic strategy game he secretly 100%-cleared.The catch?All eight of his hot classmates and their strict MILF teacher got dragged in with him.The other catch?They hate his guts.Worse still, this dungeon world is exactly like the game—every level a twisted, orgasm-fueled survival puzzle where failure means death by overstimulation, lust-monsters, or trap-triggered climaxes that literally drain your soul.He’s the only one who knows how to survive.They either listen to the virgin... or moan themselves to death.Bondage plants, lewd slime traps, fetish trials, and orgasm boss fights await—and the only way forward is obedience.What starts as reluctant cooperation turns into obsession, as each girl slowly falls for the boy they once mocked...…the virgin who’s now their dungeon master.

In a Fantasy world in which a young girl with the Divine Protection of the Hero battles against the Demon Lord. In that world, Red, the elder brother of that young girl Hero, possessing the Divine Protection of the Guide which only grants a high initial level, fought in the initial party of the Hero.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”

With a square halberd in the palm, and a red rabbit and horse under him, nowhere can the world go!

- Description from novelbuddy