One Hundred Years As An Extra - Chapter 142

After being bound to a self-help system, Xia Changhan lived in deep water every day.

System: You have to counterattack and fight beautifully!

Xia Changhan: No, I can’t do it.

System: You can hook up with the scum’s backer, such as his mother/his sister/his fiancee/his boss/his second uncle‘s sister!

Xia Changhan: No, I can’t do it.

System: Perform well or your wage will be deducted.

Xia Changhan: I will work hard!

Xia Changhan was repeatedly commended by the leader of the Space-Time Bureau.

When imparting experience to new colleagues at the year-end meeting, she burst into tears: “I only have three words for everyone- do it yourself!”

- Description from Novelupdates

[R18 novel with a lot of sexual content]Artem never expected to take on the role of a villain, let alone transmigrate between harem novels. Bound by a system, his task is clear: steal the heroines from all the protagonists’. From Chinese Cultivation and Korean Gate to Japanese Isekai Fantasy, VRMMORPG, and beyond—no heroine is off-limits, and no protagonist is safe!

Zhang Beixuan, who transmigrated into a parallel world, became a Daoist Purple Robed Celestial Master.Before the old Celestial Master passed away, he arranged a marriage for him, instructing him to share his bridal chamber with a thousand-year-old fox spirit.As Zhang Beixuan was utterly confused about the meaning of this, the next day, he received the fox spirit’s dowry and marriage contract.Ding! The Daoist Prosperity System has been activated. Since the host has bound to it for the first time, it offers a divine-level choice once!Option One: Refuse the thousand-year fox spirit face-to-face and self-castrate, making it clear that he will never agree to the bridal chamber. Reward: [Fiercest Celestial Master Plaque] [Thousand-Year Fox Spirit Essence]Option Two: Escape now, never to return to the mountains, with the reward of [Top-Quality Youthful Essence, Maintaining Vitality and Power, Cultivation Speed of a Thousand Miles in a Day] .Option Three: Who cares about fox spirits, snake spirits, or female ghosts? If I don’t enter hell, who will? Reward: [Savior of All Beings Title] [Hundred-Year Cultivation] [Golden Light Spell Max Level] [Celestial Master Daoist Robe]Zhang Beixuan looked at the options and silently picked up the dowry on the ground.“Let it be a fox spirit, at least she’s a female.”

“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.