Evil MC's NTR Harem

"What about me?" Corey asked, confused.

"You should be careful, man. Cara's the only one left who's still single and actually girlfriend material. She's pretty, sweet, and loyal—everything a guy wants. But you're not the only one who noticed that."

"Who else?" Corey asked, his tone already turning suspicious.

The boy leaned in. "Big D."

The room fell silent for a moment. Everyone knew what that name meant.

Big D was the most physically intimidating guy in the house—tall, ripped, and built like a gladiator.

He didn't talk much, but when he did, people listened.

He had a reputation not just for his strength but for his success with women.

Smooth, confident, and relentless—if Big D wanted something, he usually got it.

Corey's jaw tightened. "Let him try. I'll make him eat his own damn teeth."

A few of the guys exchanged uneasy glances.

"Slow down, big guy," one of them said cautiously.

"You're good-looking, and no doubt Cara likes you. But Big D's on a whole different level. That dude's arms are the size of our legs. He's tall, strong, and scary as hell when he wants to be. And you know the rules—no fighting in the house. You lay a finger on him, and you'll be out before you can even explain yourself."

Corey didn't respond right away. His hands were clenched into fists on the table.

"Look," the guy continued, trying to reason with him, "I get it. Cara's amazing, and I respect that you're trying to protect her. But if you really care about her, you have to be smart. Be present. Be with her every moment you can. Don't give Big D an opening. Because if he sees even the smallest crack, he'll slide right in and start working his magic."

The others nodded in agreement.

"Big D's not just muscle," another added. "He's a damn charmer when he wants to be. He doesn't rush. He's patient, calculated. He'll compliment her, listen to her, make her laugh. Before she even realizes it, she'll be flattered. Then she'll be tempted. And after that… well, we all know how that ends."

Corey exhaled slowly, the fire in his eyes still burning.

"He won't touch her," he said firmly. "I won't let him."

The table went quiet again, but this time, it wasn't from tension—it was from respect.

Everyone knew Corey wasn't just talking big. He was serious.

And while they still doubted his chances in a physical confrontation, none of them doubted his feelings for Cara.

Whether it would be enough, though—that remained to be seen.

***

Lunch came and went, the dining area now littered with empty plates and half-finished drinks.

Laughter and light conversations echoed through the halls, the usual buzz of a lazy afternoon settling in.

But at exactly 1 o'clock, everything changed.

The lights in the common room dimmed slightly, and a familiar chime rang from the speakers embedded in the ceiling.

A moment later, the booming voice of the House Boss filled the air with his usual flair.

"Congratulations, house contestants! One of you has officially left my house, and today, only seventeen of you remain. You've all come far—but the road ahead gets even harder. May you continue to reveal your true selves, and compete with everything you have to become the ultimate winner of the House of Fortune. Your weekly task begins… now."

A beat of silence followed, then the massive TV screen mounted on the wall flickered to life. The contestants turned toward it, some still chewing, others setting down their drinks. Anticipation buzzed through the room.

The task appeared in large, bold white letters on the screen.

WEEKLY TASK:

CREATE A MOVIE.

All housemates must participate as cast members.

The genre is your choice.

Your final product will be judged by a guest director brought in by the House Boss.

You have 1 week. Good luck.

The room went silent as the full meaning of the task sank in. Then came the reaction.

"Fuck!" someone blurted out from the back.

"You've got to be kidding me," groaned another. "A whole damn movie?"

The group exploded into mixed reactions—some shocked, some amused, and a few clearly panicked.

"We're not filmmakers! This isn't what we signed up for!"

"I can barely talk in front of a camera, let alone act in a movie!"

"Wait, we're being judged by a real director?" a girl asked, her eyes widening. "Like, someone from the actual industry?"

"That's what it says," another replied, scrolling back over the screen. "Guest director. Probably someone big if the House Boss is bringing them in."

Corey stood near the back, arms crossed, watching quietly.

He could already see how the mood in the room was shifting.

This was more than just a weekly challenge—this was a pressure test. For some, it was an opportunity.

For others, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

Grumbling continued all around.

"I didn't sign up for this," one of the guys muttered. "I'm not a good actor. I'm gonna look stupid."

"Oh, please," another snapped. "Don't lie to yourself. We all came into this house to be rich and famous. Acting is one of the easiest routes to stardom after this show. You better get used to putting on a performance."

"That's easy for you to say," a shy girl near the corner replied. "You're used to being in front of the camera. Some of us freeze up the second there's a spotlight."

Meanwhile, a few of the more confident contestants were already excited.

"This is it!" Someone said, the tall, flamboyant drama club kid from New York. "This is the kind of thing I've been waiting for! We get to write, act, direct—this could be huge if we do it right!"

"You just want a leading role," someone teased.

"Of course I do," the man grinned. "But more than that, I want us to make something that actually works. If we impress the director, this could open doors."

"And if we fail?" another contestant asked dryly.

Seth shrugged. "Then at least we fail with style."