Legendary body count!

The Luxury Room.

A place where only the highest-ranking entities indulged in the spoils of the Harem Tournament. A place so sacred that even lesser gods wept tears of envy. Here, the most degenerate Overlords basked in an endless symphony of pleasure, their divine bodies writhing in synchrony with the multiversal passion unfolding before them.

And sitting right in the middle of it all, with a glass of celestial wine in one hand and an expression of divine amusement, was Aizen Sousuke.

The former ruler of Hueco Mundo had done the impossible—he had deceived even the gods themselves.

He leaned back, sipping his wine, his smirk deepening. "These fools don't even realize…"

A tentacled Overlord beside him groaned in pleasure, its thousand eyes rolling back as it let out an inhuman moan.

Aizen gave it the most disgusted side-eye in history. "…that they are experiencing their climax in my presence."

He almost laughed aloud at the sheer audacity of his own deception. These so-called omnipotent beings, the perverse architects of this reality, had welcomed him as one of their own. They treated him like an equal, unaware that he had already surpassed them in every way.

"I could take this entire empire for myself at any moment."

He looked down at the battlefield below. The screens displayed pure, unfiltered depravity—champions from across anime universes had abandoned all sense of restraint. Even the most disciplined warriors had succumbed to the primal energy of the Harem Tournament.

Aizen exhaled, closing his eyes. The universe was his playground now.

Denji: The Man, the Myth, the Walking Incarnation of Lust

"FIFTY TIMES!"

Denji stood atop a pile of collapsed, thoroughly exhausted women, his arms raised in victory.

"No… NO! EIGHTY TIMES!"

He turned to the nearest stunned bystander—poor, traumatized Tanjiro—grinning like a man who had ascended the mortal plane through sheer degeneracy.

"Bro. This. Is. HEAVEN."

Tanjiro, who had witnessed true horror in his life, had never been more disturbed.

"You… you counted?"

Denji's face turned deadly serious. "Of course I counted."

At that moment, a completely drained Power crawled past, groaning. "I… I have seen things, Denji. Things."

Denji grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Welp, time to make it ninety!"

Gojo: An Appreciation for Fine… Fresh… Things

Gojo adjusted his blindfold, watching the madness unfold before him. He was no stranger to chaos, but this?

This was next level.

He took a slow sip from a golden chalice filled with some mysterious aphrodisiacal nectar of the gods.

"Hmm…"

His sharp blue eyes scanned the battlefield, watching as champions fell one by one—not to violence, but to the greatest, most carnal war imaginable.

He cracked his knuckles.

"Y'know…" He turned to Luffy, who was engaged in an Olympic-tier stamina test with Nami and Makima. "I don't mind joining in on the fun, but I gotta say…"

His smirk widened. "I'm gonna need a fresh batch of virgins every round."

A few fighters visibly shuddered.

Meanwhile, in the distance, Johan Liebert—who had been silently watching this depravity unfold—slowly took out his phone and typed into a note:

"Reminder: Kill Gojo first."

Tanjiro & Eren: The Silent Rebellion

The air crackled with suppressed rage as two men sat in the shadows, fists clenched, veins throbbing.

Tanjiro and Eren.

They watched, unable to look away, as the women they had sworn to protect were swept into the madness.

Nezuko.Mikasa.

Their sisters. Their loves. Their reason for existing.

Now entangled with strangers, consumed by the tournament's forbidden pleasures.

Eren's teeth ground together with such force that the air itself vibrated.

"I will kill him."

Tanjiro's aura darkened, his pure-hearted soul shattered by what he was witnessing.

"We need to fight back."

But they both knew the truth.

They were alone in their rage.

The Overlord's grip was too strong.

Everyone else had embraced this world. Even those who should have been allies—Gojo, Urahara, Aizen—had succumbed to the indulgence.

And so, they sat in silence, seething. Waiting for their moment.

Makima, Nami, & The Newcomers: Straight to Business

As if the floodgates of pleasure had been unsealed, the newest arrivals wasted no time diving in.

Makima, smirking like a woman who owned this entire tournament, had already roped in half a dozen partners at once.

Nami, ever the opportunist, had somehow turned this entire ordeal into a financial venture, charging Luffy "pleasure fees."

Frieren, having lived a thousand years and never once done something like this, muttered, "I suppose this is a new experience…" before promptly entering the chaos.

And poor Hinata?

Let's just say… she wasn't so pure anymore.

Urahara: The Quick Learner

When Urahara Kisuke first arrived, he was confused.

A world where power wasn't measured by strength, but by stamina?

A world where the battlefield was the bedroom?

A world where the strong didn't fight to kill, but to conquer… in bed?

It took him exactly five seconds to understand how this world worked.

And in the next five seconds?

He was already making out with Yoruichi.

She grinned. "Took you long enough."

He tipped his hat. "Well, I am a fast learner."

A few moments later, they were gone, swept into the madness like everyone else.

Aizen's Smirk Deepens

Back in the Luxury Room, Aizen watched it all unfold.

He took another slow sip of celestial wine.

"So predictable."

His plan was already in motion.

While the Overlord was distracted, drowning in pleasure, Aizen was securing his place at the top.

Soon… soon, they would all kneel before him.

Even the gods themselves.

With a final smirk, he leaned back, basking in the glory of his own deception.

TO BE CONTINUED…