Brother, It's Your Turn to Be My Prisoner

The day my nemesis seized me by force, the System bound itself to my soul.

To escape his deranged control, I began an endless career of quick transmigration and flight.

In every world, I could hear his chilling whisper by my ear: “Every time you run, Brother, I'll install ten more surveillance cameras.”

On an interstellar battlefield, he became a marshal and used his mental tentacles to lock around my throat;

In the cultivation world, he became a Demon Venerable and branded a slave mark on my collarbone;

In the post-apocalyptic wasteland, he was the sole scientist, using antibodies to control whether I lived or died;

In the fourth world, a fairy tale, I finally broke down and begged, “What do you want from me?”

He smiled and kissed the poisoned apple I held out to him. “For you to get used to loving me as naturally as you breathe.”

When I transmigrated back to the original world and succeeded in taking revenge, the Supreme System came crashing down.

As countless fragments of worlds fell, he crushed the core of the Supreme System and smiled just like he had when we first met:

“Now it's your turn to be my prisoner, Brother.”