I stood in front of the Lust Trial Pagoda, balls already aching.
It wasn't even noon yet, and I was fighting for my life.
The pagoda towered above the city outskirts, five stories high, glowing with pink and gold spiritual light. A thick, perfumed haze surrounded it, and every breeze carried the sound of moans — real or illusion, I couldn't tell. Probably both.
"Once you enter," Lan'er warned again, "you must not release a single drop of yang essence for twenty-four hours. If you fail… the pagoda will drain your soul and leave you a dried-out husk."
I shifted uncomfortably. "That's… harsh."
"You're trying to claim the First Volume of the Pleasure Sutra. The pagoda tests your self-control. Only those who've begun to master their goonbrain can survive."
Yeah, well. Mastering my goonbrain was like trying to teach a monkey how to file taxes.
Still, I had to do it.
Power was inside that tower.
And if I didn't level up fast, I was going to end up like one of those sad guys in hentai who die from nutting too hard. Or worse—turned into a mindless sex puppet, used by stronger cultivators as a source of free Yang Qi.
No thanks.
I took a deep breath and stepped past the gates.
Instantly, the world shifted.
The air grew thick with musk and moans. Velvet walls shimmered around me, pulsing with sensual energy. Every inch of the room seemed alive — like it was breathing, watching me, waiting for me to touch something I shouldn't.
[Lust Trial: Begin.]
[Objective: Last 24 hours without releasing.]
[Progress: 0:00 / 24:00]
Easy.
I took another step.
The first floor looked like a brothel. Or a really upscale OnlyFans shoot. Pillowed floors. Silk curtains. Warm candlelight. Dozens of beauties lounged on the furniture — each more tempting than the last.
A red-haired fox-girl crawled toward me. "Come play, young master," she purred. Her outfit was one small tug away from total disaster.
Behind her, a tanned warrior babe with abs and thighs you could die between cracked her knuckles. "Just one round," she said. "You'll feel better."
My dick twitched. My body screamed YES.
My soul screamed DON'T YOU DARE.
I closed my eyes and started chanting in my head.
> No nut.
No nut.
No nut.
You're better than this.
You're a cultivator now.
Don't fold. Don't stroke. Don't simp.
I sat down cross-legged, hands clenched into fists.
The fox-girl straddled my lap. The abs girl licked her lips.
I didn't move.
[1st hour passed.]
Good. I was sweating bullets. But I hadn't busted.
Yet.
---
The second hour was worse.
They started whispering.
Filthy things. Soft voices in my ear. Talking about things I'd only read in the darkest parts of the doujin archives. They knew my tastes. My weaknesses. Somehow, the pagoda was reading my mind and throwing every single degeneracy I'd ever imagined straight at my face.
A pair of bunny twins kissed each other in front of me, moaning my name. A curvy teacher-type read from a lewd cultivation manual, slowly unbuttoning her robes with every paragraph.
One of them looked exactly like my high school crush.
I bit my tongue hard enough to bleed.
"Keep it together…" I muttered. "You fold now, you die."
[3rd hour passed.]
---
By the fifth hour, I was gooning mentally.
Not physically. My hands stayed locked at my sides. But my brain?
My brain was on fire.
Everything pulsed. Everything throbbed. Every second felt like my entire existence had been reduced to one single question:
> To nut, or not to nut?
I thought I saw God.
And He had tits.
---
[8th hour passed.]
A wave of spiritual heat crashed over me. I felt a sudden jolt in my dantian.
[Warning: Yang Essence overflow approaching critical limit.]
Lan'er was right. My new body didn't just get horny — it stockpiled Qi in my balls like nuclear reactors. I was overloaded. If I didn't vent, I'd explode. But if I did… I'd fail the trial.
The girls sensed it.
They swarmed me. Panting. Teasing. Writhing.
One pressed her face into my crotch. "Just a little, Master," she whispered. "We'll help you finish gently."
I screamed internally.
I could see the headlines in my mind:
> "Man Dies Nutting to Illusion."
"Young Cultivator Joins List of Pathetic Goon Casualties."
"Local Degenerate Found Empty, Drained, and Smiling."
No. I wasn't going out like that.
Not me.
I did the only thing I could.
I started meditating.
Not spiritual meditation. Not the clean, monk-like kind. I mean pure, depraved, edge-mastery mental training. Goon discipline I'd refined through years of being terminally online.
I imagined ugly things.
Cold showers.
Old men fighting over canned beans.
Discord mods breathing heavily.
A raw chicken being slapped in slow motion.
My erection died a little.
But I survived.
[10th hour passed.]
---
By the 13th hour, I wasn't human anymore.
I was a beast. A horny beast chained by sheer willpower. I had full-body cramps from resisting. My hands trembled. I was crying. Possibly lactating.
But I was still dry.
I was gonna make it.
Only 11 hours left.
Suddenly, the room darkened.
A woman descended from the ceiling, floating on a cloud of pink mist. Her eyes glowed. Her voice echoed like a melody made from moans.
"I am the Keeper of the First Volume," she said.
She was naked. Dripping. Perfect.
"You've resisted well. But now comes the real test."
The walls fell away. The girls vanished.
It was just me and her now.
And her spiritual pressure was immense.
She walked toward me slowly, hips swaying.
"You must now withstand my Heavenly Stroke Technique," she whispered.
I swallowed.
Hard.
This was it.
The final boss.
If I passed this… I'd earn the first real cultivation manual of my path.
If I failed… I'd nut so hard my soul would leave my body.
I got into position.
Legs crossed.
Mind blank.
Hands clenched.
She smiled.
And then… she touched me.
[Trial Final Phase: Begin.]