Dungeon of Pride, Laplace - Chapter 916- Location of the Heart (2)

There were five heroes who fought against Erebos, the primordial evil that drove the world to the brink of destruction. [Brave] Aron. [God’s Blacksmith] Dweno. [The Founder of the Nebula] Luna. [King of Wisdom] Risinas. Lastly, me [The Hero of Beginning] Kyle. When I was reincarnated 5000 years later, everyone was praised as a Legendary hero. “Except me.” A gift from God that records the achievements of heroes. The Hero Academy with Hero Records. Let’s go there and find out why.

In his first life, Victor was lazy, poor, and the ultimate gambler, but the Goddess of Envy gave him a chance.

[ Die and go back four years into the past to restart your life. ]

Victor lost all hope and killed himself, and so began his second and also the most miserable life.

He became rich and successful but soon his girlfriend betrayed him and took away all his fortune, having decided on a desperate act Victor came up with a plan to avenge himself.

Although his plan was successfully executed, Victor hoped that this time he would die once for all and forget the despair that followed him through his two lifetimes.

Yet as if to deny him of his salvation, he suddenly heard a feminine voice once again, but a different one this time.

[ Goddess of Lust, surprised by your actions, grants you a gift ]

[ Yandere system activated! ]

It was a turning point for Victor.

From now on whether it is a Goddess, a Vampire or a Succubus, no matter who it is I must seduce you or I will surely die this time!

[Warning: The title might be named this way, but we’re actually NOT on hiatus.]I’m a third-rate writer, Yu Il-Shin.So don’t think that I’m actually a god; it’s just a name.One day, I experienced the much-anticipated awakening, but my newfound skill was… kinda weird?…In the small world connected through my mobile phone where the little, weak ants were getting killed regarded me as their god?

“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.