I Don't Agree to the Terms - Chapter 402 - 227: Blood Poison, An Unfulfilled Calamity

Mu Qing was struck by lightning and ended up traveling to the prehistory, 10,000 years in the past, where she began her days of cohabitation with ancient people ……

They were simple and thus perseverant; they were primitive but filled with affection; they were waiting for civilization but already wise beyond measure.

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Blue Star has entered the extraordinary era, everything is evolving, and monsters are rampant.

Humans awaken their star souls in evolution to fight against raging monsters.

Zhou Xuan, who was doing odd jobs in the Demon Town Tower, accidentally awakened to an unscientific sign-in system.

Sign in on the ancient desolate beast and gain the power of the wild. Sign in on the weed spirit, and the star soul evolves into the nine-leaf sword grass.

The thousand-year black turtle, the ten thousand-year sea king, the immortal true phoenix, and the sky-swallowing dragon have all become the targets of his registration.

There are countless monsters in the Demon Suppressing Tower, Zhou Xuan signed in silently, and if he was not careful, he would be invincible.

- Description from novelbuddy

Chu Qing transmigrates to a world where women hold all the power. In this matriarchal society, men are judged solely on their looks, while women are expected to provide for their families. Men are only considered eligible for marriage if they have good virtues, while women must possess a house and a car to be considered desirable. Even worse, women who are financially supported by men are accused of being freeloaders, and some women are known to prey on younger men.

As the “school belle,” Chu Qing is frustrated by these rigid social norms. He believes that a man’s true worth comes from inner strength and character, not just physical appearance. With his ability to cultivate immortality, he sets out to prove that men can be powerful and valuable in their own right, challenging the status quo in this matriarchal society!

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“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.