Monster Harem In The Tower
Chapter 90: Just Maintenance

Chapter 90: Just Maintenance

"Why... why did the world stop again?"

Nathan blinked, his mind scrambling for answers.

I didn’t trigger anything about the forbidden memory... he thought.

But then—a vertical black line reappeared beside Validia’s colosal hips, like a slash wound across the screen of the world.

A pale hand—white like curdled milk dried under the sun of a dead moon—emerged from the slit.

That hand pulled the line open like a curtain and the Tower Manager, the Milky Mommy stepped through once more.

She stood beside Validia, still frozen.

Her face... grinning like an intern who had just sabotaged her boss’s spreadsheet after being told to work overtime for less than minimum wage.

"What the hell is going on?! I didn’t touch the Forbidden Memories!"

Nathan shouted, his voice cracking between rage and confusion.

The Tower Manager giggled.

"Relax, relax... just a bit of background work,"

she said, touching her chest like a fake customer service agent pretending to care.

Her hand rose. From her fingertips—

black lines lashed outward like slick, sentient whips.

Srak—srak—srak—!

The lines flew forward, striking the foreheads of the Monster Girls—

Domina. Livia. Validia. Velmora. Morvessa.

Each of them froze like wax dolls undergoing a firmware rewrite.

Then—

[Ding!] [Ding!] [Ding!] [Ding!] [Ding!]

New panels appeared in front of each girl, each one glowing in a different color.

Strange text appeared— letters that looked like a mix between alien runes and corrupted italics.

And then—horizontal bars.

Loading bars.

Nathan felt it in his gut:

"They’re updating."

Are they being patched?

He said nothing.

The Tower Manager let out a long sigh, lowering her hand. Then her gaze drifted toward Nathan. Her cheeks turned pink.

Her eyes looked downward. She swallowed.

"There’s still time..." she whispered.

Her right hand lifted, index finger tracing the air slowly— like someone miming a delicate, torturous clit stroke.

Intentional. Erotic. Almost ceremonial.

And then...

Nathan’s body was pulled. As if he were a plastic figure in a zero-gravity simulation, he floated gently toward her, completely helpless.

His eyes widened.

His breath caught.

He stopped—

...right in front of the Tower Manager.

But his height was slightly off. Nathan’s hips lined up with her face. His crotch... was just centimeters from her eyes.

And then—

SPLASHRTTTTT—!

A spray of soft, slick foam— maybe soap, maybe water, maybe the sacred residue of unresolved sin— splashed from the tip of Nathan’s shaft, hitting the left cheek of the Tower Manager.

It trickled slowly down to her chin.

A few drops stained the lapel of her black suit. The Tower Manager said nothing.

She didn’t wipe it.

Instead, she turned her face toward Nathan.

Her smile faded.

Her gaze shifted— as if she had just received either a prophecy or the most personal humiliation imaginable.

Nathan stared blankly, his expression the spiritual hangover of someone caught between arousal and divine confusion.

"I... I didn’t even do anything..."

She whispered under her breath—

’I... Knowhh...."

The Tower Manager stood still.

Her eyes stared straight at Nathan. Her posture remained upright but slowly, her hand moved again.

That pale milk-white palm reached out once more, touching Nathan’s slippery cock.

"Aghh—!"

Nathan bit his lip.

Her grip tightened.

Like a biker revving a heavy motorcycle,

the way she held him was intense, firm, and fully intentional.

"What the hell is this?!"

Nathan gasped, his body trembling slightly.

"You just show up out of nowhere and then... what did you do to them?! Those Monster Girls—what did you mess with in their minds?!"

The Tower Manager didn’t answer.

Instead—she looked at his shaft,

loosened her grip for a moment—

Then—

Push...—

She pressed the head of his cock with her thumb.

"F-Fuck..." Nathan cursed.

But deep down,another voice rose within him— bitter, honest.

Damn... if I were still horny and hadn’t just cum, this would’ve felt way better...

She looked into his eyes.

Her expression still blank.

But slowly— a faint smile appeared on her black lips, showing a black curve on her pale face.

"You don’t need to be afraid," she said softly. "Everything... is just maintenance."

"Maintenance...?"

Nathan furrowed his brows—

though her grip on his shaft remained firm.

"The last Eclipse... was a glitch. The old cycle embedded in their memory... is corrupted."

She stepped forward.

Her body drew closer.

Her black dress—soft, shimmering,

but wrinkled at the waist— fell gracefully from her shoulders.

The skin on her shoulders—pale as condensed milk—seemed to glow.

And underneath the fabric— a pair of heavy breasts pressed against the inner curve of the dress, shaped like perfect vanilla soft serve poured into a glossy black cone.

Nathan said nothing.

This isn’t about the system anymore...

This is already spiritual orgasm territory, he thought.

She placed a hand on her own chest.

"Their neuro-pathways regarding the Eclipse must be rewritten," she continued.

"Stored within their subconscious...

a new map must be embedded."

The Tower Manager’s hand still wrapped around Nathan’s shaft, moving up and down slowly,blike she was pumping a hydraulic brake coated in divine slime.

Each stroke produced a slick, steady sound— like fingers gliding across a fogged-up window in side a heretical cathedral.

Clear fluid dripped from the tip of his glans,

falling onto her pale milk-white fingers.

She didn’t wipe it.

She spread it.

With her thumb,

she circled the head of Nathan’s cock, tracing a wet spiral as if drawing an ancient symbol born from anarchic ideology.

Her breasts—

two melting vanilla ice creams—

swayed gently with each subtle movement.

Her nipples nearly slipped out of the cleavage of her black dress,

gazing at the world with seductive silence.

His shaft now glistened in perfect lubrication,

coated with a mixture of saliva, soap,

and a faint trace of first-wave ejaculation residue.

The Tower Manager leaned down,

licking the leftover fluid that had splashed onto her own chest.

"I have to make sure this channel... stays active," she whispered.

Her grip tightened—

like a researcher holding onto a high-voltage cable

mid-experiment.

"Aghhmmm..."

Nathan groaned.

Her hand began to move again—

up and down along Nathan’s shaft,

as if writing a spell onto his skin using tremors as ink.

"When the next Eclipse comes, they must be able to feel... before it’s too late again."

Nathan clenched his jaw.

"When... is the next Eclipse?"

The Tower Manager slowly leaned down,

her lips hovering close to his shaft’s surface.

"Around two days from now..."

She licked her black lips.

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