A handsome man took a deep breath and smiled, a sense of contentment and joy washing over him.
It was good to live again, and he cherished this moment of existence, knowing that he had been given a second chance at life.
He looked down at his body, taking in the sights and sounds around him, and realized that something was different.
"Oh…" he said, his eyes widening as he finally noted that he was naked.
He saw his little brother, his cock, and even in its dormant state, it was ginormous.
He could only imagine how big it would be when aroused, and a mix of pride and concern washed over him.
It would probably break any pussy ever created in the world, he thought to himself, a smirk playing on his lips.
"I've become perfect. A gigachad," the handsome man chuckled in joy, his voice filled with amusement and disbelief.
He did not believe that fortune came after tragedy; instead, he saw this as a long-overdue reward for all the hard work and dedication he had put into his past life.
Although he had been rich in his previous existence, his physical attributes had sucked big time.
Now, he was a 7-foot-tall, muscular, perfect man with a badass attractive face and long, black hair that flowed freely in the wind.
His life had now turned upside down for the better, and he was determined to make the most of it.
He flexed his muscles, admiring the definition and strength that he now possessed.
Every inch of his body was sculpted to perfection, a testament to the power and potential that he now held within him.
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the silky strands slip through his fingers, and sighed in contentment.
This was what he had always wanted, and he was not about to let it slip away.
"Time to get dressed," he said quietly, his voice calm yet brimming with certainty.
In an instant, black cultivator's robes enveloped his frame—simple, modest, and devoid of any extravagant ornamentation.
There were no golden threads, no clan emblems, no symbols of prestige.
Just flowing black fabric that clung to him like the night sky.
Power didn't always need to be flaunted.
It was one thing to be the king of a world, to sit high above others and bask in their worship.
But true power… true dominance… was best wielded in silence. From the shadows.
Hidden in plain sight.
He closed his eyes and released his divine sense.
It surged outward like a tidal wave, rippling through the fabric of reality, scanning every thread of existence.
He saw countless stars, countless galaxies, and countless universes—each teeming with life, chaos, and order.
All of it, now under his gaze.
With a flicker of will, he tried to shift to another universe. Back home. But nothing happened.
"Hm," he muttered. "So even as the rightful owner of the multiverse, even with my soul engraved into its very core, I'm still bound by the rules of this quest…"
A pause. Then a small chuckle escaped his lips, rich with amusement.
"That's fine. I'm already op. This next world—this next challenge—it'll be nothing but a walk in the park."
He opened his eyes, and they shimmered with divine light.
With no hesitation, he descended upon the world assigned to him.
A world brimming with division, war, greed, and resistance.
Nations locked in eternal struggle, clans warring for resources, kings clawing at each other's throats for dominance.
They never stood a chance.
In the first minute, he shattered the greatest sect in the land.
The sky split open as their ancestral guardian was obliterated with a single glance.
In the second minute, the armies of a hundred kingdoms fell to their knees.
Spears shattered, warships sank, and generals groveled before him, their wills crushed like brittle twigs.
By the fifth minute, the resistance was no more.
Cultivators, warlords, demons, even ancient sealed beings hidden in pocket realms—all were forced to acknowledge his supremacy.
He didn't even need to speak. His presence alone was enough to bring empires to heel.
And by the tenth minute, the entire world knelt before him.
No longer a land of division, chaos, or petty ambition. It was now a world with one ruler, one will, and one law—his.
He stood atop a floating citadel conjured from thought alone, looking down on the lands that now belonged to him.
The clouds parted above, revealing a sky that had bent to his aura.
Even nature itself dared not defy him.
"Conquest," he whispered. "One down."
"Congratulations for conquering this world, host. Moving on to the next world. Initializing transfer…" The system notified then he traveled to the second world.
Then the third. And then the next.
Each one fell before him like dominoes.
With every victory, his strength grew, his methods sharpened, and his legend spread across the fabric of reality.
At first, he moved with confidence, even excitement.
The thrill of conquest, the challenge of bending foreign laws of existence to his will—it was intoxicating.
But then came the hundredth world.
And still, the quest didn't end.
"What the fuck?" he muttered, brows furrowing in frustration.
Yet he pushed on. One hundred became five hundred.
Five hundred became a thousand. Then tens of thousands. Millions. Billions.
Countless worlds rose—and fell—before him.
Years passed. Then centuries. Then millennia.
Eventually, even the stars that once bore witness to his ascension had died and been reborn a thousand times over.
One trillion years later, he was still conquering worlds.
Still bound to the same quest.
And now, for the first time, he felt something gnaw at the back of his mind—doubt.
"This is stupid," he said flatly, standing atop the ruins of yet another divine palace.
He stared into the endless horizon and exhaled.
"This can't be real. Someone is playing a game with me."
He looked up at the sky, then called out.
"How many worlds more do I need to conquer?" he demanded.
There was a moment of silence, then a calm female voice echoed in his mind—the system.
"I'm sorry, host. Even the system does not possess that information."
He stood still for a long moment.
Then laughed.
It wasn't a joyous laugh, nor one of madness—but the hollow sound of a man who had finally accepted an absurd truth.
"Fine." He shook his head and dropped back into his throne, which hovered high in the sky like a god's seat above creation.
Below him, a sea of people—an entire world's worth—were on their knees, heads bowed in reverence and fear.
He had just finished conquering another realm.
And for the first time in eons, he felt tired.
A strange thought crossed his mind then. Childish, perhaps.
But it sparked something inside him.
"Can I pick the next world?" he asked, lifting his gaze.
There was a brief pause.
"Affirmative, host," the system replied.
A slow smile formed on his lips—something genuine for once.
"Nice," he murmured. Then, with a glint of curiosity in his eyes, he leaned forward and said,
"I want to go to…"