MTL - Returning after 10000 Years Cultivation - Chapter 16 Old woman

Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am powerful

“It’s finally here,” said the man with the sword in an echoing whisper.

“The Tower of Choice, the last 100 floors!” the band of five exclaimed in unison.

Angelica came down from the altar with a dull look, seemingly annoying.

Then we looked around.

“I tell you once again, but you’ve had a lot of trouble in the meantime. I couldn’t have climbed to the 100th floor alone without you.”

Thud!

One by one, they fall to the floor.

Angelica’s dagger pierced my neck, and I felt a darkening in front of my eyes with a tumultuous rage. My awareness faded, from my senses, from everything else. After that, everything was eroded by profound darkness.

Keita Sumeragi was a man of dreams—once a hopeful mangaka who poured his soul into heartfelt tales of romance, comedy, and friendship. But the world never smiled back. Readers ignored him. Publishers laughed. And when the only offer he got was to draw the one thing he hated—NTR (Netorare)—he refused.Until life left him no choice.His wife walked out. His daughter starved. And when his first NTR manuscript was complete, the publisher gave the job to someone else.Broken, guilty, and hollow, Keita leapt from the rooftop with a bitter smile—Only to awaken in the world of his own rejected NTR manga.In this twisted realm, he’s reborn as the main protagonist—handsome, popular, and surrounded by women with all-too-familiar faces. His sweet and kind “motherly” wife resembles the wife who left him. His seductive stepsister has the same eyes as his daughter once did.In this warped erotic hell, where anyone can be seduced—teachers, aunts, even grandmothers—Keita must face his deepest guilt, his darkest fantasies, and the genre he once despised.Because in this world, NTR is fate.And the story must go on.

When the admissions office of Witch Academy called, I was stunned—I had been accepted into a school I never imagined I could touch.Yes, I am a boy and it is an all-girls’ academy, but they did not mind, so I saw no reason to object. I had applied secretly, without telling my family, just to take a chance.But as soon as those striking seniors greeted us newcomers—pressing every boy against the wall with a knowing smile—I realized things were about to spin out of control.“Oh, come now, you sweet little freshman,” one of them said smoothly, her voice full of mischief. “Don’t make this difficult for me, your big sis. Swallow this core and transform into a witch like me, alright?”She held the glowing orb before us, half-threatening, half-teasing, almost inviting the new boys to react. It was clear she enjoyed it—the blend of fear and resistance in their expressions. Our unease seemed to be her personal amusement.After all, they only had this opportunity once a year.