Monster Harem In The Tower
Chapter 154: Self-Gifting in a Broken Algorithm

Chapter 154: Self-Gifting in a Broken Algorithm

Foam piled up on her shoulder—pure white, a stark contrast to the faint scars on her back, recently healed after leveling up.

Sophia stared at the bubbles, then let out a soft sigh.

"Why aren’t you here, huh..." she whispered,

as if Nathan could hear her through the steam.

Her hand moved again— scrubbing gently toward her neck, then down between the curves of her chest, pushing along the foam that had puffed up too eagerly, like marshmallows roasted for too long.

"Do you even know... how stupid you are, Nathan?"

Sophia’s voice trembled slightly— not from the temperature, but from the noise starting to rise inside her head.

"You’re annoying. You’re an idiot. You say yes too often without even thinking..."

The foam slid down from her chest to her stomach, carried by her hesitant, slowing hand.

"But you’re still you..."

She bit her lip.

Her left hand pressed the shower puff against her belly,

while her right began wiping the lather from her skin.

The foam gradually slipped lower—past her navel,

down to her V-line.

Sophia paused for a moment, holding the puff mid-air.

Then she turned the water back on.

Her head lowered.

Water flowed from above— down her hair, her cheeks— blending with the tears that suddenly fell, uninvited.

"...God..." she whispered.

"Why am I like this..."

Her hand moved up, trying to wipe the tears— but they kept coming.

One drop slid down, joining the soapy foam that still clung to her breasts, mixing into the lingering lather— absurd, like a bra made of bubbles from another dimension.

But Sophia didn’t laugh. She just stood there, head bowed, body still. Only the water moved.

"I hate you, Nathan..."

She said it again.

But her eyes were wet.

And her breath unsteady.

Her full chest rose and fell slowly.

"I hate you... I hate you..."

She hugged herself.

Her arms, still slick with soap, rubbed gently across her own skin— but what she felt wasn’t soap. Wasn’t foam.

It was emptiness.

"If you were here... maybe I wouldn’t be like this..."

The shower kept running.

Foam continued to slip down her body—

drifting past her chest, her navel, grazing her thighs, sliding along the curve of her ass, down her knees, her calves, her ankles before finally falling to the bathroom floor.

And disappearing.

Just like Nathan’s voice— a sound she hadn’t heard in a long, long time.

----

Plap... Plap...

Velmora gave one last gentle pat to Nathan’s shaft—

like a nun blessing a kitchen knife before it sliced into a sacred onion.

"All clean, ehe..." Velmora said with a shy smile.

Nathan stayed silent, eyes glancing downward.

The softness of Velmora’s final breath still lingered—

not just on his skin, but in his brain.

"Th-Thanks," he mumbled.

His shaft was still upright.

Slightly trembling.

But Nathan closed his eyes for a second.

"Focus. This is a sanitation project, not a damn porno."

He bent down and lifted the next Kralven Log.

Thanks to his [Temporary Physical Enhancement], the massive log—

as long as a streetlight pole—felt light.

Like a bolster pillow with abandonment issues.

Velmora immediately got into position.

Her tail writhed, the tip beginning to rotate slowly like a drill on standby.

"This one," Nathan pointed at the glowing blue mark on the log.

"Then move over to that one, after this, yeah?"

Velmora nodded confidently.

Her breasts gave a small bounce with that movement,

and Nathan—summoning what was left of his moral integrity—tried not to look.

DRRTTTTT...

The organic drill got to work.

Her tail tip pressed in, spun, and pushed—slowly but steadily.

It sounded like a machine—

but way too sensual to be heard during serious work.

Nathan held the log firmly.

Sweat began forming at his temple.

Velmora leaned in slightly.

Her breasts glistened under the sunlight,

and now that she too had started sweating,

drops rolled down her cleavage—

trailing slowly like they were teasing a tongue to come lick them clean.

Thud.

"Focus, Nath... focus..."

He glanced at Validia—still lying by the riverside, rubbing her belly and snoring like a stuffed giant.

Back to Velmora.

"This Tower’s not gonna clean itself," Nathan muttered—

half resigned, half admiring the sheer absurdity of his fate.

And so, they continued working—

A man with suppressed lust,

and a naked snake girl who believed that drilling logs was an intimate act she could offer for the man in front of her.

One by one, the logs were drilled.

One by one, their boundaries of sanity were tested.

All for an automatic poop-cleaning system— perhaps more useful than a gift ever made from a self-gifting impulse, on a reading platform where chaotic algorithms can’t distinguish between passion and madness.

---

Domina sat on a large rock, both hands resting on her knees.

Each time Domina sighed, her black hoodie lifted just enough to reveal the under-curve of her caramel breasts—soft, steady, almost defiant. Her thin fabric clung like misplaced stickers, barely containing the muscle beneath. When her thighs tensed, even the rock she sat on seemed too flustered to stay firm.

Her gaze was blank—not out of laziness, but because her mind was starting to reject the routine.

Livia stood not far from her, arms crossed occasionally frowning— as if trying to recall something long buried.

Sweat slid down from Livia’s hairline, tracing her neck before pausing at the edge of her barely-there cloth. Her nipples pressed lightly against the fabric—soft enough to jiggle, hard enough to show intent. When she shifted her weight, her hips swayed like a bored succubus waiting to pounce.

Morvessa now perched on a tree branch,

but her wings trembled slightly, like a bird unsure of where to fly.

"Have we always been like this...?" Domina murmured softly.

Livia answered, her voice heavy,

"Wake up. Eat. Play with Nathan. Bathe. Laugh. Repeat."

"Our lives feel like a loop..." Morvessa added,

but it wasn’t in a joking tone.

It sounded bitter.

Domina closed her eyes.

"But now we’re able to think like this."

"Does that mean... our past awareness was different?" Livia asked quietly.

"No... we’re still the same as before. We still remember what we did just a few days ago."

Morvessa descended from the tree, landing gently on the ground.

When Morvessa landed, a breeze parted the feathers near her thighs—revealing just enough to question whether anything was ever hidden at all. Her stance was wide, instinctive. Not provocative. But her pale skin shimmered in the light, and her pussy flashed like a forbidden frame in an animated nature film.

"I think... there’s one person who might be able to explain all of this confusion."

Domina and Livia looked at each other—

and spoke the same name at once.

"Nathan."