All-rounder Artist - Chapter 1294 - 1078: The First Generation Cute King

Author : Kinugasa ShougoIllustrator : TomoseshunsakuAs Ayanokouji and his classmates begin their second year at the Advanced Nurturing High School, they're greeted by a fresh gauntlet of exams and a fresh batch of rather unique first-year students. They'll have to get to know each other quickly, because the first special exam pairs the first-years with the second-years on a written test--with only the second-years facing expulsion if their team performs poorly! Worse yet? It seems one of the new first-years is also from the White Room. Can Ayanokouji avoid expulsion while sussing out the identity of this hidden foe?

Traversing worlds with the Immortal Sword slaying demons, it was not until a monkey who claimed to be the Monkey King appeared before Lu Yu that he realized he had come to the world of Journey to the West. Striving for supremacy along the Human Path, the secrets of Journey to the West unrevealed, cutting off heaven and earth, the Three Realms were isolated.

Chu Mu Yun relied on his story of 《Demon Realm》 to become a one-hit wonder in JJWXC, but the him who had written seven mental cases to abuse seven mental cases to death would never have expected that he himself would transmigrate into this shitty novel!
What the hell is this system on the bracelet?
And what the hell is this either propose to seven men, or suffer the taste of a tragic death experience under the hands of these seven people?
I just wanted to write a novel to satisfy my bad interests, who would actually want to get tangled up with a bunch of mad dog sad*st crazies?

- Description from Novelupdates

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.