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My Mother Has a System but Won't Use It

A person who had been considered trash all his life. A person who had only been cared for by his mother and no one else. A person who didn't have a Spark where everyone else did—a person who couldn't cultivate. That was... Han Li. Yet, on his 18th birthday, everything changed! He was on the roof of his home, frolicking with his mother as usual, when he was gifted something by her—a blank and incomprehensible notebook that she had bought from a scammer. No, it was not blank, not incomprehensible to him; it was as clear as daylight. Others couldn't see the words written there, but he could see them, and he was stunned—the inheritance of the Sacred Demon of Lust. And thus began Han Li's rise. *** Join our Discord: https://discord.gg/d7gNwe9zDw [Warning – Mature Content and Taboo Relationships.] [Explicit R18] What should you expect from this story? A Harem with fleshed-out characters. As for the number of women, the core harem would be under 20, but he would have more women. It is especially a story for the MILF lovers out there. The MC is a decisive and demonic person who knows what he's doing. SO, HE IS NOT A PASSIVE SLOG! Expect no cliché overload. Even if some things seem cliché, they won't be in the long run. There would also be a fun power system to explore. Plot, plot, characters, power system, and nice world building. What else can you ask for? Jump in! Of course, women. Ladies, all with their own characters, personality, and beliefs. Especially lots of love for the Mother! ... (No NTR: MC's women would not be touched by any other man.) (No, Yuri: MC's women won't play with each other.) (No R***: Obviously).

FamishedGod · ตะวันออก
Not enough ratings
252 Chs

Han Li's hate?

Suddenly, Han Li paused once more and entered an alleyway where there was no one, and when they came out of it, there was a person missing from their group. It was Little Ruo. Yue Li had eaten the Life Type Fruit—Kangaroo Space Fruit and put Little Ruo inside, and when they came out, she could easily notice her son's gaze had changed. 

It was now colder. She even felt as if she saw an uncontrollable sense of hate briefly flicker beneath his gaze before he calmly walked forward. She looked at what he was looking at with that hateful gaze, and, just as she wanted to look clearly, she felt her hand being pulled by him and vanished into the crowd.

Yet, she still saw what he had seen, unclear as it was: A destitute man in tattered beggar robes, with a rough grey beard and dirty long hair tousled and falling to his sides. That man was lying against a wall, a bottle of alcohol in his hand, and he appeared extremely dirty.