Legend of Fu Yao - Chapter 329 - Untitled

Samuel, a high schooler, got summoned with his classmates to another world as prophesied heroes. He expected glory, adventure, and a chance to save a kingdom. But those hopes were shattered when he discovered the truth, they were sacrifices, the gods who summoned them are no saviors, but monsters that feed on human souls. Among the victims is his little sister, dragged into the summoning by accident while she was delivering his lunch. Betrayed and marked for sacrifice, Samuel survives andmade a deal with (Arithmos) the God of war, with its power, he now vows to destroy every god and declares to take everything from them.

When fantasy becomes reality, Will the heavenly blessed youth be able to make his way to the end of the deity’s road?

Chen Ang who has the ability to transmigrate found himself in the fantasy world.

In the “Never Ending” world, He obtained the wisdom of a superhero.

In the “Super Body” world, He glimpsed into the mysteries of godhood.

From the world of ‘’Proud Jianghu” onwards, He practiced internal strength, evolving his body.

Through the “Calamity of Python Madness”, He obtained the key to longevity.

Superhero serum, Impasse drug, Factor X, Spider gene, And the lizard drug.

He consumed these illegal drugs to reach the end of the deity’s road, Such a road is long and full of slopes.

After facing the difficulties and danger to spy on God’s forbidden region,

He doesn’t have any regret doing so!

- 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.