My Milf System-Chapter 179. Convictions

(Third person POV)

Three Zephandrian men waited near the restrooms. The corridor was dim and narrow, but their eyes gleamed with excitement. Among them stood Max, Clara’s boyfriend and a proud prince of Zephandria. He had the face of nobility but the arrogance of someone who thought the world owed him everything. Max was an A-rank elite—entitled, selfish, and surrounded by two B-rank comrades who shared his crude appetite.

While the tournament roared with excitement just beyond the walls, these men had other games in mind. They weren’t watching the tournament like everyone else. They were here for something more vulgar. More private.

Max had summoned Clara to the restroom, demanding her submission. Bound by reluctant loyalty, she’d agreed, missing the early rounds. On the other side of the wall, rhythmic moans and gasps echoed from one of the stalls. The sound of flesh meeting flesh was loud and shameless. A girl’s voice cried out in a mix of discomfort and submission as Max’s friend thrust inside her, grunting like a beast. His pants were pulled just below his hips as he pounded her from behind.

He laughed between thrusts, "Haha... Damn, she’s tight. You got good taste, man."

The girl whimpered, her hands pressed against the stall door for balance. She tried to suppress her voice, but her body betrayed her. Wet slapping sounds filled the space.

Meanwhile, outside the stalls, the third Zephandrian was trying to convince Lenna, Asher’s mother.

"Come on," he whispered, eyes drifting to her massive breasts that looked tempting from beneath her top. "We both know you want it."

Lenna crossed her arms. Her eyes, sharp as daggers, glared at him with contempt. "And why would I do that?"

He gave her a sheepish grin. "It’s not a big deal... we just gotta fuck, that’s all. Besides, you’ve always begged me to fuck you."

"You think I’m your personal slut, now, don’t you?" Her voice was sharp, and ice-cold.

The guy rubbed the back of his neck. "W-What? No! I wouldn’t think that of you."

"Then why else would you ask me to fuck you in a place like this?" She asked.

The guy sighed. "We just made a bet with the bros. See who can bang the most girls in the toilets today. That’s all."

Lenna’s expression turned deadly. "A bet?"

He blinked, oblivious to the storm brewing in her tone. "Yeah. It’s not that serious."

"You asked me to miss my son’s match... just so you could win a perverted bet?" Her voice trembled, not from sadness, but from rage.

The man hesitated. "I mean... Is that... a big deal?"

Lenna’s eyes darkened.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me."

With a disgusted scoff, she turned away. "Go fuck a rabbit or something. I’m done with you."

Her boots clicked against the tiles as she stormed off, the guy trying to stop her.

"I knew I should’ve dated a man as good looking and strong like my own son," she muttered. "Zephandrian men are all limp dicks in shiny armor. They look good until they open their mouths—and even worse when they take off their pants."

Her lip curled in disgust. "They barely last three minutes, leaving you unsatisfied."

As she approached the arena doors again, her fury simmered. Then her thoughts turned warm... to someone else.

"They’re nothing compared to my Asher. Now he... mmh..."

She bit her lip slightly and smirked.

When she stepped back into the arena, the roar of the crowd slammed into her like a wave. People were shouting, whistling, stomping their feet.

She walked through the crowd to her seat beside Ivy.

"Shit!" Lenna panted. "Did I miss something?"

"You missed a lot," Ivy said, still staring at the arena. "Your son’s match just ended."

Lenna’s face fell. "What?! Did he win?"

"No," Ivy said flatly.

"Damn it!!"

Ivy laughed. "Relax. He won. And without even breaking a sweat."

Lenna exhaled sharply. "Thank the goddess. What about my daughter-in-law?"

"She’s next. She just got her mana restored at the clinic."

"Good," Lenna said, grinning. "Let’s see how she does."

Meanwhile, in the arena...

"AND KIRA TAKES THE WIN!!" the commentator’s voice boomed. "WHAT A FINISH!! HE’S ON FIRE!!"

The crowd exploded with cheers.

Now, all eyes turned to the next two contestants.

Anna walked in confidently, her skirt fluttering with each step. Her robe-like uniform clung to her in all the right ways, and unlike the other contestants, she didn’t hide behind long pants. She wore her match attire with bold defiance—her smooth legs on full display. She tied her hair with a red ribbon, loose strands falling around her face like a warrior maiden from legend.

On the other side, Lorraine Alvado entered like royalty. Her posture was perfect—shoulders back, chin high. The crowd roared even louder.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!" the announcer shouted, "GIVE IT UP FOR LORRAINE ALVADO!! THE PRODIGY OF ELDORIA!! THE UNTOUCHABLE!! THE UNDEFEATED!!"

Fans screamed her name like she was a pop star.

Then, the announcer’s voice shifted to a mocking tone: "AND HERE COMES ANNA REMBRANDT! THE SO-CALLED ’WORST’ OF THE REMBRANDT FAMILY!! WILL SHE LAST MORE THAN TEN SECONDS? OR WILL LORRAINE WIN AGAINST HER BY DEFAULT LIKE THE REST?!"

The crowd began to chant, "LOR-RAINE!! LOR-RAINE!! LOR-RAINE!!"

The referee turned to Anna. "Will you surrender?" he asked over the mic.

Anna didn’t even flinch. "I’m not the type to give up."

"THERE IT IS!!" the commentator shouted. "ANNA WANTS TO FIGHT!! THE REMBRANDT UNDERDOG IS TAKING ON OUR NUMBER ONE!! WHO WILL RISE? WHO WILL FALL?! THIS IS A MATCH YOU WON’T WANT TO MISS!!"

The referee blew his whistle.

"AND... BEGIN!!"

As the crowd screamed louder, Anna stood in place. Her fists clenched. Her eyes closed.

In her mind, all she could hear was Asher’s voice from that night they played Truth or Dare together.

"My type of girl? I guess...strong-willed. Someone who can protect herself. Someone who doesn’t always need to rely on me." He had said.

She smiled softly, musing to herself.

Then I’ll show you that I’m the kind of girl you want. I’ll prove I’m worthy to be your lawfully wedded wife

Meanwhile, Lorraine—ever the perfect student, the prodigy, the role model—knew she couldn’t afford to lose. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. Failure would be a crack in the flawless image she had built. Narrowing her eyes, she studied her opponent with steely focus.

Both girls stood driven by their own convictions, but only one would walk away victorious.

TBC