The Primarch of Liberty - Chapter 9: Compliance

[*Ding*

[Slow Burn]

Died as a virgin. Reincarnated with a big rod.

Ding!

[You have acquired the Bad Luck system. The God of death sympathized with you for dying pathetically. You have been gifted with a divine rod. Your meat rod is the tool you would use to rise to the top. Grow faster and stronger to conquer all the beauties and face the tribulations of the world]

“Eh, where am I? What! A Bad Luck system!” Trying to comprehend what had just occurred as strange characters appeared in his view. Vincent tried to talk and move his body but he realized that he was In the body of a baby.

Vincent Oswald, a popular hentai writer and tentacles creator died as a virgin in a tragic accident and reincarnated into another world.

A dog-eat-dog world, a world of cruelness, a world where you could have your head rolling for a plate of meat soup.

Let's see how Vincent survives in this cruel world and strives for the top as a boy that was born with a silver spoon.

Elves + Demons + Vampires + Yandere + Op characters and so many fantasizing things.

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Note: No NTR towards Mc.

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The MC acts naive and annoying in the early 30s chapters. After that, I can guarantee you a lustful, action-packed piece of work...

He is a ger who came from feudal times. His greatest wish is to have a piece of land that belongs to him, marry a hard-working man and have a lovely baby. Live a simple and warm life.

He is a major general of the Federation, cold, ruthless, frightening, aloof. It’s the label given by everyone who knows him.

However, the failure of a mission made the strong and cold him encounters the delicate and gentle him. People of two extreme personalities unexpectedly get along harmoniously.

The world says,

The reason why he is cold is that he gave all his tenderness to his little husband.

Only when his little husband is around him can he become approachable.

- Description from Novelupdates

In a world of shallow-minded, materialistic mortals, what would one from humble beginnings – whose face had been stomped on, spat on, oppressed for the longest while by the arrogant, pampered upper echelons of society – do, when a mysterious application pops up on a brand new phone that was meant to be the birthday gift of an ungrateful girlfriend? What if the application takes the form of a chatroom where its occupants, bearing the names of mythical, fictional beings, start giving out ‘Red Packets’, all the while spouting nonsense?