Great primordial sin - Chapter 4 - 3

I was sixteen when the gods abandoned me.The Blessing Ritual was supposed to grant me power, a divine gift to carve my future. Instead, I received nothing. No abilities. No hope. Just another nameless soul left to rot in a world ruled by strength.Fine. If the gods wouldn’t bless me, I’d make my own power.For ten years, I clawed my way forward, experimenting with forces no human should touch. I pushed too far—and it killed me.Then I woke up.Sixteen again. Back at the Ritual. But this time, something changed.Time bends at my will. Blood moves when I command it.The gods still won’t acknowledge me, but it doesn’t matter. This world isn’t fair, and I’ve stopped playing by its rules. Faith and Chaos clash in my veins, and I will use them both.They wanted a Chosen Hero, someone to dance to their tune.Well, too bad for them—I’ll carve my own fate.

Everyone had the right to choose his or her life. Maybe many people wanted to live an ordinary life, but Qin Sheng didn’t want to be a mediocre man. He had practiced martial arts under the guidance of his grandfather in the Zhongnan Mountains since he was a child. After two years’ wandering life, he decided to settle in Shanghai, so he contacted Han Guoping, a rich businessman, and took the job as his daughter’s safeguard. He thought that he only needed to protect Han Bing. However, things seemed more complicated. He got to know that Han Guoping offended a powerful figure and his life might be in danger. What would Qin Sheng do to help the Han family? Would he turn the tables?

After transmigrating to Hong Huang and becoming a minor shaman in Hou Tu’s tribe, Chu Xuan shocked everyone by repeatedly offering poisonous plans in order to avoid becoming Cannon Fodder in the Great Calamity.Who would have thought? The poisonous plans were incredibly effective.The Demon Clan established the Heavenly Court and united countless races?Chu Xuan: Establish the path of the Heavenly Tribulation and share the power with the Heavenly Court. From now on, all beings must undergo the tribulation!In Zixiao Palace, it was said that those without Primordial Spirits couldn’t listen to the Dao?Chu Xuan: Create the path of the Heavenly Demon as a tribulation for Primordial Spirits. All who possess one will suffer!During the war between the Wu race and Demons, countless souls were left with no place to go, and the Calamity Qi of heaven and earth ran rampant. Who asked Hou Tu to reincarnate?Chu Xuan: If you don’t work hard in your cultivation, you’ll end up as brothers in the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.…Chu Xuan: I have a plan that can completely resolve the Great Calamity of the Demons and Wu races!Hou Tu: Chu Xuan, calm down first. Things haven’t come to that point yet.

“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.