I, a Mental Patient, Was Chosen to Participate in AnalogHorror - Chapter 462 - 428: Steel Egg: Don’t Blame Her, Blame Myself

“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.

I transmigrated into the world of an urban novel.Bai Zhou couldn’t help but complain: “Why is it that other people either become the protagonist or the big villain, and I end up as a small lackey under a villain?”However, Bai Zhou soon realized that the feeling of “bullying others by relying on power” was actually quite enjoyable. Even if someone sought revenge, it would all fall on his “boss.”How comfortable is that?So, Bai Zhou decided to continue down the path of “bullying others by relying on power.”But soon, things started to spiral out of control:“Sister-in-law … does big bro know you’re doing this? I’m just a driver!”“No, big bro, you’re my big bro! Can you stand up and talk? Stop kneeling!”“Oh man, old master, you’re the local emperor of Shanghai! Why are you offering tribute to me?!”

Kazuki’s life was painfully average—just another cog in the nine-to-five grind. His only escape? Binge-reading novels and no-lifing video games.Then he woke up inside one of those novels.Armed with unstable morals, unhinged humor, and a penchant for pettiness, Kazuki is determined to survive, thrive, and maybe cause a little chaos along the way.The world has no idea what’s coming.