Monster Harem In The Tower
Chapter 183: Re-Mix: Feeling Hood

Chapter 183: Re-Mix: Feeling Hood

Far from the lewd tension between Nathan and his Milky Mommy,

the late morning sunlight warmed the backyard of that modest little house.

The sky wore a milky blue, and the overly enthusiastic chirping of birds made Lily frown.

"I hate that bird," she muttered, swinging her small legs while sitting on the wooden bench.

Sophia let out a soft chuckle, her hunter hoodie faded at the elbows. "That bird sings every morning. Maybe it likes you."

"Gross. All birds are evil."

"Including Nathan?"

Lily scowled. "Nathan’s not a bird. But he’s annoying too."

They both burst into laughter. A light, pointless laugh— born from the kind of stupid familiarity that feels like home.

Emilly walked over, carrying two glasses of orange juice. "You two gossiping about your him again, huh?"

Sophia sat up straight in a panic. "No, Auntie! Just... he’s really clumsy, that’s all. Last time at the market, he dropped a watermelon and it exploded!"

Lily nodded solemnly. "And he said it was performance art."

Another round of laughter. But this one faded quicker than the last, melting into a strange kind of smile—the kind that doesn’t know what to do with itself.

Emilly sat down on the plastic chair beside them, quiet for a moment. Her eyes drifted to her phone.

There, still saved, was a single call log.

Inactive since that day—

A call from the Tower.

From her son. From Nathan.

"He is clumsy..." Emilly whispered softly. "But he always comes home. Even if in the weirdest ways."

Sophia looked down.

Lily blinked, slowly.

The sky remained blue.

Their teasing—Sophia and Lily’s little jabs— was never meant to belittle Nathan.

They missed him.

That’s just how they stayed calm.

By remembering the clumsy Nathan, they could pretend he was still around.

On the other side of the Tower, David walked alone through a stone corridor that, oddly enough, smelled like stale wine.

His old armor had dulled, but his grip on the sword hilt remained firm.

"I need to focus..." he muttered.

His steps were steady, but his thoughts were a mess.

Fiona’s image kept resurfacing—

Her laugh.

Her hair.

Even the way she mispronounced retribution as retrobution.

Ridiculous. But sweet.

"Ulrich said I have to keep climbing. Get stronger. Become a real man."

David stopped.

"If being a real man means forgetting everything you like... then why does that sound so damn stupid?"

He looked up, staring at the fake sky above the Tower.

"Damn it. Why does Ulrich’s face just piss me off now?"

He slumped down onto a large rock, hunched forward, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Back then, all the training, all the lessons, all of Ulrich’s harshness—

They were the reason he survived.

But now?

He just wanted...

To walk.

With Fiona.

Hold her hand.

Buy some fried tofu, if there happened to be any.

"Is it wrong to want that?"

The sky said nothing.

The Tower remained silent.

David let out a long sigh.

"Damn... I didn’t even call him ’Sir’ just now..."

His masculine pride felt scrambled.

As if just by having a woman near his heart, all the respect he once had for Ulrich had been instantly converted—

Corrupted—

Like a broken file in his brain.

On a higher floor, two silhouettes stood atop dark stone, facing a vast chasm.

Domina. Livia.

No twitching rabbits.

No teasing bodies writhing with delight.

Only sharp seriousness—

Eyes like two generals before battle.

And yet, as always, their caramel breasts still shimmered seductively, no longer hidden beneath Nathan’s gifted hoodies.

They now sat casually, clothed in nothing but two thin veils—one above, one below.

"I know this isn’t Rabielm," Domina said calmly.

"This is Earth," Livia replied. "But a sealed version of it. A human dimension. This Tower... is it a defense system? Or a trap?"

Domina looked down at her hand. "Humans, huh? It doesn’t feel like they could’ve won the war... It’s too absurd. Even the males we met— weak. No presence."

Livia smirked. "You mean Nathan?"

"He could barely handle fighting a Mindless monster with us back then."

Silence fell.

Then—

Their faces flushed red.

Suddenly.

Because that memory hit them.

The absurd memory.

The absurd shaft.

Validia’s screams from afar. Velmora’s jealous hisses. And Nathan’s voice— half alive, fully panicked.

"He is... weak," Domina whispered.

Domina’s thighs pressed together, not by choice, but instinct. The memory came rushing in— his shaft, slippery from Sapoa sap, twitching in her soapy hand. She had laughed like a demon that day, teasing him about its shape—calling it a "sleeping mushroom trying to punch." But now? She could remember the exact texture of the head. Smooth, stubborn, swollen. Her fingers had gripped it like a sacred joystick, milking it slowly while he gasped through the steam. Just remembering made her nipples perk and breath hitch. "Ugh... why is it so vivid," she muttered, biting her lip in heat and shame.

"But we’ve given far too much devotion to his filthy piece of flesh," Livia murmured.

Livia’s cheeks flushed deeper. Her lips tingled, remembering the one kiss she never told anyone about. Nathan had pulled her close— accidentally bold— and kissed her like he was drowning. But what broke her wasn’t the kiss. It was when he gripped both her rabbit ears mid-smooch and tugged, as if pulling her soul out. Her legs had buckled. Her breath collapsed. For a moment, she had forgotten she was a warrior. All she remembered was the jolt that hit her womb like a misfired spell. "He didn’t even know what he was doing," she whispered. "That’s what made it worse..."

They glanced at each other.

Then let out a soft laugh.

A quiet laugh.

Because even if everything was funny—

Their world had truly changed.

Domina blushed deeper, especially remembering how she once gleefully peed on Nathan.

Her caramel face turned scarlet.

She covered her face with both hands, her rabbit ears twitching like broken antennae.

"Ahhh why did I even do thaaaat..." she muttered, cringing in pure embarrassment.

And amidst everything that was happening— _{fr.e ewe.bno.vel .com}

among wild thoughts, memories, and hidden loneliness—

Nathan leaned in.

Slowly.

Toward that absurd altar called Lilith.

He didn’t take off his clothes.

He didn’t say a word.

He just... inched closer, like a deer approaching its first sip of water after a long drought.

Nathan didn’t understand why his breath grew shallow. His pants weren’t tight, but his flesh pressed against them like a child trapped in the wrong seat. Not raging—just begging. As if every cell of his lower body had agreed: "Yes. That’s home. That’s the holy land." He hated how honest his arousal felt. It wasn’t lust—it was nostalgia. Like his body had seen this altar before, in a dream too forbidden to remember

Lilith remained still. But her eyes widened.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t breathe. She simply watched as the boy approached her like a pilgrim reaching the tip of a cliff. The warmth between her thighs pulsed—not from need, but from legacy. She wasn’t offering pleasure. She was offering truth in its most indecent form. If he touched her now... he wouldn’t just be a man. He’d be the first one to call her sacred and mean it through tongue.

Inside them wasn’t just lust.

There was acknowledgment. There was blessing.

But also, a test.

And Nathan knew this was a strange moment—

one that shouldn’t exist.

He was just a random ex-corporate slave, nothing special.

But the days of questioning whether he was special or not—those were over.

Now, Nathan had fully embraced the randomness of the world.

There were no more questions.

Only a wide grin as he gazed upon that exquisite cut of flesh, glistening with warm liquid.

He smiled.

Beneath the fabric, his shaft twitched like a soldier hearing the national anthem. Not proud—just alert. It didn’t seek conquest. It wanted enrollment. If it had a voice, it would’ve said: "Ma’am, permission to worship." And somewhere in the Tower’s dataflow, the system shuddered—unable to classify this act as a threat, or devotion.

Lilith bit her lip, feeling Nathan’s breath greet the smooth, grassless wetland—

"Eeumhhh...." her black lips let fantastic sound echoed.

His breath was clumsy—warm, trembling, slightly minty from the Unter toothpaste. But it hit her with the force of a thousand unresolved kinks. Lilith’s inner thighs twitched involuntarily. Not because she was weak, but because that breath reminded her she was no longer a symbol. She was a body again. A body that wanted to be defiled not with violence, but with awe.

Morvessa, still lying nearby. Barely conscious, twitched. Not from pain, but from resonance. A pulse between her legs echoed—weak, yet familiar. Her eyes fluttered open for a second, just enough to see Nathan’s head lowering. She wanted to speak. Warn him. Or thank him. But her lips only parted in a whisper that sounded more like a moan borrowed from her own climax.

And as his lips finally kissed the altar... "Hmmcchh..."