In a Different World with a Smartphone - Chapter 2: Awaken and a Different World

Traveling through a parallel world, Ye Cheng planned to be a copywriter and copy tomb robbing novels, but he became a gold medal writer in one fell swoop.

But who would have imagined that, with the unearthed ancient tombs, Ye Cheng’s novels have become reality.

Numerous archaeological teams rushed to ask for advice.

As a result, as Ye Cheng solved more and more ancient tombs, he couldn’t explain it more and more!

…

- Description from novelbuddy

Alexis an outcast, a “Hunted” yet able to hide under their noses, desiring to live at every cost. Even if it meant pretending to be a man.But she was also once one of the moon goddess’s three pillars. She was in charge of assigning mates, but her curiosity into what it would feel like to have a mate, to fall in love was considered a breach of rules.The goddess’s three pillars do not fall in love! It was forbidden.So she was sentenced, removed and reduced to the status of a mere werewolf. Her memories were wiped and she no longer knew what she once was, not even after her rebirth.In a world of werewolves where shifting was a must, what would happen to her? A girl who never shifted? Never manifested.What would she do now, suddenly having found herself struck with a heat cycle—something she had never once experienced. She was abnormal, never manifested, yet, there she stood in the middle of hundreds of guests drowning in her sudden heat that one way or the other drew his attention.Keelion Fane. The one who should have never known.He is the leader of the pack, but he is feared—said to be cold-hearted and cruel. He is an alpha who hasn’t found his mate for so long that he had no choice but to find a substitute.But Alexis was stuck. With nowhere to run, in his grasp.She…was doomed.

Forced to face how vast and dangerous the universe really is, Desmond decides to seize the opportunity to gain the power he needs to protect what he loves, for his own world is far from safe. Traveling through various worlds, Desmond gathers treasures and powers, gradually discovering the dark secrets that lie behind the false tranquility.

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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.