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The Profane Dungeon Is A Trap!

"As a little lesson, try believing in things that are impossible. After all, how else can they become?" Yroa is a petitely hung, sadistic, mischievous, yet charismatic male prostitute who was born with a face befitting that of a youthful goddess, something that should be bestowed to a woman—not a man. However, instead of loathing it, he used this gift to its fullest, leading to a rather successful and lecherous life until his unfortunate end welcomed him in front of the inferno’s gate. Unexpectedly, a sequence of salvations arrives, resulting in his second chance in life within the new world of Yassimhre as a Living Dungeon Core! In a world where values are numbered, the sky of cultivation is limitless—while the Gods and Goddesses are gambling on how things will go in the grand scheme of emanation, how will he survive? ___________ Reader discretion is advised: Explicit and mature content ahead! If it isn’t obvious enough, the MC is a Trap, albeit an aggressive and dominant one instead of meek and submissive. There’s no Yuri, Yaoi, nor NTR content, but a significant potential for Netori can be found. At the same time, a lot of straight Trapdom and Josou Seme. Occasionally, Femdom. Average word count per chapter is 2000-4000 outside of the short prologue. With it, the author wishes you a good day. May there be light, and the tale that follows it along the way.

YokoyokoRPG · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
84 Chs

Butcher Vanity

"..." Intensively, Yroa checked to see the ohr signature of her familiar, who just happened to be inside a room that Yroa bunkered with systematic spells for all kinds of protection. "Ah, she is fine."

Thankfully, Yroa made it so that he could access the content of the locked room while it's active using his own ohr signature as the indication of access, just like having a fingerprint password for a lock.

"I guess I'm worried for not-"

All of a sudden, a crimson sharp edge was swung horizontally from behind. Before the impending dismemberment, Yroa swiftly brandished his modified Valor Tongue and weaved it to clash with the ongoing attack.

The colliding edges of two weapons created a bright crescent tide of greenish teal and red, and just before Yroa could see the perpetrator that was undetected by his ohr signature scanning, another attack was hurled.

"Oh."