Dana slid her shirt off slowly, her large breasts bouncing slightly with every small movement. They were full, firm, and shamelessly proud beneath the dim light.
Riley leaned back in his seat, eyes glued to his phone. A crooked smirk pulled at his lips before he forced it away.
'Damn…' he muttered inwardly, tearing his gaze away from the screen.
He stretched with a loud grunt, arms extended high above his head. A cool evening breeze swept past him, making his skin prickle. Another small groan escaped him as he exhaled.
'This scene is hot as hell… but the writing? Terrible.' he sighed mentally.
He dropped his phone onto the table with a soft thud and rubbed his face with both hands. The story he'd been reading was from some random harem novel — but it just wasn't hitting the way he hoped.
'Why is writing a harem story so damn difficult?' he wondered, glaring at the blank screen.
'I mean… all you have to do is make some guy hook up with a sexy milf or some gorgeous woman. Isn't that the whole formula?'
But then again… perhaps it wasn't that simple.
He leaned back again, fingers tapping lightly against the chair.
'I guess you need, like… some actual depth too.' he admitted with a defeated sigh.
He lifted his chin. Dark, swollen clouds crept across the sky, swallowing the daylight inch by inch. The storm was coming fast.
Riley breathed out heavily.
'Nothing beats reading a good web novel right when the rain starts falling…' he thought, a lazy smile tugging at him.
He sat outside a tiny café, right at the edge where the chairs faced the street. Cars zipped past, horns blaring now and then. People hustled down the sidewalk, half-open umbrellas flipping violently as they hurried to beat the storm.
The whole atmosphere felt tense, energized — everyone knew the rain would strike hard any moment.
Riley, on the other hand, had been buried so deep in his reading that he only just remembered the world around him.
With a quiet sigh, he pushed up from his seat. His knees cracked as he stretched.
"Alright… time to head home." he muttered.
He dug some coins out of his pocket and left them on the table with a dry clink — payment for the barely-touched coffee.
He slipped his phone away, shoved both hands deep into his hoodie pockets, and began to walk.
Step.
Step.
Step.
He hunched a bit, shoulders raised, shielding himself from the cutting wind. His hands stayed buried, his head lowered.
All around him, people jogged past, umbrellas turning inside out as the air whipped around them. Everyone was desperate to escape the incoming storm.
But Riley's thoughts weren't on the weather.
'What the hell has harem writing turned into…?' he sighed quietly, lifting his phone again to glance at the terrible novel he'd been reading.
"'Harem Overload', my foot…" he scoffed, twisting his lips.
Such a good idea. Completely butchered.
But that was Riley for you.
A 19-year-old web novel addict through and through — always reading, always thinking about stories.
And not just any stories.
He loved the erotic, R-18 ones.
The ones packed with steamy scenes, indulgent fantasies, and all the "details" thirsty readers craved.
That was his secret weakness.
Yet no matter how many he read, there was always something wrong.
Either the endings were so bad they made him regret the coins he'd donated…
Or the beginnings were so bland he nearly fell asleep…
Or worse — the writing was so atrocious he wished he could bleach his eyeballs.
His hands curled into fists inside his pockets.
'I'm done with this crap.' he growled internally.
'Is it too much to ask for a GOOD harem novel? One with real heat, an actual plot, and of course… a proper HAREM!?'
Right then, tiny droplets kissed the top of his hoodie.
It began as a soft pattering. Then heavier drops followed, splashing against the pavement, lighting it up with a wet shine.
Riley groaned, pulling out a raincoat from his backpack and slipping it on quickly.
"Tsk… annoying weather." he muttered, fastening it up.
He walked on, pace steady.
Halfway down the street, he stopped.
A spark — wild, sudden, and reckless — shot through his mind.
'You know what? Screw it.' he decided, fire igniting in his chest.
"I'll write my OWN web novel."
A grin stretched wide across his face.
"Yeah… I've got the perfect story already."
His fingers twitched, eager to type, to spill out the images swirling in his head.
"That's right. I'll do it. I'll write the greatest harem story ever created!"
He whipped out his phone again, tapping rapidly as he opened his usual app.
Rain hammered down harder now, thunder rumbling softly — but Riley barely noticed.
As others sprinted past him, dodging puddles and seeking shelter, Riley ducked beneath the small overhang of a nearby building — just enough to keep the rain off him.
His heartbeat quickened, excitement mixing with the cold, wet air.
'I know exactly what I want to write.' he thought, breathing deep.
He tapped on Create A Book.
The app blinked, loading. A prompt appeared, asking for the title.
A small laugh escaped him — almost boyish.
"Perfect…" he whispered, smile widening.
"I already know the title."
He typed it out carefully.
[The Harem Slave Author's POV.]
"So original…" he snorted, grinning like an idiot.
He hit Next.
A final screen appeared, prompting him to press Create.
'This is it.' he thought. 'This is the beginning. I'm going to be the greatest Harem author alive.'
He pressed down—
BOOOOM!!!
A blinding streak of lightning cracked through the sky, splitting the clouds wide open.
He didn't even have time to shout.
The bolt struck him directly — raw heat, raw force — and then everything vanished.
There wasn't even real pain.
Just crushing pressure… then absolute nothingness.
His last thought was simple, fading like smoke:
"I was… clicking the create button—"
His charred body hit the soaked pavement, steam curling upward as rain poured relentlessly over him.
The street was empty now.
No footsteps.
No chatter.
Only the pounding rain and distant thunder rolling through the night.
Time stood still.
Darkness deepened.
Everything went silent.
And then—
From the shadows, a deep, ancient voice echoed, trembling through the air like a divine command:
"Rise, Riley Cross."