Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs-Chapter 26: Mission Accomplished

As I lay there holding her, my mind started processing what had just happened. My first time. Not just sex, but sex with Madison Torres—the girl every guy at Lincoln High fantasized about, the girl who had just declared multiple times that I was her man now.

Maybe if I’d announced my equipment situation earlier, it could’ve happened sooner. All those years of hiding what I was working with...

But then again, maybe the system’s last enhancement on my face and my body was necessary. Maybe regular Peter Carter’s weak stats couldn’t have handled Madison Torres. Maybe I needed to level up first.

I had a girlfriend now. A rich, hot girlfriend who had just spent hours proving that she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

The thought was surreal. That morning I had been the school’s favorite punching bag. That night I lay in a trust fund princess’s bed after the best sex that probably ever happened in the history of Lincoln High.

From virgin nerd to Madison Torres’s official boyfriend in one day. That had to be some kind of record. freeweɓnøvel~com

Her breathing had shifted into the deep, steady rhythm of sleep, and somehow that made it impossible for me to move. She looked completely peaceful, all her usual confidence and edge softened by exhaustion and satisfaction.

She was beautiful when she slept. Less like an untouchable goddess and more like just... mine.

My eyes grew heavier despite my best efforts to stay awake and process the massive shift in my entire existence. The combination of physical exhaustion and the warm weight of Madison against my chest was like the world’s most effective sleeping pill.

I should’ve figured out what came next, but right then I just wanted to hold her and pretend the moment could last forever.

Sleep was just starting to claim me when suddenly, my vision filled with system text that made my heart jump into my throat.

Mission. Fucking. Accomplished.

[DING! Mission Complete: Seduce a Girl — SUCCESSFUL][Rewards Granted: 100 SP | Enhanced Charisma +2 | Enhanced Physique +2][SPECIAL ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: First Time with High‑Value Target]

[GOLDEN FINGER UNLOCKED: Dark Lord Mode Available.]

[INITIATING...][WARNING: Dark Lord Mode transformation requires private, secure location][COUNTDOWN INITIATED: 60 seconds]

What the actual fuck? A glowing interface pulsed in front of my eyes—iridescent, undeniable—painting Madison’s room in eerie, shifting light. A timer had started ticking down like a digital guillotine.

59 ... 58 ... 57...

My pulse jackhammered. Silk sheets tangled around my legs as I jolted upright. Madison — warm, flushed, blissfully asleep under a tumble of dark hair — lay inches away. The system’s words private, secure location ricocheted in my skull.

Thirty seconds ago, I was the luckiest guy on Earth. Now I was a lab rat on a ticking bomb.

56 ... 55 ... 54...

Bathroom. En‑suite. Lock on the door. Only place in this palace that even remotely qualified.

I eased out of bed, every muscle buzzing with adrenaline. Madison murmured a sleepy protest, hand searching the empty space I left behind, but I slipped free, heart hammering like a war drum.

Sorry, Princess. System shit.

Bare feet sank into plush carpet as I crossed the room. My fingers closed around the bathroom door handle, slipped inside, twisted the heavy lock with a quiet click.

48 ... 47 ... 46...

The bathroom was borderline obscene—floor‑to‑ceiling marble, rainfall shower the size of a phone booth, a tub big enough to host a pool party—but I barely saw any of it. A low hum had begun in my chest, a tremor of warmth that pulsed like a second heartbeat.

Rich‑girl spa later. Survival now.

40 ... 39 ... 38...

The warmth flared, blossoming into a heat that pushed sweat from my pores. Goosebumps raced across my arms even as my core burned like molten metal. Breath came short, ragged. Panic spiked: This better not kill me right after the best night of my life.

30 ... 29 ... 28...

The heat escalated—no, mutated. It crawled along nerves, ignited joints. My bones ached, bowing under invisible thumbscrews. I gripped the vanity, marble edge biting into my palms. Something inside me was winding up, like a mechanical god loading a spring.

20 ... 19 ... 18...

Pain hit—a sharp, twisting wedge driven into marrow. It rolled outward, a tidal surge of agony that stole my breath. My reflection blurred; eyes wide, skin sheened with sweat that already evaporated in waves of heat.

What the fuck did I click yes on?

10 ... 9 ... 8...

The agony doubled—tripled—like steel spikes punching through sinew. My knees buckled; I crashed to the ice‑cold floor. Marble slapped my cheek, shocking my senses even as pain howled louder.

I’m going to die in Madison Torres’s bathroom. Legendary.

5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1...

[DARK LORD MODE ACTIVATION: COMMENCING]

The pain detonated. It wasn’t heat anymore; it was a supernova ripping me apart from the nucleus outwards. My body convulsed, spine bowing off the tiles. A strangled scream clawed up but died in my throat, teeth clamped so hard I tasted iron.

Time fractured. Every millisecond stretched into an epoch of torment.

Outside perspective — medically impossible: I convulsed like a marionette caught in a power line. Bones cracked audibly, stretching, reforming. Muscle fibers tore and rewove themselves thicker, denser, stronger. Black, viscous shadows oozed from every pore—liquid night pooling, then soaking back into flesh, stripping impurity as it vanished.

Facial structure shifted under skin; jaw sharpening, cheekbones carving higher. Height increased in lurching bursts—vertebrae elongating with piston‑like pops. Shoulders broadened, chest expanding as if an unseen blacksmith hammered armor beneath my skin. Even my hair darkened and thickened, falling in sleek, heavy strands.

Every change was agony distilled to its purest form.

From an outside perspective, what happens next would be classified as medically impossible.

Peter Carter’s body convulses on the bathroom floor as something fundamental begins to change at the cellular level. His bones stretch and reshape themselves with audible cracks that echo off the marble walls. His muscles expand and redefine, growing denser and more defined with each spasm.

Black substance begins to seep from his pores—thick, viscous liquid that looks like liquid shadow. It covers his skin completely before being absorbed back into his body, taking impurities and weaknesses with it.

His face restructures itself subtly but significantly—jawline becoming more defined, cheekbones more prominent, features sharpening into something that transcends merely handsome and approaches genuinely intimidating in its perfection.

His height increases by several inches, his frame broadening to accommodate new muscle mass that seems to appear from nowhere. Even his hair becomes thicker, darker, with a natural texture that suggests expensive styling.

The transformation is violent, painful, and absolutely thorough.

Beyond the bathroom door, Madison stirred feeling his absence. She blinked into the soft shadows of her bedroom; brows furrowed in sleepy confusion.

"Peter...?"

No answer.

She sat upright, dragging a sheet over her chest, still flushed from the night’s euphoria. Silence pressed against her ears—then came the thud.

Heavy. Jarring. Like dead weight hitting tile.

Then another. Louder.

Her breath hitched.

"Peter?" she called again, voice high with new tension. She stood, crossed the room barefoot, and tried the bathroom door. Locked.

The silence on the other side was unbearable.

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