webnovel

ACCIDENTALLY CREATED AN OP HAREM IN A FANTASY WORLD

One day, Lucina Brown is presented with a mysterious offer by a goddess: to swap lives with Lucina Solana, a princess from a fantastical realm. Intrigued, Lucina Brown accepts the deal, seeing it as the perfect opportunity to fulfill her deepest desire of having her own harem. After all, what better place than a fantasy world for such fantasies to come true? However, when the three random slaves she acquires turn out to be extraordinarily rare finds—a genius swordsman, a powerful mage, and an elven prince with unmatched talents—it becomes clear that her harem is not just powerful, but overwhelmingly so. Isn't this a little too OP?

Sofie_Vert01 · ファンタジー
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71 Chs
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Life's good

As Lucina Brown watched the city lights twinkle through the falling snow, she savored each sip of hot chocolate. Nestled into her plush sofa in the penthouse apartment, it was time for her nightly ritual of diving into web novels.

Despite being the secret, illegitimate child of the mayor, one might assume she led a sorrowful life. But that couldn't be further from the truth. The other half of her DNA, her father, financed her luxurious life in exchange for her silence. 

Her mother, a small-town dreamer who ventured into the city with aspirations of becoming a singer, only to fall victim to a rich man's deceit, leaving her pregnant and heartbroken. It was a tale all too common.

Her mother's dreams shattered, she took on minimum wage jobs to provide for both herself and the unborn child. Life was simple, yet content for Lucina. That is, until tragedy struck at the tender age of 15. The cruel diagnosis of lung cancer left her mother without hope, unable to afford treatment. With no fighting chance, her mother's final act was to leave Lucina a letter.

Morning came, and her mother was gone, leaving Lucina alone in the world with only memories and that poignant letter.

The small savings my mother had scraped together were all spent on her funeral arrangements. As people filed in to offer their condolences, I couldn't help but overhear their whispered speculations about my future. "A foster home," someone guessed. "Maybe an orphanage," another suggested. And then there were those who wondered if my absentee father would suddenly appear.

Feeling suffocated by the weight of it all, I slipped outside the funeral home, seeking solace under the starless sky that mirrored the emptiness I felt inside. It was then that I reached for the letter my mother had left me.

And there, in her words, was the revelation that Mayor John Brown was my father.

Well, damn.

*

Walking into the grand building with my worn-out shoes and faded jeans, I made my way to the receptionist's desk. "Excuse me, may I see Mayor Brown?" I asked, trying to maintain a semblance of confidence despite the receptionist's contemptuous gaze.

"Not just anyone can meet the mayor, you know," she retorted, her tight blonde ponytail matching her tightly wound demeanor. I couldn't help but wonder how she managed to breathe in that constricting black dress.

Feigning confidence, I persisted, "Inform him that I'm Zira's daughter, will you please?" With an audible sigh of annoyance, she reluctantly made the call, probably expecting me to be turned away. To her surprise, I was let in, she gestured for me to follow her.

"Let's go, I'll guide you to the office," she said, her brisk pace in those seemingly uncomfortable shoes leaving me struggling to keep up. In the elevator, as she impatiently tapped her leg, I couldn't help but wonder what she saw in our reflections. A scrawny 15-year-old with unruly hair, practically homeless-looking—I must have been a far cry from the usual visitors the mayor received.

Ding! The elevator doors opened, revealing a world of suits, expensive perfumes, and luxury beyond my imagination. I was asked to wait as the receptionist spoke to the secretary outside the large office doors. Eventually, I was led inside and the door clicked softly shut behind me, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Take a seat," the man behind the desk ordered. I could see why my mother had been captivated by him, with his sharp jawline and blonde hair, even the gray streaks adding to his charm. She always said my eyes came from my father, and as I met his gray, emotionless gaze, I could see the resemblance.

"You're Zira's daughter? I certainly see it," he remarked, leaning back in his chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure of Zira sending her offspring to see me?" I shifted uncomfortably, gathering my courage to speak.

"My mother is dead, and you're my father. So here I am," I blurted out, the weight of the revelation heavy in the air. His surprise was subtle, but the silence that followed seemed to stretch on forever.

"What do you want from me?" he finally asked, his tone cold and business-like. I glanced away, my eyes falling on the picture frame on his desk—a picture-perfect family, his wife, four sons, and two daughters smiling happily. There was no place for me there.

"Mr. Brown, I understand this is as much news to you as it is to me. I was unaware of your existence until my mother revealed it on her deathbed. I want a deal," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Money? Of course, you do. What else?" he replied, his gaze icy. I couldn't help but wonder how my mother had ever fallen in love with this man.

"I want a deal. Yes, it involves money, but with my mother gone, I'll be left to the mercy of foster care, an orphanage, or worse—thrown out onto the streets. You wouldn't want the world to know about my existence, would you? Because I can assure you, Mr. Brown, tomorrow's headlines would scream 'City's mayor's illegitimate child left to fend for herself,'" I stated firmly, knowing I had him cornered.

"The world of politics depends on reputation, you know. If anything were to happen to me, Mr. Walker's team would uncover the truth about my origin, how I exist despite you being married with three kids back then. And we both know Mr. Walker would use that against you, especially with his big school being your competition," I added, watching as his anger simmered beneath the surface.

"What do you need?" he finally relented, defeated by the weight of my words.

"Well, Father, you surely wouldn't want to be stingy, right?" I replied with a bright smile. Checkmate.

*

The memory of that fateful day always brings a smile to my face. Acquiring this penthouse from Mr. Brown was a stroke of genius, a triumph for the younger me. As the years passed, rent and housing prices soared, I had it all figured out. Graduating from a prestigious boarding school abroad, I had no inclination to pursue university. Instead, I traveled to fancy places, explored exotic cities and islands, and lived the life I had always dreamed of.

Sinking into the couch, I savored another sip of my hot chocolate and opened my sleek tablet to immerse myself in a web novel. Life was truly good.

But wait, what's that light? It's so bright...

Female lead, said miss me with that give me the money.

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