It Turns Out I am a Dao Ancestor - Chapter 392

In this world, there are those that are fortunate and those who are not.

Ethan Bellrose is neither; he is cursed. At nineteen, he has lived his entire life sheltered in his home as his fragile body blisters under sunlight, breaks under the slightest impact, and falls to any sickness.

However, the arrival of a world-changing digital service catches the hopeless young man’s eye: “Reincarnation Online”--a virtual reality experience that gives a new fantastical life to those who are unfulfilled with their current path.

For Ethan Bellrose, the choice is simple. Without hesitation, he orders the virtual reality headgear, choosing to abandon his current life and live forevermore in the world of fantasy, magic, and endless adventure–”Arcadius.”

Though what he finds is a world not full of leisure and trivial triumph, but a world just as alive and full of darkness, glory, and grandeur as Earth–if not greater.

Starting from square one as an infant, given a new name and family, this is the eventful life, full of dreadful lows and exhilarating highs, of “Emilio Dragonheart.”

[...Booting System…]

[Welcome to Reincarnation Online.]

[You will henceforth by the recipient of the Dragonheart System.]

[Please, enjoy your stay.]

“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.

What would you do if you found out you're really a dragon?What if you found out magic is real?What if the guy who just saved your life is actually really cute, has a big sword and runs a small business granting wishes?!Misha Long knew moving countries would be a big deal, but he had no idea how big until things start going wrong. Very wrong.But he isn't alone.By his side is the enigmatic Bran D'Arcy, magic master and sword slinger. For Misha, it's an exciting new world he's stumbled into.But for all the wonder and beauty in it there's a danger lurking in the magic, an old evil that won't just threaten him and those he loves, but the entire world.Oh, and he now has a tail.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.