The Canary that couldn't escape - Chapter 8 - Don’t You Remember Him

In the cutthroat world of Westeros, where power is a game and everyone's fate is a pawn in a deadly chess match, Gendry is a nobody with a secret that could change everything. A bastard with the blood of the Stormborn coursing through his veins, he's been thrown into the scorching heart of a blacksmith's forge. Here, he'll face the trials of iron and fire, learn to hide his true identity, and carve out a path through the treacherous whirlpool of power.As the shadow of the Spider spreads across King's Landing, Gendry's fate takes a dark turn. Can he survive the deadly game of politics? And will he find his own glory amidst the forge's flames?

Rick hardly had any hope to find a girlfriend. There were swarms of beautiful women around him, but no one was actually interested in a dull, boy like him. They didn't even pay attention to his existence.

But everything changed when he was handed over a rod. Yes, a metal rod. Carrying that metal rod he had hardly taken a few steps when he was struck by lightening.

As he lost consciousness, Rick wanted to beat the shit out of bloody bastard who gave him that rod, but when he woke up, he had a surprise waiting. He got a system which would help him get girls and make him stronger.

Read my other story: The Devil's Harem (200+ chapters)

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I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.

Warning contains-Incest/Ntr/ Heavy NetorareA Boy struggles with the problems of being raised in a family full of lewd older women.