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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 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
359 Chs

August 18, 2032 | 13 Days Remain | Tension

A tense atmosphere enveloped the breakfast tables the following morning as Denzel approached with his breakfast plate, scanning for his group. Before he could sit down, however, a trio intercepted him.

The leader was a renowned athlete from Immortal Skye named Caleb Wrightwood. With a broad chest, chiseled abs, a neatly tapered haircut, a dazzling smile, blue eyes, and a predisposition for wearing shorts, he epitomized the classic jock.

Beside him stood Madeline, a woman with an oval face and waist-length blonde hair neatly braided to prevent interference during practice. Lacking in popularity and typically dressed in jeans and loose shirts, she contrasted sharply with the athletic Caleb.

The most incongruous of the three was a Hispanic man named Luis Morales. Quiet and unremarkable in appearance, he seemed reluctant to be there.

Under normal circumstances, this unlikely trio would never have formed, but they had an agenda.