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Playboy Cultivator in the Apocalypse

Kaze survived the apocalypse five millennia ago. Was crowned the emperor of the five planes. Dubbed leader of a harem of immortals. Enjoyed a truly flawless reputation. Evolved into a living legend. And declared a sex god. It was nearly reality. Becoming a god. A real one. Then... He lost it all. Got sent to the past. Transmigrated into his old body. 22 days before the apocalypse began. However, things would be different this time. Kaze had techniques and knowledge of the future. A chance to save his past lovers from death. Had the luxury of enjoying his power. So he decided to stick around. Build a lavish party base. Enjoy modern living. Live as a playboy. Dual cultivate. Love again. And so. Kaze acted. Built his reputation. Acquired wealth and fame. Trained, protected, and led mortals. Built an offensively decadent settlement. And partied it up in a monster-festered hellscape. ═─┈─═─┈─═─┈─═─┈─═ PlayCult is a serious apocalypse novel. However, it has frequent lemons, charm, romance, and humor. The story becomes faster-paced and increasingly action, adventure, and harem-focused as it progresses. Sexual content. No cheating; no yuri. #AbsurdlyFaithful ═─┈─═─┈─═─┈─═─┈─═ Harem | Dual Cultivation | Apocalypse | Transmigration | Survival | Kingdom Building | Romance | Lemons | Lemons | Lemons | FBI Unnecessary | Charming Sociopath | Dark | Comedy | Very Action | Much Adventure | New Tropes | Old Tropes | Best Tropes | All The Tropes | Except for the Bad Tropes | No Bad Tropes | There is a Yandere | You're Welcome

Margrave · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
359 Chs

Party Lines

"There's an in-tact skyscraper I know of a couple of miles from here." Jackson, the blonde-haired teen, announced, "Let's post up on the top and snipe these freaks in shifts!"

"Into a skyscraper!?" The brown-haired woman with matted hair scoffed angrily, "Are you insane!?"

"I'm not!" Jackson yelled with a fiery temperament, "If Ice General Skye wants us to practice, we should do it!"

"KYahhhHHhahhhHHhahhhhHHhhhH!"

CRaCkkKk! CRaaSHhHh! CRaaackKKkk! BOOM!

Thousands of zombies weaved and jumped over cars on the clogged ten-mile road through the city.

"You call [this] training!?" She scoffed angrily, "Wake the fuck up, kid!

You're already delusional for trusting that woman. Now, as you're about to die, you're still gonna play her games!?"

"Shut the fuck up, Brenna." Keaton, the gruff, bearded man, scoffed, "Training or not, this is a fucking suicide mission—let's just agree on that. She fucked us, now we gotta survive; end of discussion.