webnovel

Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Quinlan, a simple office worker finds himself transmigrated to an extremely dangerous fantasy land as a level 1 Commoner with nothing to his name but his wits- and a unique gift that accompanied his teleportation. No one in Thalorind could have predicted that this unassuming arrival would one day rise to the top, redefining the very meaning of the term 'power'... And that he may have achieved said result by joining a criminal organization and clawing his way through its ranks as well as establishing his own business empire that may or may not have relied on slave labor. In the beginning Quinlan was painfully weak and alone, but thanks to his severe trust issues, joining a team was... hard. However, he soon noticed that a lot of people have collars around their necks in this world... People that couldn't exactly betray him. Follow Quinlan's journey as he grows in strength, amasses wealth, fights to the death, and meets lovely ladies. ... Discord: https://discord.gg/bjunEkswQ3 ... Disclaimer: I'd received a few harsh complaints from some readers that my MC is not a real villain, and I have to agree; if you're looking for some complete psycho MC who burns random farmer villages down just for fun then don't read. The MC is a ruthless man who does evil things from time to time, but only to his enemies or those he considers to be true scum. He gains no joy from tormenting strangers. Also don't read if you want a story about buying s*x slaves and r*ping them, that doesn't happen in this novel. He will treat the women he wants to be with as if they were normal people, whether they're slaves or not.

NecroBin · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
464 Chs

Hana, The Beautiful Battle Babe

The guild hall is bustling with activity. Adventurers of every level are spread out across the area, with some gathered in clusters chatting about quests, while others are bragging about their recent victories. When the doors open, the room falls silent. All eyes turn to us, and I can see the curiosity in their gazes.

"Who are they?" I hear someone whisper.

"Must be high-ranked," another murmurs, eyes wide with admiration.

Ayame and I stride confidently towards the guild's mission board, our armor clinking softly with each step. The intricate designs on Ayame's suit catch the light, highlighting the golden patterns that speak of her disciplined training and the honor she carries into every battle.

"Look at those two," a seasoned-looking warrior says, nodding in our direction. "They must be at least Silver rank, if not higher."

"Probably Gold," his companion replies, clearly impressed.