Count's Youngest Son is a Warlock - Chapter 181: The owl laughs (3)

With just three sentences, you convinced the Paladin to spend five thousand Gold Coins for you.You truly are a master of the Undead who thoroughly understands human nature!…“Respected Master Amberser, after our review by the editors at 'Legendary Spells' Publishing, we regret to inform you that your paper 'Research on the Non-Humanoid Form Modification of Undead Creatures' is unsuitable for publication in our monthly magazine. We suggest that you submit your work to a magical academic journal with less stringent review requirements.”A burst of ghostly blue flame erupted from the tips of fingers, reducing the rejection letter.“Damn it! You bastards are purely discriminating against liches, discriminating against undead magic!!!”“Drop dead!”

Keita Sumeragi was a man of dreams—once a hopeful mangaka who poured his soul into heartfelt tales of romance, comedy, and friendship. But the world never smiled back. Readers ignored him. Publishers laughed. And when the only offer he got was to draw the one thing he hated—NTR (Netorare)—he refused.Until life left him no choice.His wife walked out. His daughter starved. And when his first NTR manuscript was complete, the publisher gave the job to someone else.Broken, guilty, and hollow, Keita leapt from the rooftop with a bitter smile—Only to awaken in the world of his own rejected NTR manga.In this twisted realm, he’s reborn as the main protagonist—handsome, popular, and surrounded by women with all-too-familiar faces. His sweet and kind “motherly” wife resembles the wife who left him. His seductive stepsister has the same eyes as his daughter once did.In this warped erotic hell, where anyone can be seduced—teachers, aunts, even grandmothers—Keita must face his deepest guilt, his darkest fantasies, and the genre he once despised.Because in this world, NTR is fate.And the story must go on.

As the final dragon lay defeated, Aaran stared at the sky while the rest celebrated.[Awaiting the gods’ response...]He clenched his fists, his heart pounding. A shred of hope flickered in his eyes, only to be extinguished like always.[The attained outcome was deemed unsatisfactory.]Aaran had seen the message for the twentieth time. He had become the gods’ plaything in their desire to witness the “perfect ending”.He regressed once again, but this time as a toddler and charm being the only stat he had.But something was amiss. The world he remembered had changed. Powers that did not exist before had taken hold of the world.Tired of following the traditional route, Aaran chose to fight darkness with darkness… as the gods’ chosen necromancer!