[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-evil-mc-s-ntr-harem":3,"chapter-evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-chapter-1141":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Evil MC's NTR Harem",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1832602,2438,"Chapter 1142 Cabin","evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-chapter-1141",1141,"\u003Cp>When the man tried to crawl, the undead stomped on his thigh, shattering bone through flesh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His howl echoed through the stone chamber.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!\" someone begged, dropping to his knees, hands raised.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The undead warrior’s response was a calm, mechanical punch to the face—one that turned the man’s features into a ruin of blood and broken bone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air filled with screams—high, panicked, agonized.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The scent of blood, spilled organs, and burnt flesh thickened until breathing became difficult.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wilson’s men weren’t fighting anymore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were just trying to survive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Trying to crawl away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Trying to hide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Trying to escape the nightmare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But there was no escape.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every punch carried the weight of a hammer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every blow ensured a slow, agonizing death rather than a merciful one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And through the chaos—through the screams, the cracking bones, the begging, the dying—Ross sat comfortably on his throne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One leg crossed over the other.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chin resting lazily in his hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A small, satisfied smile playing at his lips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To him, this wasn’t a battle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was entertainment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A spectacle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A well-deserved punishment unfolding exactly the way he wanted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Wilson’s army—once so confident, once so proud—was being torn apart one agonizing scream at a time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This is bad... this is really, really bad...\" Wilson thought, his heart pounding like a war drum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His legs trembled despite himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not from exhaustion—but from the suffocating pressure of despair crushing him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He glanced at Ross’s army again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those demon-masked monsters tearing through his people like beasts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unaffected by bullets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unaffected by abilities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unaffected by anything human.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then his eyes lifted to Ross—the man he had sworn he killed once—now sitting casually on a throne, one leg resting lazily over the other, watching the massacre as if he were enjoying a private theater performance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross didn’t even flinch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Didn’t even acknowledge Wilson.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not as an opponent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not even as a threat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It made Wilson’s blood boil.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he died here, fine—but he would damn well try to take Ross with him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He clenched his teeth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He made his decision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wilson roared with everything he had and lunged forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The knives orbiting around him spun faster, becoming a swirling, deadly storm of steel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They slashed and carved through the undead soldiers trying to bar his path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For the first time, he forced a gap into the battlefield, pushing himself deeper into the chaos.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air rang with the sharp whistling of blades.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Undead bodies were cut apart—arms sliced off, torsos split open.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wilson was unstoppable for a single glorious moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could see Ross’s throne clearer and clearer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was getting close.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Too close.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Just a little more... just a little more...!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A shadow fell over him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A massive, towering shadow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brandon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The commander of the undead stepped directly into Wilson’s path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His crimson-striped demon mask stared down at him with a cold, inhuman stillness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even standing still, he radiated an overwhelming sense of doom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wilson skidded to a stop, eyes widening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You dream far too high, boy, if you think you can approach my master,\" Brandon thundered. His voice rolled through the chamber like a landslide—deep, resonant, and final.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Brandon moved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One moment he was standing there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next—he was everywhere at once.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"W–what?!\" Wilson gasped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brandon’s speed was monstrous. His movement blurred, his figure vanishing like a phantom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wilson tried to track him—his eyes darting desperately, knives spinning in every direction to guard himself—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he couldn’t see him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Couldn’t feel him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Couldn’t predict anything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A cold presence appeared behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wilson’s blood ran cold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A massive hand closed around his throat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Guh—! H...HAAAK!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was lifted off the ground instantly, feet kicking helplessly in the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brandon’s grip tightened, crushing his windpipe inch by inch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wilson clawed at the hand, fingers slipping uselessly on the iron-like grip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Spots danced in his vision as oxygen fled his lungs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could feel his life slipping away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>BOOM.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brandon’s fist struck Wilson’s back with such overwhelming force that his entire body spasmed violently.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A horrific sound echoed through the chamber:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>CRRRRRAAAAAACK.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wilson’s spine shattered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not cracked—shattered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Broken into pieces like glass under a hammer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It felt like lightning exploding inside his bones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A white-hot wave of agony tore through him so violently that his consciousness nearly broke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t scream.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t breathe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t even move.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brandon released him—and Wilson’s limp body flew through the air like a broken ragdoll, slamming into the stone floor with a sickening, wet thud.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ghh... ah... ahh...\" Wilson tried to speak, but only blood bubbled past his lips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He lay there twitching, his limbs twisted at unnatural angles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Paralyzed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Crushed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Barely clinging to life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Almost dead...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But painfully, cruelly...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not dead enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brandon slowly stepped toward him, each footfall echoing with purpose—like death coming for its final victim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What followed was not simply death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a methodical, merciless, meticulously orchestrated torture—the kind that only beings without empathy, without hesitation, and without the constraints of mortality could deliver.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross did not need to give another order.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His undead soldiers understood exactly what their master wanted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They moved through the hall like a swarm of predators savoring their prey, spreading out among the survivors of Wilson’s men—those still alive, still screaming, still clinging desperately to the hope that something, anything, might save them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That hope died quickly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air soon filled with a symphony of agony.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"NO—PLEASE, STOP! STOP!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"MY ARM—MY ARM!! AAAAAHHHHH!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The screams came from every direction—high-pitched, deep, broken, raw, and feral.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They blended together until they became a single, horrifying chorus that seemed to shake the walls themselves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sound traveled up to the ceiling, echoing back down like the wails of tormented ghosts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was not the sound of men simply dying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the sound of men being unmade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Undead fists crushed bones with deliberate slowness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hands twisted limbs until joints snapped and tendons tore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some men were dragged across the floor, leaving long streaks of blood, only to be lifted by the skull and slammed repeatedly until their faces were unrecognizable.\u003C\u002Fp>",1011,"2026-06-09T06:19:13.331Z",1,"novelbin.me","4fd7f5342591e9919894fd261c808858f2354cf22722fd49479d4e0b922b92ed","evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-chapter-1142","evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-chapter-1140",1212,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fevil-mc-s-ntr-harem-cover.jpg"]