Cyberpunk Patriarch - Chapter 109 – Recruiting!

Weary reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, dim library.Regrettably, this book is unwell.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised growths on the surface of its cover,Words written in bygone days are like parasites rooted in the pages, hoping for someone to observe their wriggling,To feel, to decipher, to touch the essence of this ailing story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please make sure to regularly check your own physical condition.

When an unlucky, awkward virgin dies in the most humiliating way possible (you don’t wanna know), he wakes up not in heaven… but a mechanical construct powered by divine magics built for a single purpose: Sex.In a fantasy world cursed by a sexually frustrated demon queen, men can’t keep it up, women haven’t had a decent orgasm in centuries, and birth rates have plummeted harder than masculine egos. Society is teetering on the edge of population collapse—and the only thing standing between mass hysteria and sweaty salvation... is him.His new owners? A smoking-hot, elven herbwitch MILF and her fiery half-dwarf, half-elf genius daughter who created him as their latest “intimate invention.” After a magical screw-up gives him a soul (and an upgrade below the belt), he becomes the only pleasure unit capable of leveling-up his powers of pleasure, independent thought—and maybe... emotional connection?Now powered by aphrodisiacs, awkwardness, and sheer mechanical stamina, our hero must navigate lusty labs, intense moaning missions, and a society starving for satisfaction... all while trying to survive being “tested” and “reviewed” by every noblewoman, monster girl, and lonely tavern wench in the realm.------------------WARNING: May contain excessive thrusting, magical lubricant, seductive stat screens, and one very confused virgin trying to do the right thing! Reader Beware... and bring tissues.

Hello, my name is Bologue Lazarus, a debtor.The wound on Bologue's face is healing at an observable speed. The blood remaining on his face flows back, and the skin is reattached, as if time is reversing.Faced with the terrified dying demon, he whispered.This is my “blessing”, the “debt” I owe.Sixty-six years ago, with the end of the Scorched Earth Fury, Opus of Oath City rose from the ruins of the Holy City.Sixty-six years later, the Kagader Empire and Rhine Alliance, two colossal entities spanning the continent, are plotting another all-consuming war.Order Bureau, King's Secret Sword, Order of Truth, Corrupted Sect, All Secrets Order... existences hidden in the shadows of history, trying to join this grand celebration.Under the curtain, the devils enjoy the agony of mortals, taste the values offered, manipulate fate, and bestow curses and blessings.Gazing at the mortals who were originally kindred spirits, they loathe and slaughter each other...

“Isn't this the weak young master of the Valhalla family?”“Hahaha! I heard he only knows how to waste money... Completely useless.”Another voice, dripping with false pity, chimed in.“Both his sister and brother are Tamers, strong ones at that. While him... the eldest... pathetic!!”The final word, spat out like a curse, hung in the air: “Useless!”In this world, where the bond with powerful Beasts dictated one's standing, where strength was synonymous with the ferocity and strength of your companion.Christopher Valhalla was an anomaly. He found solace not in the thrill of battle or the acquisition of monstrous power, but in the simple, fleeting joys of life. He enjoyed partying, clubs, and women.He offered no retort to the cruel rumors that trailed him like a shadow. Because, truth be told, a knot of fear tightened in his stomach at the mere sight of the majestic, often terrifying, creatures that others commanded.But every life, regardless of its perceived worth, eventually finds its end. For Christopher, it came not in the jaws of a wild Beast, nor in a duel he was ill-equipped for, but in the insidious grip of a rare and incurable sickness.Some days later his flame flickered and he died, leaving behind a void filled with the echoes of scorn.Yet, where one life ended, another began. In the silent stillness of Christopher's vacant shell, a new consciousness stirred. A soul, bearing the weight of unmatched power and a reputation that sent shivers down the spines of even the most formidable Tamers, had arrived.This was the Supreme Tamer, a legend whispered in hushed tones across the world, a force of nature who had inexplicably perished at the hands of betrayal.Given this unexpected second chance, the Supreme Tamer, now inhabiting the frail form of Christopher Valhalla, felt a strange sense of acceptance. He looked upon the unfamiliar yet familiar faces of his new family – the concerned worry etched on their features – and a flicker of something akin to kinship sparked within him.A silent vow formed in his mind, hardening into an unbreakable resolve.The rumors that clung to this body like a shroud would be torn away. And the five Master Tamers who had orchestrated his demise in his previous life… They would learn the true meaning of fear.Their betrayal would be answered, not with petty revenge, but with the full, terrifying might of the Supreme Tamer, reborn. The world was about to discover that “useless” could be the most dangerous disguise of all.