"Aaah!!!"

Axel jolted upright in bed, heart pounding. The first thing he did was fumble with his robe, pulling it open to check on his "little brother," gripping his cock to examine it with exaggerated scrutiny. His eyes lingered on the swollen mushroom head, the memory of his bizarre dream—or rather, his strange reality—flooding back.

"Phew… okay, still there. What the hell… did that actually happen?"

The nightmare was still fresh: some messed-up vision of his cock swelling up to monstrous proportions, throbbing until—pop!—and suddenly, boom, he wakes up in this wild novel world.

"Damn it! That sick bastard really did send me here. How in the hell is that even possible?!"

He rubbed his head, trying to make sense of the chaos. He'd maybe wished for an adventure like this back when he was a horny teenager, but at nineteen, he'd thought he was past all that ridiculous fantasy stuff.

Yet here he was, living out every embarrassing, over-the-top fantasy he'd ever had—only now, they were no longer just hazy dreams. They were his new, insane reality.

"This is ridiculous, but..."

A slow, twisted grin crept onto Axel's face, equal parts perverted and villainous. Beneath the absurdity, there was an undeniable thrill.

"Does this mean I'm Artis now? Everything I did yesterday wasn't for nothing... and I can make the most of it."

He lowered his head, one hand covering the side of his face as a chuckle escaped, gradually escalating into a full-on maniacal laugh, the kind you'd expect from a third-rate movie villain savoring his grand scheme.

"Heh—he he he—I can learn magic! I can fly, spit fire, and ride dragons! Literally and figuratively. And in this world, I can finally build a harem! Thank you, Mr. C0CKTIMUSPRIME, for this gift! I'll never forget it."

He leapt from the bed, dropping to his knees in a dramatic kowtow—a reverent tribute to the twisted deity who'd delivered him from his dull, dead-end life.

"I wonder how that miserable old hag of a mother is holding up? Probably forcing out a few tears for appearances at my funeral. After that, though? She'll be dancing in the streets."

With a gleeful cackle, he burst into an impromptu victory dance, flailing his arms and legs like a madman.

His robe slid off his shoulders, and with a wild flourish, he whipped it around before tossing it aside, standing stark naked. Then, with a devilish grin, he swung his hips, letting his new nine-inch "third leg" whirl around like a triumphant helicopter blade.

"Wives, daughters, grandmothers, nieces, and any woman in sight! Prepare yourselves, for your master has arrived! Mwahahahaha!"

Abruptly, he stopped, his eyes narrowing with a more focused ambition.

"First objective… steal the dual cultivation scroll from the palace. But before that, I wonder if my dear stepmother and her sweet little daughter are awake yet. After yesterday's little escapade, I'll bet Juliana's 'innocent' sister is quivering down there."

A devilish smirk curled his lips as he savored the thought.

"Time to mess with my dear mommy a little."

He murmured with a wicked grin, rubbing his hands together. Quickly, he threw on his robe, slipped out of his room, and into the early morning light. As he took a quick look around, he noted with amusement that Chen was nowhere to be seen.

"Ah, good old Chen. Already up at dawn and off to the palace. Diligent as ever—poor guy's too busy playing guard dog to notice what's right under his nose."

Skipping any detours to check on his sister or father, he made a beeline for the kitchen like a wolf on the scent. And sure, he was hungry—but not in the usual way.

…

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Juliana stood deep in thought, her brow furrowed with a mix of concern and confusion.

The events of the previous night played in fragmented pieces in her mind.

She remembered being invited to drink with some men, and though she initially refused, their attention had stirred something in her, making her feel youthful and desired once more.

After that, though, things became hazy.

She recalled the warm flush of the drinks, the raucous laughter, loud noises, and then a blur of motion, as if she'd been lifted into the air. And finally, a face—a figure who had leaned in close, speaking to her through the fog of her intoxicated mind.

'Was it… little Artis? Was he the one who saved me?'

Juliana's cheeks flushed as she thought back to the previous night. She remembered the scattered chaos in the drinking room—tables overturned, broken cups strewn about.

Yet, whenever she tried to focus on her supposed savior, her body betrayed her, a warm, throbbing ache pulsing down low on her little sister, her nipples hardening beneath her robe. Her thighs pressed together involuntarily as the sensation intensified, and she found herself on the verge of something forbidden.

'What is going on with me? Why am I so... so needy all of a sudden? Just one touch, and I swear I'll have the orgasm of my entire life...'

Slap—slap!

Juliana abruptly slapped her cheeks, snapping herself out of the trance. If anyone saw her, they might think she was losing her mind.

'Get a grip, Juliana. It's barely morning, and here you are, caught up in these… sinful thoughts.'

She scolded herself, her heart pounding.

Desperate for a distraction, she turned her attention back to the pot, stirring the soup with a fervor that barely masked the heat pooling in her belly. But no matter how she tried, she couldn't ignore the pulsing desire teasing her from below.

Bam!

"Mommy!"

The shoji door burst open with a bang, nearly flying off its hinges, and Juliana was startled and felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks—if Artis had kicked it any harder, she might've leaked right then and there. Startled, she almost dropped the wooden ladle she was holding.

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