Supreme Casanova: Ultimate Harem System

It was Hugo's last day on earth…

The morning light streamed through his blinds, rudely stabbing him awake.

His groggy eyes fluttered open, and a glowing blue hologram screen flashed across his face. He squinted at the screen, and the first thing he saw made his heart stop.

[15 hours, 59 minutes remaining until Death Mission Deadline.]

Eradication. Not deletion. Not a casual "oops, system malfunction."

No, eradication. The word rang in his head like an ominous death knell, and Hugo felt his soul shrivel.

He hadn't even lived yet! He hadn't kissed enough girls! He hadn't even unlocked the legendary skill "Six-Pack of Seduction"!

He sat up in bed dramatically, clutching his pillow like a tragic Shakespearean hero.

"This can't be it," he whispered to no one, staring at the bland ceiling of his tiny room. "I'm too young, too… sexy to die!"

Then his eyes gleamed with determination. From under his pillow, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

A list. Not just any list. His "Last Day Bucket List: Things I Must Do Before I Die."

Written in his finest handwriting (aka, barely legible chicken scratch), the list was Hugo's desperate attempt at seizing the day.

He had accepted it. A man must know what the circumstances were and accept them. If the date with Lily didn't end good this night, he would truly die.

His hands trembled, and his pillow dropped to the bed. "This is it. The end. My time on this planet is officially over!"

He clutched his head dramatically, like a mad genius mid-breakdown. "I can't go out like this. No way. I refuse to be remembered as the guy who fart-sneezed during orientation!'

Then he turned to the paper in his hands and looked at the list...

The first item? Write my own eulogy.

Experience tales at empire

"Of course," Hugo muttered, his voice resolute like a Japanese warrior about to commit Hara-Kiri. "A proper send-off for a legend."

He grabbed a notebook and pen, his fingers trembling with purpose. "Let's make this a masterpiece."

For the next two hours, Hugo scribbled with the intensity of a novelist on a deadline, pausing only to sniff dramatically or mutter, "No, that's not tragic enough."

Finally, he finished.

Clearing his throat, Hugo stood in front of his mirror, the notebook held high like it was the sacred text of a long-lost civilisation.

He began to read aloud:

"Ahem... Hugo Fernandez was born an ordinary mortal in an extraordinary world…a world that rejected him, mocked him, and, most importantly, gave him zero romantic prospects.

But even in the face of such adversity, Hugo never gave up. He fought against fate itself, armed with nothing but his below-average charm and a questionable sense of humour.

His journey began humbly, as all great legends do.

He was a shut-in, ridiculed as a loser. Some said he would never amount to anything. Others just…didn't say anything at all, because they didn't notice him.

Since he neither had a mysterious inheritance from his family or a kind old grandpa who taught him in his dreams, all hope appeared lost.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

But then, the heavens themselves smiled upon him. Well, technically, they laughed at him first when he sneezed at orientation and farted right into the face of his crush...

But from that humiliation came a gift: the Ultimate Harem System, a divine tool that promised him unparalleled charm and endless potential…if he could figure out how to use it without embarrassing himself further.

At first, Hugo's life was a series of setbacks. His leads ghosted him. His text messages were left on read.

He even got friend zoned by a barista who misspelled his name on purpose. But Hugo persevered, training in the ancient arts of charisma and small talk.

He was not born with a bloodline, nor a hidden legacy. He didn't have a rich family, a tragic backstory involving dead parents, or even a mysterious scar.

No, Hugo was as normal as they came, and yet, he rose above mediocrity. Through sheer grit (and some lucky skill rolls), he evolved from "awkward loner" to "awkward guy with potential."

He conquered the art of cultivating while multitasking—studying for impromptu tests with one hand while practising beginner-level Casanova arts with the other.

His legendary determination was such that he once sat cross-legged in a parking lot for three whole minutes, claiming it was "part of his breathing technique."

His adversaries were as varied as the stars. He faced villains with names so convoluted they sounded like Wi-Fi passwords, and yet he triumphed.

Whether it was the bald rogue with a vendetta for throwing dudes into pools or the overly drunk antagonist who was particularly skilled at fighting in freshmen clubs, he defeated them all—not with strength alone, but with sheer willpower and a smidgen of dumb luck.

He also mastered the ancient art of gathering allies, forging bonds as unshakable as they were inexplicable.

His first companion was Collins, a golden boy with the charisma of a celebrity and the habit of attracting women like moths to a flame.

Despite constantly upstaging him, Collins remained a loyal friend, always ready to offer sage advice like, "Just be yourself, bro," while conveniently forgetting that being himself wasn't exactly working.

Then came Sanchez, the self-proclaimed "mentor of legends." With his uncanny ability to turn even the simplest advice into a 3-hour lecture, Sanchez was a walking enigma. His most profound wisdom?

"The way to a woman's heart is through her stomach... preferably with a discount coupon."

Though his lessons often veered into the absurd, they somehow worked…occasionally.

Together, they formed a trio of unmatched synergy—one being the face of charm, the other the voice of experience, and him, well… the guy who brought snacks.

Romance, too, was a battlefield he fearlessly ventured into. Every woman he met either wanted to kill him, save him, or join him.

He became a magnet for strong female characters with dubious common sense and inexplicable sexual skills.

Despite their affections, he never let his heart waver—for his true love was destiny (and maybe also spicy ramen).

In the end, Hugo's life was not defined by his failures—though there were many—but by his undying hope that one day, he'd figure out how to be cool.

Hugo Fernandez: gone too soon, but never forgotten.

P.S. If you're reading this, please tell Lily I had a crush on her, but not enough to haunt her or anything. I'm not that kind of ghost.

P.S. If you're still reading this, please tell Collins he still owes me 7 bucks. I'm that kind of ghost."

Hugo sniffled loudly, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. They'll probably teach this in schools one day."

Then he frowned, his face twisting in horror. "Wait a second…this is so cliche! Every single overused trope is in here! I sound like a rejected anime protagonist!"

With a dramatic groan, Hugo crumpled the notebook into a ball and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall, bounced off, and landed squarely in his trash can.

"Well, that's fitting," Hugo muttered. "If my eulogy belongs in the trash, maybe I still have time to fix my life."

He grabbed his to-do list again, glaring at the next item:

"I'll skip the eulogy and just focus on number two…" He grabbed his bucket list again. The second item read: Try sushi for the first time.

He scratched it out. "No time for raw fish. Onto number three: Prepare a worthy Inheritance!"

Thus began Hugo's last day on earth…