Author's Note: Dear Readers,

First and foremost, I'd like to take a moment to thank every single one of you who have been a part of this journey with me. Your comments, your support, and your enthusiasm keep me going to bring more of Supreme Spouse System to life. I couldn't do it without you, and I'm so thankful for each reader who has adopted the story thus far.

As we keep going deeper into the story of Leon and Aria, I have a little favor to ask. If you've been liking the chapters, I would be utterly delighted if you could leave behind a Powerstone and drop a review. Your feedback not only helps me improve as an author, but it also helps others find the story. Also, your reviews are what give me the motivation to continue going on, knowing that the characters and their journey are connecting with you!

If you have any ideas or thoughts on where you'd like the story to proceed, don't hesitate to share them with me. I'm always excited to hear from you and work in what you enjoy into the story. After all, this is as much your journey as it is mine.

Thank you once again for your amazing support. Keep watching for more adventures, turns, and of course, Leon and Aria's relationship!

With love,

Scorpio_saturn777

Creator of Supreme Spouse System

...

Awakening in a New World

"HONK! HONK!"

Tires shrieked.

BAM.

Brakes slammed hard—

Too late.

The driver never even saw him. The road had been empty. Clear. Not a soul in sight.

Until there was.

And then—

"Ughh…"

Leon hit the pavement like a ragdoll flung by some drunk god. Twenty years old, and now every nerve in his body was lit up and screaming. His limbs didn't move. Wouldn't move. His vision smeared into blinding white, then pitch black, then both.

The last thing he saw?

Those goddamn headlights. Bearing down.

"…Truck-kun… I was joking, man… I didn't think you'd actually take me up on it…"

He let out a shaky laugh—dry, bitter. It barely escaped before it turned into a groan, swallowed by the pain clawing through his ribs, his spine, everything. It hurt. Fuck, it hurt.

And then… slowly…

Nothing.

------------------------------------

Leon jolted like his soul had just been yanked out of the abyss.

His chest heaved. Gasping like he'd forgotten how lungs worked.

His eyes snapped open—wild, disoriented, frantic.

"…That was… that was a scary-ass dream…"

Sweat clung to his brow. He sat up with a wince, breath ragged, heart thudding like it was trying to punch its way out of his ribs.

But the fear… it didn't leave. It stuck.

And something else—something deeper—felt wrong.

Way wrong.

He blinked. Looked around.

And froze.

"…Where… the hell… am I?"

Because this—

This wasn't his shitty one-room apartment with the flickering bulb and ramen wrappers on the floor.

This was something else.

Massive obsidian-black pillars lined the walls like silent guardians, etched in blood-red runes that shimmered low in the flickering candlelight. The carpet beneath him was thick, luxurious, black as ink. The polished floor beneath it gleamed like glass.

The furniture? Heavy, dark wood. Rich velvet. Way too regal for IKEA.

And the bed—no, throne disguised as a bed—was draped in crimson silk that looked like it cost more than his rent.

The air was heavy. Old. It smelled like incense, and dust, and secrets.

This wasn't just a room.

This was a fucking proclamation.

Leon swallowed, throat dry.

His brain scrambled for logic. Anything.

Was I kidnapped?

But who the hell would kidnap him? He had no money. No enemies. No one gave enough of a shit about him.

Then it hit.

"…Wait… that wasn't a dream?"

His pulse kicked up.

That truck actually hit me?

His thoughts spun, scattered like marbles on a tile floor. Maybe this was a coma dream. Maybe he was in a hospital for the one percent. Maybe someone saved him.

Maybe…

No.

He rubbed his face—and stopped.

His hands.

They weren't his.

Paler. Smoother. Stronger, somehow. Like someone gave him a full skincare package, then tossed in a strength buff for free.

His eyes dropped.

No hoodie. No jeans. No mustard stains or peeling band logos.

Instead—

A sleek black tunic trimmed in silver. Tailored black trousers. Fine as hell.

Noble clothes.

His heart thudded. Louder. Louder.

He stumbled to the window and threw it open.

The air hit him—cool, crisp, unfamiliar.

And the view…

Castles. Towers. A whole-ass medieval fantasy city. Cobblestone streets lit by soft golden lanterns. Shops, plazas, rooftops straight out of a high-fantasy RPG.

And two moons.

Two full, glowing moons hanging in a velvet sky.

"…Oh shit."

His jaw hung. Then a grin pulled at his face, slow and wild.

"Oh shit."

A laugh tore out of him—sharp, breathless. Then another. He couldn't stop.

"I fucking transmigrated?!"

He spun away from the window like a kid who just unwrapped a console on Christmas. Laughter burst out of him, loud, manic.

"Truck-kun, you absolute legend! I said hit me and you really did it! HAHAHAHAHA!"

He dropped back onto the floor, arms splayed out, eyes wide with spark-drunk disbelief.

"Alright… alright, okay. This is it. This is the part. This is where the cheat system shows up, right?"

He stood up fast.

Waited.

Grinning like an idiot.

One minute.

Two.

Five.

The grin twitched. Slipped.

"…Don't tell me… no system?"

A sigh crawled out of him—long, frustrated, laced with dread.

"Of course not. Lady Luck's got beef with me in every world, huh…"

He ran both hands through his hair. Tried not to spiral. Maybe—maybe he just ended up in some rich noble kid's body. No powers. No cheats. Just… vibes.

Well.

At least the bed looked like a cloud wrapped in sin.

He flopped back, groaning—

And then the pain hit.

"AAARGHHH!"

Like someone lit his brain on fire and slammed it into overdrive.

He dropped to his knees, fingers clawing at his skull as if he could pry the agony out.

Visions slammed into him. Faces. Names.

Places he'd never seen.

Wars he'd never fought.

Secrets he shouldn't know.

They poured into him like a tsunami smashing through a paper dam.

And through it all—

A name.

His name.

Leon Moonwalker.

Duke of the Moonstone Kingdom.

...

The System's Arrival

Pain. Like a white-hot spike is tore straight through his skull.

"AARGHH!"

Leon's hands shot to his head, nails digging into his scalp as a searing, mind-shredding agony exploded behind his eyes. Like fire pouring through his veins—but inside his brain.

And then… memories. Not his. Not even close.

A tidal wave of them. Faces he didn't know. Lands he'd never seen. Battles he'd never fought. Secrets he had no right to know.

And somewhere inside that chaos… a name whispered itself into the center of his soul.

Leon Moonwalker.

Duke of the Moonstone Kingdom.

Galvia.

That was the name of this world.

The flood slowed. The puzzle pieces clicked into place. His chest rose and fell, breath ragged, as the truth finally settled.

He wasn't in his own body.

He was in his.

The previous Leon… was a damn monster. A living legend. Ruthless, brilliant, terrifying. A man who made grown warriors piss themselves when he walked into a room.

But even monsters have flaws. And his?

It was bad.

A sickness. One no one had been able to name. It rotted him from the inside out, slow and cruel, until his body betrayed him in the worst ways.

Leon's mouth tightened.

His gaze dropped.

"...Erectile dysfunction?"

He sat there. Just… still. Eyes locked on his crotch like it might offer an explanation.

"…You've got to be fucking kidding me."

He groaned, hands dragging down his face. Shame and disbelief curling in his gut like acid.

"In my last life, I was a goddamn virgin. I had this stupid dream, you know? That if I ever got transmigrated, I'd go wild. Build a harem. Drown in women. Finally live it up…"

His throat tightened.

"…But this?"

His face twisted. Not just from pain. But disappointment. Deep. Crippling.

"So that's why... he never touched a woman. He couldn't." His voice was low. Bitter. "Shit. No wonder he died last night. It wasn't the sickness. It was the loneliness. The damn frustration…"

The fantasy was already slipping away. Fast.

And then—

Creak.

The door opened.

A quiet whoosh of wind slipped into the room. Warm. Soft. And laced with something sweet. Like crushed petals.

He looked up.

And then forgot how to breathe.

A girl stood there. No. Not a girl. A woman on the cusp. Eighteen? Nineteen?

But more than that—

A vision.

Long crimson-red hair spilled down her back like silk soaked in blood. Her eyes, same crimson, gleamed with depth—like they knew things. Felt things. Wanted things.

Her body was... unreal. All curves and softness wrapped tight in a white and red gown that clung like sin. Pale skin, smooth. Her every step fluid. Quiet. Elegant.

Leon's lips parted.

"If she was on Earth… she'd be a goddess. Even those plastic, over-filtered idols would look like cardboard next to her."

She was that beautiful.

Rias Moonwalker.

The name slammed into his skull.

She was the Duke's adopted daughter.

Now, technically… his daughter.

He saw it—clear as day—memories of her small and hungry, begging on the streets. Her hand tugging on his cloak. The moment the Duke had scooped her into his arms and taken her home. A broken man, unable to create a family… giving his last warmth to someone who needed it.

And now she was…

"Daddy!"

She ran.

Before he could think, she was there—pressing into his chest. Arms wrapped tight around him. Her warmth folding into his like a heartbeat he'd forgotten he needed.

"Finally… finally, you're awake!" Her voice cracked.

A tear slid from her cheek onto his tunic. Warm. Real.

Leon froze.

He felt everything—

The way her body fit against his.

The scent of her hair.

The slight tremble in her breath.

His heart was pounding. Not just because she was beautiful.

Because the closeness… it was overwhelming.

"So, this is what it feels like… to hold someone like this?"

More memories. She was his daughter. Adopted, yes—but still raised as his own. The previous Leon had always kept things distant. Polite. Protective. Never more than that.

Maybe out of honor.

Maybe because… he simply couldn't.

Leon swallowed.

He had to play the role.

His hand lifted. Awkward. Careful. And then it landed on her back, gently patting.

"It's okay, dear. I'm fine now."

The voice came out soft. Calm.

Perfectly measured.

"God bless those shitty college drama classes," he thought grimly.

Rias pulled back a little, eyes red but shining. She nodded, biting her lower lip.

"You really scared me, Daddy… This morning, when I came to wake you, you weren't moving. I thought— I thought you were gone. The doctor said your heart was still beating, but you weren't waking up. I—I panicked. I really did…"

He offered her a small, gentle smile.

"I must've collapsed. Been pushing myself too hard lately," he lied—smooth, effortless. The words stitched together from fading fragments of the Duke's memories.

She sniffled, nodding again, though her expression didn't ease completely.

"You must be starving. Why don't you take a bath while I bring your food here? You shouldn't move too much yet."

Leon nodded. "That sounds… perfect."

She stood, graceful even in that small motion. And as she turned to leave, her eyes flicked back. Just once.

Then she walked out. Her hips swayed. Long legs disappearing behind the door frame like a scene meant to torment a man.

He stared after her.

And then—

He frowned.

"…Wait."

Something itched in the back of his mind.

A memory. A very specific one.

About Rias.

She had a problem.

No. A dangerous one.

A… daddy complex.

And not the harmless, cutesy kind. Not the "I love you, Daddy!" and make-you-cookies kind.

No.

This was dark.

Twisted.

Obsessive.

She'd tried to seduce him. Over and over. Slipping into his bed at night. Whispering things no daughter should whisper. Wearing barely-there clothes. Tempting him with her body—on purpose.

And the old Leon? He never gave in.

Not because he was a saint.

But because he literally... couldn't.

She made her move. He stayed cold.

End of story.

But even then… she didn't stop.

Leon buried his face in his hands again.

"No wonder he died pure. Not for lack of opportunity. Just… damn it. Erectile dysfunction…"

And just when that lovely thought was settling in—

[DING!]

A sharp chime echoed inside his skull.

Words—bright, blue, digital—blinked into existence right before his eyes.

[System initializing—condition complete.]

[Connecting the Supreme Spouse System to Host's Soul…]

[Connection established successfully.]

Leon sat upright.

"What the fuck?"

The interface unfolded—clean, translucent, futuristic.

[Host Information]

Name: Leon Moonwalker

Age: 30

Cultivation: Grandmaster

Race: Human

Talent: Average

Level: 1

HP: 100/100

STR: 37/100

AGL: 32/100

VIT: 28/100

STM: 30/100

INT: 20/100

DEF: 29/100

Blank Points: 10

(Limit of a normal human: 10)

[Skill Unlocked:]

Touch of Charm (Passive)

– Every touch radiates a subtle magic, drawing women in. Once they've felt it, no one else satisfies them quite the same. The more time spent with her… the stronger the bond becomes.

[Harem Members: None]

[System Bonus: 10 Blank Points – assign freely.]

[Notice: Supreme Spouse System installed successfully.]

From now on, the host can gain power, talent, physique, and bloodline of any woman he fucks.

The stronger she is, the greater the benefit.

[Friendly Reminder: Want to get stronger? Build a BIG harem.]

Leon stared.

Then blinked.

And slowly… a wicked, hesitant grin broke across his face. "…Oh."