[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining":3,"chapter-qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-117":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)",{"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},1854955,2462,"Chapter 117: Survive","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-117",117,"\u003Cp>Chapter 117 –\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Daphne POV\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I blink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gunshots explode in the air like thundercracks, so close they might as well be inside the car.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What the fuck?!!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My instincts kick in before the fear does. I duck, heart hammering, as bullets *ping* against the reinforced windows. It’s an armored vehicle, thank god, but I don’t trust it to hold forever—not with this kind of firepower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tires scream. The car swerves violently, throwing me against the side door. My shoulder cracks into the panel, pain blooming instantly, but I scramble low, practically kissing the floor. I fumble around, searching the dark seams of the vehicle until my fingers catch on something cold—metal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A hidden compartment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jackpot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I yank it open and find two handguns, a spare clip, and—sweet mercy—a flash grenade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Someone planned ahead,\" I mutter, my breath hitching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another shot. Then a *boom*. The car jerks sharply. I hear the driver curse—then nothing. A heartbeat later, the whole vehicle flips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gravity rips me sideways.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Glass shatters. Metal groans. My vision turns into a tumble of color and pain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then... silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Distant sirens. Smoke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The world tips. My ears ring. I cough, tasting blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Shit...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I crawl out through a spiderwebbed window, jagged glass biting into my palm as I pull myself free. My knees hit the asphalt with a thud. The smell of oil and burning rubber fills the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The driver’s slumped forward, unmoving. Blood runs down the steering wheel. I don’t even check for a pulse—I know.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Engines. Black cars.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sleek. Silent. Lethal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They slide up like vultures circling meat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I grab the guns I salvaged and roll behind the wrecked chassis, heart pounding like a war drum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They don’t hesitate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I grab the guns I salvaged and roll behind the wrecked chassis, heart pounding like a war drum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They don’t hesitate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shooting starts again, and I return fire, ducking, rolling, aiming like muscle memory’s the only thing keeping me alive. One shot to the knee. One to the chest. One through the windshield.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bodies fall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But more keep coming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’m lucky. So fucking lucky the car flipped near a bridge—an old one, partially under construction. I spot the edge through the smoke, just past the barricades.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My feet burn. That’s when I realize—I’m fucking barefoot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course I am.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sprint across broken asphalt, glass slicing into my soles with every step. Pain flares, but adrenaline drowns it out. The bridge looms closer, half-shrouded in mist and shadow. Behind me, engines rev. Shouts in a language I don’t recognize. Boots on pavement. Bullets whistle past, some so close I swear I feel them kiss my skin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t look back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I just run.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One wrong step and I skid against the railing. The drop is steep—no guarantee of survival. But staying means certain death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So I jump. Into the water, I don’t even know how deep it is, it’s literally a leap of faith.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wind screams past me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For a second, time slows. The night air is sharp, my lungs full of smoke and fear. Then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The water hits like concrete. Ice-cold. Brutal. It knocks the breath out of me, slams into my chest, spins me in the dark. I can’t tell which way is up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My dress or shirt—whatever flimsy thing I’m dressed in—is a net around my limbs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I fight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hands claw at the surface. My lungs burn. My vision sparks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, I break through.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I gasp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sky above is dark, foggy. No stars. No moon. No sign of the gunmen yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I start swimming—toward anything, everything, nothing at all. Just away from the men in black wanting to kill me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Well, the system said it’s a broken world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And guess what?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s a fucking broken world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I march barefoot into the Castellano estate—soaked, shivering, furious. My hair drips, my dress clings, and my feet are raw from glass and gravel. I don’t stop. The servants stare, mouths half-open. None of them dare speak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They shouldn’t. I’m not in the mood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This world has only thebarebonesof a plot:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>1. Mafia world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>2. A male protagonist rises to become Don.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>3. He gets a harem. Three women, minimum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What a joke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I walk through the marble halls like a ghost wearing blood and saltwater. This is theCastellanoSyndicate, and the man in charge—the current Don—is Valentino Castellano.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>According to this body’s memories, I have four siblings: three brothers, one sister. A real mafia family tree, thick with testosterone and secrecy. The kind of family that eats its own before breakfast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the world’s already creaking at the seams.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, Valentino will be assassinated. That’s the catalyst. That’s when the chaos begins.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The protagonist candidates? Yescandidates.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My older brother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My cousin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the bastard son no one talks about until it’s convenient.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Daphne Valentino? Oh she dies or is sold off for the benefit of the family, hell fucking no. Luckily I’m just 17, not time for that. Yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I keep walking, eyes forward, ignoring the scorch of every step. My destination is clear—my father’s office.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I slam the door open with both hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The office is just as dramatic as expected—dark wood, leather, the faint scent of cigar smoke and blood money. And sitting behind the desk, in all his mafia cliché glory:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Valentino Castellano.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you’re imagining a stereotypical Don—slicked-back silver hair, tailored black suit, gold rings heavy on his fingers, expression like he owns the world?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s exactly what he looks like.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He glances up lazily from his glass of whisky, not even fazed by the door nearly flying off its hinges.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"My little cupcake,\" he drawls, lips curling in a smirk, \"what happened to you?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His voice is warm, almost affectionate—like I didn’t just walk in looking like a drowned rat who crawled out of a war zone. Like I’m still a five-year-old in curls and a frilly dress, playing tea party next to a corpse he’d just ordered shot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Misogynistic bastard. Overprotective tyrant. Mafia king. My father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To Daphne, he’s... complicated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He spoils her with diamond necklaces and private jets, but God forbid she gives an opinion on syndicate politics. He calls her \"angel\" with the same mouth that orders a hit on her favorite stylist because \"he looked at you funny.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I raise my chin, let my lip tremble—just enough to sell the part.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I barely survived,\" I say breathlessly. \"I was shot at.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That gets his attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sets his drink down and stands, slowly, as if weighing whether to call a doctor or a cleaner first. His eyes narrow, scanning me from head to toe. The damp clothes. The bruises. The bare feet. The blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His jaw ticks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Who?\" he asks, voice low, dangerous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I blink at him with wide, doe eyes, keeping my tone laced with wounded pride.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I don’t know. Black cars. Military-grade weapons. The driver’s dead. I had to crawl out of the wreck myself.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That part’s not even an exaggeration.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Valentino’s fist clenches, and his voice sharpens into ice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You were targeted. OnCastellanoturf.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He exhales slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Somebody thinks I’m getting soft.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Well... he is.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Give it a year—maybe two—and he’ll be assassinated. A bullet to the back, a blade to the neck, or a cigar that never lights again. And when he goes, he’ll take the stability of one of the biggest criminal organizations in the world down with him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Civil war.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chaos.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And me? I plan to benowhere fucking near it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I can’t do this, Daddy,\" I whisper, voice trembling, soft and sweet like sugared poison. \"I don’t feel safe.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He scowls instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His hand curls around his glass again, tighter. Rage flickers in his eyes—not at me, never at me—but at the world that dared to make me afraid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I want to leave,\" I add, piling on the drama with all the desperation of a spoiled girl who’s had just one too many bad days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His frown deepens.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Don’t worry about it. I’ll have their heads gift-wrapped and brought to you by morning.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just like that.Casual murder, like flowers after a bad date.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’s brushing me off, focused more on retribution than the real threat—the unraveling plot around him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fine. If he won’t listen to logic...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I summon the full force of my acting skills. ’Thank you, Yuxi, my beloved.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I drop to my knees. Crawl over like the tragic heroine of a mob soap opera.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And I sob into his thigh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Just for a while, Daddy,\" I say, voice breaking beautifully. \"I just need to breathe. To feel safe. Please—just a little time away from all this.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My tears soak through his perfectly tailored pants.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The silence stretches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sighs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Fine,\" he mutters, reaching down to stroke my hair like I’m still five and clueless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Just a few days. You’ll take an escort. No arguments.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I light up like he just promised me the moon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Thank you, Daddy! You’re the best!\" I squeal, throwing my arms around him like a grateful little doll.\u003C\u002Fp>",1501,"2026-06-09T07:29:29.584Z",1,"novelbin.me","67669bf6b9d69d0ea4a1122bfed67f2ae498de72ce772a12b9247fccc2f836ec","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-118","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-116",399,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fqt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-cover.jpg"]