Evil MC's NTR Harem

The week wrapped up with Ross and Tianna successfully completing the weekly quest, earning enough points to secure their share of the dorm's budget.

Two other pairs had stayed behind with them, contributing to the effort, and together they ensured everyone had enough funds for food, toiletries, and basic necessities.

It was a small but important victory, a sign of teamwork and survival in the chaotic system they now lived under.

But while everyone appreciated the budget, there was no doubt who the true center of attention was.

Ross had become a legend among the boys—not because of his strength or strategic mind, but for the nightly concerts of moans and cries of pleasure that spilled from his room like an erotic lullaby.

Tianna and Heaven were fully, unabashedly loved by him.

Whether he took them separately or together, the result was the same: gasping breaths, bed creaks, skin slapping, and voices rising in ecstasy until even the hallway seemed to blush from the noise.

To outsiders, it sounded like a never-ending music festival—only instead of instruments, it was raw, carnal indulgence that played each night.

The boys joked at first, covering their ears or tossing pillows in mock frustration.

But behind those smiles was a growing sense of envy. Burning, gnawing envy.

They watched Ross with admiration and resentment.

He didn't just win the girls' bodies—he won their hearts, their loyalty, and their screams.

The others tried to mimic his confidence, approaching the girls in their own way, cracking jokes, offering help during chores, even giving awkward compliments they hoped might lead somewhere.

And some progress had been made.

A few love teams had clearly formed—shared glances, lingering touches, subtle flirting that hinted at blooming feelings.

Yet, despite these sparks, none of the other boys had managed to break through the final barrier.

The metaphorical paper remained unpierced.

No one had crossed that invisible but powerful line that turned innocent companionship into raw physical intimacy.

Only Ross had done that. Only Ross had been inside.

The knowledge stung the others like a silent slap.

They tried not to show it, laughed it off in public, but when night came and the symphony of pleasure resumed—when Tianna's cries blended with Heaven's gasps and Ross's low growls—their frustration deepened.

Each moan was a reminder of what they didn't have.

Each creak of the bed was a drumbeat of Ross's dominance.

And every morning, when the girls walked out glowing, smiling, and clearly satisfied, it became harder to ignore the widening gap between Ross and the rest of them.

"Congratulations, house contestants!"

The booming voice of the House Boss echoed through the lounge, carried from the hidden speakers installed in every corner of the House of Fortune.

The contestants, lounging on beanbags and sofas after a long day, looked up in anticipation.

"You have all successfully completed your weekly task," the House Boss continued, his tone bright and energetic.

"For your effort and teamwork, you've earned your full weekly budget!"

Cheers erupted instantly. Applause rang out.

A few contestants jumped up and clapped one another on the back.

After a demanding week filled with physical labor, mental challenges, and emotional drama, the confirmation of their budget felt like a small but much-needed victory.

"Oh my god, we actually did it!"

"Food! Real food!"

"No more splitting toothpaste!"

"Let's goooo!"

Laughter and celebration filled the room, and for a brief moment, it felt like a big family gathering—a collection of strangers who had somehow grown comfortable with each other in the strange, camera-filled house.

But then… the House Boss spoke again.

"However… I have something important to add."

The room fell silent. The celebratory energy drained out in an instant, replaced by stillness.

Some contestants froze mid-laugh.

Others slowly sat down, brows furrowing in anticipation.

They knew that voice—when it shifted in tone, it meant something big was coming.

"Tonight, you all need to be ready…"

A pause.

"Because tonight marks your very first… Nomination Night."

Boom. The words hit like a grenade tossed into the middle of their joy.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Eyes darted around the room. Some jaws dropped.

A few mouths hung open, while others sat stunned, blinking in disbelief.

Even those who had mentally prepared themselves for this moment were still shaken by the reality of it.

"Shit…" someone whispered under their breath.

"It's starting," another murmured, voice tense.

Despite the shock, no one could say they were truly surprised.

Deep down, everyone knew it was only a matter of time.

This wasn't just a game of survival and tasks—it was also a game of strategy, popularity, and social maneuvering.

"We all knew this was coming," said one contestant, trying to keep his voice steady.

He glanced around, offering a shaky smile to the others. "No hard feelings… right?"

"Right," said another contestant, though her eyes didn't meet anyone else's.

"We gotta do what we gotta do," muttered another house contestant, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall.

Still, unease lingered in the air like smoke after an explosion.

The once-lively room now felt colder. Every look became loaded. Every smile, forced.

The laughter was gone, replaced by calculating silence and heavy thoughts.

Who would be nominated?

Who would betray whom?

And most importantly—who would be the first to leave?

Whispers began behind closed doors.

Small groups formed in hallways and kitchens, discussing strategy in hushed tones.

Alliances were born—or broken—in the span of a single hour.

Some contestants paced nervously.

Others retreated to their rooms, lost in their own thoughts, weighing every interaction from the past week.

Had they been too loud? Too quiet? Too strong? Too weak?

The looming vote cast a shadow over everyone.

That night, the House of Fortune was no longer just a shared living space.

It became a battlefield where no one was safe from getting evicted from the house.

A beautiful cage where trust was currency, and betrayal was inevitable.

And the first real move of the game… would be made before midnight.