Greatest Streamer System - Chapter 138 - – Naahh, No way!

The Barren Continent, where martial arts are supreme, and strength is honored above all.The once-in-an-era prodigy, Ye Chen, came forth with the ancient and unparalleled divine technique. He cultivated his martial veins, survived the thunder tribulation, merged with the spirit blood of true beings, and shook the six harmonies and the eight desolations with his martial prowess. He roamed the myriad realms and heavens, fighting across the world with the secret realm of billions of stars that were eternal and undying!An endless trove of treasures, worlds of bizarre wonders, sects, ancient clans, fairies, witches, friendships and enmities, and heated battles—all of it was contained therein.

Valhǫll, a fantasy game with a touch of modernity.I thought I’d give it one last try with the rewards of achievements.I acquired extraordinary traits like [Death Avoidance], [Ironman], [Winds], traits I wouldn’t have chosen in ordinary circumstances.But I should have never started.I fell into a game where reaching the ending seemed impossible.With the body of an orphan wandering the market alleys.[Devil’s Blood], [Worst Condition], [Eccentric Actions], [Mysophobia].Plus burdened with hidden penalty traits.“Damn it.”Can I survive?No. I must survive, no matter what it takes.

Year 2056, in a city in the Yuan Jiang Su Jin area. On top of a ruined, shattered six story residential apartment sits a teenager wearing a combat vest, militaristic trousers, and alloyed battle boots. On his back is a hexagonal shield and equipped is a blood-shadow battle knife. He sits there silently on the edge of the roof. At this time, the sparkling sky was shining and there was a refreshing breath within the air that blew towards him. However, there was only silence within the ruined, deserted city, with an occasional howl that makes your heart skip a beat.

- 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.