Cultivating Charm One Wet Dream At A Time

The moment I was bound to the Charmer Cultivation System, I was gifted a unique cheat: the ability to manufacture dreams.

The System, trapped in my mind, was buzzing with panic.

【The Male Leads and Supporting Male Characters currently have a favorability score of -99 toward the host. What good is a dream-making ability going to do?!】

I answered casually, “A wet dream is still a dream, isn’t it?”

The System: ?

I tapped enthusiastically on my mental keyboard.

“The aloof, brilliant professor… he must be so repressed. I’ll give him a full set of candles and a little leather crop in his dreams!”

System: 【Wait, wait…】

“The reckless, boy-next-door type… I wonder if he’s learned how to be reckless in bed yet. Perfect. I’ll give him a thorough education in his sleep!”

System: 【Stop right there…】

A few nights passed. The men who had consistently treated me with total disgust started to soften their attitudes.

Meanwhile, their white moonlight, the golden girl they idolized, watched the suspicious blush on their faces every time they saw me and practically ground her teeth.

Before she could make her first move, I pulled out my keyboard again.

“My seemingly hostile sister, the certified mean girl, is secretly harboring very different feelings toward me…”

The System shrieked in horror, blocking me immediately.

【No! Absolutely not! We don’t need that kind of favorability!】

1

When other people transmigrate into novels, they are usually bound to a standard Charmer System. The cheat code is activated, and suddenly the male leads, supporting characters, family, and friends all lose their minds, falling all over themselves to shower the heroine with affection.

The System I was stuck with was a Charmer Cultivation System. I got nothing upfront. I had to actively scheme and work to become the charmer myself before I could complete the mission.

The System finished its timid explanation. Seeing my silence, it nervously pressed on.

【I also have some bad news…】

【In this world, you are just a cannon fodder character, unloved by your father and mother. Your fiancé and your childhood best friend both adore your sister, Serena Scott.】

【And just one hour ago, you had a huge fight at a dinner party.】

【In front of everyone, you pushed her into the swimming pool.】

【So, their favorability scores have already plummeted to -99…】

Me: “…”

This wasn’t a little difficult; this was Hell Difficulty, plain and simple.

I tentatively asked, “If I don’t complete the mission, what’s the penalty?”

The System was succinct: 【Eradication.】

【But if the mission is successful, you can return to your original life.】

I offered a small, unimpressed smile.

“Who do you take me for? You think that pathetic carrot is enough to turn me into a simpering lackey? A dog wouldn’t…”

【…Plus, you’ll receive a cash reward of ten billion dollars.】

2

Done! I’ll be the best damn lackey you’ve ever seen!

Ten billion to be a lackey? That’s like money falling from the sky.

But the System wasn’t wrong. This dream-making ability did seem relatively useless.

Just as I was trying to figure out how to leverage this cheat, my cheap fiancé, Rhys Hawthorne, walked straight toward me.

The novel described him as the youngest core figure in the East Coast’s most exclusive research circles—a genius almost preternaturally clever. The Hawthorne family was already old money, but Rhys’s status in the research community, securing major government contracts, had elevated them to an untouchable level among the city’s elite.

Everyone knew that the normally cold and aloof Rhys Hawthorne reserved his rare smiles for only one person: my sister, Serena.

Anyone who dared hurt her, Rhys would relentlessly torment, making it impossible for them to exist in this city.

Case in point, right now.

Serena had choked on water when she fell into the pool and still hadn’t fully recovered, so our parents had punished me by making me stand outside her door, facing the wall.

Rhys approached and immediately grabbed my throat, squeezing hard.

“You had better pray Serena is alright, or you will find out the consequences!”

His suit was impeccably tailored, but even the severity of his frameless glasses couldn’t entirely mask the devastating tilt of his eyes. In that instant, I suddenly understood exactly how to use my new ability.

Before I could react, however, a scoffing voice came from behind me.

“Professor Hawthorne, aren’t you afraid of soiling your hands by touching her?”

“She’s the kind of woman who sacrifices all shame just to net an engagement. The more attention you give her, the more excited she gets.”

Oh, that would be my cheap childhood friend, Jaxon Bell.

Rhys’s brow furrowed. He immediately let go of me, pulling out a crisp handkerchief to meticulously wipe the hand that had touched me. Only after he was satisfied that it was clean did he adjust his glasses, resuming his usual cold detachment.

The moment he turned away, Jax grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel. He hissed, “Don’t think I’m doing you a favor, Zara Scott.”

“I’ll settle the score with you once Serena is awake!”

The disgust in his eyes was authentic. Rhys’s disgust was just as real.

But I didn’t care. My eyes were fixed on Rhys’s retreating back.

The forbidden type. The most alluring thing about the forbidden type isn’t the handsome face. It’s the pristine, buttoned-up shirt and the trousers that are perfectly ironed, yet somehow… bulging.

I tapped the System. The inspiration was finally here.

“A wet dream is still a dream, right?”

3

After Serena woke up, I was forced to endure another long, pointless lecture from my parents before I finally made it to my favorite time: sleep.

The System informed me that my fiancé and my childhood friend had both gone to sleep. I immediately submitted the dream scenario I’d been editing all day.

Without waiting for its approval, I eagerly plunged into Rhys Hawthorne’s dream.

…

In a dimly lit laboratory, Rhys had been drugged and then restrained to a chair using what I could only describe as an “artistic” technique.

His shirt buttons remained meticulously fastened, right up to the hollow of his throat. Yet, no restraint could lock away the inferno of desire raging through him.

He was forced to lean his head back, panting raggedly.

Men, I thought, always sound better panting than singing.

I smiled in satisfaction and walked straight up to him.

He didn’t realize it was a dream. The moment he saw me, his brow knitted together in a furious knot. He swallowed the raw, nearly unmanageable panting and snapped, “Who gave you permission to enter my lab? Get out.”

I glanced down at his trousers and offered a kind suggestion:

“Are you sure you want me to leave, Professor Hawthorne?”

Rhys’s reason was being scorched away by the chemical heat in his veins. The drug-induced rapid thump of his heart hammered against his eardrums, making it hard to hear. But he refused to lose control in front of someone he hated. He ground his teeth, trying to endure it.

When he looked up, the woman he despised was still standing there. His aversion intensified. He finally looked down at the ropes and said, “Since you won’t leave, help me.”

Hearing that, I quietly pulled a small leather crop from behind my back and smiled, a smile as wicked as the devil’s own.

“Of course.”

He’d only asked for help, not specified what kind.

As his eyes glazed over, I snapped the whip across his chest, leaving a faint, pink-red line across his peck.

He didn’t see it coming. A suppressed groan escaped him, and his body trembled with a mixture of pain and heightened arousal.

When he realized what I’d done, rage twisted his face. “What are you doing!” he bellowed.

The System screamed in my mind:

【Stop! Host! With that one lash, Rhys Hawthorne’s favorability just dropped to -99.99!】

【I thought you were going to seduce him with a wet dream, not whip him!】

I ignored the System, looking down at Rhys with a dismissive smirk.

“What’s the shouting for? Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“If you didn’t enjoy it, why did you groan?”

Play a man’s game, leave him nowhere to go.

He stammered out “You…” repeatedly, unable to form a coherent sentence. He finally closed his eyes, stewing in silent fury.

I wasn’t about to give him a moment to recover.

The next snap of the whip landed precisely on a more sensitive spot: his lower abdomen.

Rhys gasped sharply, his entire body rigid for a long moment. When he finally calmed down, his ear tips were flushed crimson, but his eyes were clear again.

He narrowed them, fixing me with a cold stare.

“You’re the one who drugged me, aren’t you? What is it you want?”

“A few years ago, you maneuvered your way into my bed, and I gave you the engagement you wanted. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?”

I met his gaze, smirked, and lifted my foot, grinding my heel down on him until another guttural sound of discomfort escaped him. I traced the whip from his throat all the way to his abs. Then, I leaned in, breathing a light laugh against his ear.

“I want you to fall in love with me.”

“But I’ll let you off the hook for today. We’ll start tomorrow. Be sure to drive me to campus in the morning.”

“If you don’t show, we’ll continue this tomorrow night.”

I extracted myself from the dream, and the System immediately began a real-time broadcast of Rhys’s awakening.

The moment I left, he shot upright in bed, drenched in sweat. He rubbed his temples, full of self-loathing.

“Why would I dream of that woman? And that kind of dream?”

Rhys took several deep breaths. Finally calm, he got out of bed to change his clothes.

Hearing this, I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

“He got that worked up from just that? Did he soil his trousers already?”

“Is he that repressed? Maybe he has performance issues.”

The System sounded utterly defeated.

【Is this really okay?】

【Do you realize Rhys Hawthorne’s favorability was 0.01 away from hitting -100! At -100, you are eradicated!】

I didn’t answer, only asking casually, “What’s Rhys doing now?”

System: 【He changed his pants and went into the bathroom. Why?】

Me: “Keep reporting.”

【He’s been in the bathroom for 10 minutes. Still hasn’t come out.】

【20 minutes in the bathroom, still in there.】

【He’s out. Looks like he changed his pants again.】

“And what’s the favorability score now?”

The System was silent for a moment before replying:

【-79.99.】

【Congratulations, Host. Rhys Hawthorne’s favorability has increased by 20 points.】

4

Since I had two dream opportunities per night, I certainly wasn’t going to let Jax Bell slip away.

The Bell house was right next door to the Scott house, so the original me, Serena, and Jax grew up together. From the time we were children, no matter what happened between the Scott sisters, Jax always sided unconditionally with Serena.

However, after reviewing the original Zara’s memories, I realized Jax’s feelings for her were more complicated. Although he always publicly took Serena’s side, if Zara was hurt, he would secretly feel bad and sneak over to give her medicine. Then, the next time he listened to Serena and her friends gossip, he would immediately turn around and coldly mock Zara again.

Simply put, he was easily swayed and too quick to believe gossip.

So, to deal with this kind of clumsy, volatile boy, I didn’t need complicated schemes. I just needed to mess with his head.

The problem was that I’d spent too long with Rhys. Jax had already entered natural sleep, and it was too late to construct a new dream for him.

I had to barge right into whatever he was already dreaming.

His dream was set on a beach on a summer night. Under a shower of dazzling fireworks, a boy and a girl were sitting side by side on the sand. The girl, her face flushed, was shyly pulling something out, looking like she was confessing to Jax.

I took a closer look. It was Serena.

Of course. Even in his dreams, the guy is still wishing his crush would confess to him.

The confession ended, and Jax naturally leaned in to kiss Serena.

I smirked, snapped my fingers, and instantly replaced Serena with myself.

Unfortunately, just as the kiss was about to land, Jax’s eyes snapped open. The moment he saw me, he shot up, shocked into silence.

“You… why are you here?”

“How did you get into my dream?”

I pulled him back down, gently tracing the outline of his ear. I laughed softly. “Why wouldn’t it be me?”

“Didn’t you just accept my confession? Weren’t you just about to kiss me?”

He violently pushed me away, putting distance between us. His face was a mask of repulsion as he sneered at me.

“You? Are you kidding? If it were you, I wouldn’t even let you finish the confession!”

“I was going to kiss Serena. She was just here… Wait!”

He suddenly figured it out, his eyes widening.

“This is a dream! I must be dreaming!”

“Why else would Serena’s face change to yours in the blink of an eye?”

“It has to be a dream!”

I rested my chin in my hand, watching him with interest. “If it’s a dream, doesn’t the fact that my face replaced Serena’s at the most crucial moment of the kiss prove that you like me?”

“Unless you’re thinking about me constantly, why would I appear in your dream?”

“I bet you even have a picture of me taped above your bed, don’t you?”

I was only joking, but he reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He instantly exploded, yelling at me, “Zara Scott, don’t be delusional!”

“I would rather like a dog, or a pig, than you!”

“I haven’t forgotten what you did to Serena, or what you did to Professor Hawthorne.”

“I hate desperate, pathetic women who chase men like you!”

The moment the words left his mouth, I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him.

The instant our lips met, I saw his pupils flicker. He was so pure. Was this his first kiss?

He appeared to be completely frozen. Before he could react, I leaned my forehead against his. My fingers slid down the side of his face to his throat, and then traced slow circles on his chest, continuing the mental attack.

“Am I really the delusional one?”

“You know I love boys with a citrus-soda scent, the athletic type. So why do you wear that gray athletic hoodie every single day, spray that orange-zest cologne, and walk around me all the time?”

“There are so many colors for sweatpants, yet you constantly show up in those thin gray ones. What’s the message you’re trying to send?”

“Wearing clothes that provocative, isn’t that just trying to lure me in?”

My finger trailed over his chest and lingered briefly on his abs. I smiled in satisfaction.

“Look. You still haven’t pushed me away.”

“Are you still going to tell me you don’t like me?”

Following the path of my finger, his eyes dropped to his own pants, and his face instantly turned a deep crimson.

Before he could pull away in furious embarrassment, I placed a feather-light kiss on his lips again. Then, I leaned close to his ear and whispered:

“Jaxon Bell, you like me.”

“If you don’t believe me, check if I’m still in your dreams for the next few nights.”

…

Mission accomplished. I dissolved into a wisp of smoke, leaving the dream.

The System applauded in my head.

【The Master of Mind Games, truly. But you might have failed this time.】

【Jax looked easily fooled in the dream, but his favorability score hasn’t budged at all.】

I chuckled, leaning back calmly. “Check what he does when he wakes up.”

The System, skeptical, opened the mental surveillance feed for me. It watched with me, narrating enthusiastically.

【Hahaha, he ripped up the photo of the three of you on his bedside table!】

【Wait, he really did have your photo at his bedside! How did you guess that?】

【He looks so angry, he’s rubbing his hair into a bird’s nest and jumping off the bed.】

【He just smashed that bottle of orange-zest cologne!】

【Oh? He’s calming down now.】

【He’s sitting on the edge of the bed… touching his lips?】

【…Congratulations, Host. Jaxon Bell’s favorability has increased by 50 points.】

【Current favorability: -49.】

5

Unlike Jax, highly intelligent individuals like Rhys Hawthorne weren’t so easily fooled.

The 20 points of favorability that spiked after the dream due to a rush of hormones immediately dropped by 10 points once he was fully awake.

Naturally, he didn’t take the dream seriously and didn’t show up to drive me to campus the next morning.

Since he was going to be stubborn, I wouldn’t let him off the hook in the dream world.

Over the next few days, I tried almost every stimulating fantasy item I could think of on him: candles, whips, dog chains, electrical stimulation devices—the works. Every morning, I would end the dream by reminding him to come to the Scott house.

But he was too rooted in his scientific rationality. He refused to believe there could be any link between a dream and reality.

It took a full week before he finally arrived at our door, looking like he was just testing a hypothesis.

I don’t know if it was because I’d gone too far in the dreams, but he looked genuinely haggard after a week of my nocturnal torment.

However, I still underestimated the depth of his hatred for me.

Having come all this way, he bypassed me entirely. He quickly walked over to Serena, who had just stepped outside, and gently helped her stand. He offered her a tender smile.

“Serena, how is your recovery progressing?”

“My schedule isn’t heavy today, and the city’s premier Music Conservatory is on my way to the lab. I thought I’d give you a ride.”

Serena was a piano major at the conservatory, which was indeed more convenient than my school.

But did he have to be so openly antagonistic? Did he think the dreams meant the opposite of what I said?

Serena’s eyes were filled with surprise. As she leaned into Rhys, she seemed to remember something and cautiously glanced at me.

“Are you only taking me? What about my sister?”

“After all… she is your fiancée.”

Rhys instinctively looked at me too.

However, the moment our eyes met, he flinched as if burned, a quick shudder running through him. The tips of his ears instantly flushed crimson. He blinked rapidly, deliberately breaking eye contact.

Noticing his overly intense reaction, he lowered his gaze, a hint of self-loathing flickering across his face. He spoke coldly, “Ignore her. Let’s go.”

I watched, amused, as he quickly ushered a confused Serena into the car and drove away. I turned to the System.

“What was that about, Rhys?”

The System checked the favorability history but couldn’t explain it either.

【I don’t know. His favorability has been all over the place. Up 20 in the dream, down 10 when he wakes up.】

【But his score is already up to -9.99. He shouldn’t be so cold to you anymore.】

【Could he be… embarrassed?】

Embarrassed, is it?

Then let’s up the ante!

“System, does he have a habit of taking a nap?”

【Yes. His research is very taxing, so he usually takes a short nap in his lab after lunch.】

I sneered. “Then at noon, increase the dosage!”