Player who Returned 10,000 years Later - Chapter 13: Promotion (2)

In a world where magic was abundant and supernatural creatures existed, Jin Valter lived as a fallen genius. Being the son of two A-Ranked Hunters, Jin had inherited his father’s keen eye for martial arts and his mother’s innate talent for magic. Alas, before Jin could reach his full potential, an Outer Demon attack left his soul crippled and his body weakened beyond repair.

Now, Jin lives out his days bound to the hospital bed with nothing but his brains to keep him company. Gone were the days when his peers hailed him as a genius as he struggled to even conjure a spell with his body falling apart.

However, it would all change when on the Night of the Blood Moon, a unique visitor paid him a visit…

Once time travels, Wei Han awakens the immortality system!

In this dangerous and mysterious world, he decided to live forever!

“What’s the point of fighting and killing? Isn’t it nice to hang up?”

“Enemy? Doesn’t exist! As long as we cut the grass and roots, I have no enemies!”

“Exposed? Impossible! As long as no one is left alive, no one will know how strong I am!”

The sun and the moon are flying like a shuttle, and the sea is changing!

With a cautious heart, Wei Han silently walked alone on the road to longevity.

A rare martial arts wizard in a thousand years?

The rare immortal cultivator?

Suppress the eternal holy land of immortals?

After all, it is no match for the passage of time and burial!

Only Wei Han sat and watched the wind and clouds surge, and finally became invincible in the world!

- Description from novelbuddy

He returned with a vigorous presence, equipped with a Heaven-reaching Innate Ability. He could heal, tell fortunes, refine medicines, set formations, and refine talismans… “There’s nothing in this world that I can’t do!” — Shen Feng.

“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.