Pokémon Court - Chapter 223: Retreat

Ysavel, an aspiring writer, wakes up one day inside the world of her own novel. She thought it's those typical transmigration story she have read. However, she was shock when she discovers that she's been cast as the villainess in her own story.

“DON'T TELL ME I BECOME THE VILLAINESS OF MY OWN STORY?!”

Shocked and dismayed, she realizes that the only way to return to the real world is to live out her role in the story. Initially, she accepts this fate, but things take an unexpected turn when the characters start deviating from the script.

“I don't want another Queen. Youare the only one I want as my Queen, Csille.” Prince Fraser whispered.

The male lead, who was expected to be annoyed by her constant pestering, instead becomes affectionate and attached to her.

“It's inevitable, Lady Lauretré. You will still be the Queen, so I don't see any harm in what I said. Besides, I doubt the King or even the Crown Prince would be willing to change their minds about your engagement.”

The female lead, who was supposed to separate the male lead from her, begins to play matchmaker between the male lead and the villainess.

What should she do? She couldn't get back to the real world if she didn't finished the story as the villainess. But how can she finished it if the two leads are not following the script? Help!!!

“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.

A madman's journey up the towers.These are the ironclad rules of the Three Towers Game in the eyes of others:1: Do not create killings in the Tower of Desire. The Tower of Desire is a tower full of love; please climb it with love.2: Killing is the only pass for the Slaughter Tower. All creatures in the Slaughter Tower are enemies of humanity; do not try to communicate with the monsters.3: Stay away from the Deceit Tower, and happiness will be abundant.These are the ironclad rules of the Three Towers Game in the eyes of Wen Xishu:1: The Tower of Desire is full of sheep that won't kill.2: The monsters in the Slaughter Tower are powerful and reliable, truly a camp of righteous fathers.3: I absolutely love the Deceit Tower.

“Is this really a f*cking cannon fodder counterattack system???” Zhou ZiRuo transmigrated into a game and became a shapeshifting, cannon fodder, baby fox demon.

As a new (male) fox demon, he thought his task was only to counterattack the gold-fingered, peerless, super explosively cool, iceberg protagonist.

But why did the iceberg protagonist seem like he was possessed by a death god, with NPCs dropping dead left and right everywhere he went?

Why must he help the protagonist investigate the incidents or else the counterattack percentage would fall through the floor, leading to his death?

As Zhou ZiRou wearily investigated the supernatural cases, at the same time, he walked down the grand path of counterattacking the protagonist and kicking him to the curb.

Yet no one knew that under the iceberg protagonist’s calm and proper exterior was a heart that was both kuudere and wicked.

System: Congratulations! The counterattack was successful!

Zhou ZiRou: You motherf*cker, you never said that I’d counterattack into the role of the female lead ahhh!!!

- Description from Novelupdates