Harem God- Dimensional Motel System-Chapter 21: Noisy Night 2

'Whatever... I'll handle her later. Got better things to do than worry about what she thinks of me.'

He dragged one of the wolf corpses outside and dropped it on the ground.

After catching his breath, he sat down, set the laptop on his lap, and opened the online marketplace out of curiosity. Sure enough, there it was: a listing.

Option 1: Sell whole.

The price was decent. Then he noticed something below it: "Sell by parts."

He raised an eyebrow. 'Wait, you're telling me I can get more if I butcher this thing myself?'

Out of interest, he tapped the breakdown menu. Fur, claws, fangs, meat, even the damn eyeballs were sellable.

"Well... gross."

Still, money was money.

He retrieved the kitchen knife from the shelf, knelt beside the corpse, and began slicing .

The fur was tougher than he expected, and his cuts were messy. Bits of skin clung to the muscle, and blood soaked into the dirt around him.

By the time he finished skinning just one, he looked like an extra from a low-budget horror film. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

He quickly took photos and uploaded the parts for sale. A few moments later, the coins popped into his account—less than he hoped for, but better than nothing.

'I should probably learn some hunting skills... I'm still too messy with this,'

The marketplace even listed what made prices drop: uneven cuts, damaged fur, missing parts. And a better knife wouldn't hurt either. But that would have to wait.

When he double-checked the prices, selling the parts separately only earned about 40% more.

For now, it wasn't worth the extra work, so he sold the rest all at once. In total, he made 67EC.

It could have been more, but the system always took its cut in the form of tax. 

'Yeah, right. What's it even doing with that money? Spending it in Malibu with some fancy high-rise hotel friends?'

With the corpse taken care of, he stood up and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his back.

Glancing at his watch, he saw it was already past 7:00 pm.

'I should probably cook dinner—might earn me some good points with her,'

He remembered the place didn't have a kitchen. Cooking wasn't his thing anyway—too much hassle.

So he bought a kettle and gathered dry leaves and branches to start a fire. If he could boil water, that was close enough to cooking.

As for fire, he made one himself using dry leaves and branches scattered around the motel.

He settled by the fire, watching the flames flicker in the dark. In this world, he could walk much farther now—maybe twice the distance before hitting the barrier.

The weird thing about the invisible wall? It only trapped him. Nothing stopped from getting in.

'Lucky me, just what I needed—a one-way prison with no security.'

He grumbled loudly, but had to admit—shouting at a makeshift campfire under the stars, with the cold fresh air around him, was oddly soothing. He went from wanting to set this place on fire to just hoping a boulder would crush it instead.

Ironically, that meant the motel was starting to grow on him.

The night stayed quiet for a few minutes, the fire crackling softly beside him.

Then, suddenly, the kettle let out a sharp hiss. He waited about ten seconds before pouring the hot water into two cups—one seafood flavor, the other beef broth.

Back home, this was cheap and unhealthy food, but here? It would be treated as a luxury.

No matter how magical this world was, nothing beat processed junk loaded with MSG and who knows what else—stuff that probably didn't help anyone live longer.

'I'll steal her heart through her stomach—pretending I cooked it,' he smiled wildly, already taking credit.

There was a saying in his old world that a man who knows how to cook wins a woman's heart every time.

knock!

knock!

He tapped the door twice and called out, "Lady Neve. Dinner is ready."

No answer came, so he knocked again.

"Lady Neve, your food's getting cold. I'll leave it on the floor—please take it. I know you haven't eaten yet."

After placing the cup noodles carefully on the floor, he returned to the reception desk and sat down.

The motel hallway was quiet except for the faint creak of old floorboards coming from the bedroom.

Soon, the door at the end of the hall cracked open just a little.

Suddenly, a hand shot out, grabbed the noodles like a hungry thief, and disappeared before a word could be said.

"What a cute little princess," he blurted without thinking.

A second later, his brain caught up with his mouth.

"Okay, that sounded way creepier out loud."

Clearing his throat, he turned toward the Silver Box—the reward from the bonus mission.

This time, he opened it normally, hoping the system wouldn't pull another prank.

It didn't.

Inside was what looked like a hammer. The second he touched it, a window pop up.

[Magical Hammer: Allows the owner to repair broken items or damaged structures within the motel. Repair cost varies based on damage.]

'Wait... can this fix that?' he added, eyes lighting up.

Without wasting a second, he rushed to the store's open window, raised the hammer, and gave it a solid whack—practically yelling "repair!" in his head like some RPG protagonist.

Nothing happened.

He tapped the frame again, this time more politely.

Still nothing.

"Okay, maybe it's voice-activated?" he whispered. "Fix window!"

Silence.

The hammer just stared back at him like it was judging his life choices

Growing impatient, he waved the hammer, shouting, "System, what the hell is this useless piece of junk? I want a refund!"

[Refund Denied: In what universe can a hammer fix broken glass?]

He stood there, speechless. How could he even argue with that?

'...At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if it took roasting courses from my grandfather' he muttered, dragging himself back toward the reception desk.

'What happened to my protagonist aura?'

Back when he fought those wolves, he felt like some overpowered anime MC. He even dropped that cheesy one-liner—"You guys don't get it. You're not the predators here—I am."

For a moment, his aura farming was off the charts—enough to make any otaku grin like crazy if the scene had cut to a close-up of his face as he dropped that line.

Then reality hit. Just like that, he was back to being the motel's personal caretaker—and the target of all the verbal abuse.

'I swear, I'll make you respect me one day...'