God of Illusions - Chapter 893: Familiarizing or Probing?

Billions of people around the world were transmigrated to the game world of “Shining Era.” Everyone became lords and possessed their own land.

They recruited troops, gathered resources, occupied mines, attacked cities and built up their empires.

In this world of lords, the most important resource was the troop lairs where they could recruit troops.

However, the potential of these lairs was fixed. If anyone wanted to obtain a top-level troop, they could only do so by defeating powerful wild troops and occupying their lairs.

However, Richard discovered that he could actually improve the level of troop lairs directly.

From then on, various powerful troops were groomed by him.

When the other players were still leaping with joy from obtaining a high-level troop, behind Richard were a Desert Pharoah, a Demonic Scorpion King, a Mechanical Giant, a Demon Baron, a Blood Archduke, a Five-colored Evil Dragon, and a Fallen Angel.

From that day on, a prosperous and dazzling oasis city was established in the desert. As for Richard, he became the ruler of the desert.

The sky was painted gray forever. The light of the sun was restrained. The darkness of the night was deeper than ever. At such a time, he belonged to a class people didn’t even recognize as ’human’. He was at the bottom of the social stratum, a slave. And when his only family was taken away from him... he no longer had a purpose in life. Yet, he clung to life because of his promise. And he set an impossible goal for himself, just so he’d have an excuse to live. When he finally reached a place he never expected to be, in pursuit of a purpose he expected to fail and die miserably trying to fulfill... he awoke to a night that would change his entire life. He was an insignificant fly, a mere speck in the destruction of the Empire. But he... survived. And, despite being a slave, he gained the blessing of a king. Or rather, the curse...

“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.

Despite gifted with extraordinary talent, I resented my life being cut short.One day, fueled by alcohol, I penned a proposal letter to a princess, hoping to alter my fate.[Sure. I’d love to marry you.]…What? She’s accepting?The problem is, I proposed to all five tyrant princesses.And to make matters worse, I have no clue which one responded.