Punished by his hidden love - Chapter 18 - Negotiation

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

“Nano Mashin?”

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

Qin Hao crossed into a parallel world and unexpectedly inherited the position of the current Celestial Master of the Qingyun Mountain Celestial Master's Mansion.Draped in purple robes, holding the authority of the Xuanmen sect.Bound to the Super Celestial Master System, he could earn different rewards every day by completing designated tasks.Organizing Taoist scriptures, he received the reward [Taiping Qi Technique]!Cleaning the main hall, he received the reward [Innate Golden Light Curse]!Sweeping the mountain gate, he received the reward [Soaring Immortal Step]!Pruning flowers and plants, he received the reward [Innate Yimu Qi Capture Technique]!Wiping the statues of the Three Pure Ones, he received the reward [Righteous Thunder Law]!...He thought he could live peacefully without trouble, but unexpectedly, a photo that went viral online pushed him into the spotlight.A self-proclaimed fighting champion and male live streamer entered Qingyun Mountain, claiming to seek a man in purple robes for a challenge.A match of martial arts.The live stream was filled with over a million enthusiastic viewers.They supported the male live streamer in exposing a fraud, wondering whether the rumored Celestial Master in purple was truly as powerful as said.Under the watchful eyes of the public, Qin Hao reluctantly accepted the challenge.Qin Hao asked, 'Fellow practitioner, what shall we compare?'The male live streamer smiled confidently: 'I've heard the Celestial Master in purple is unmatched in martial arts; I have practiced free combat since I was young and have specifically come to learn something from you!'Qin Hao shook his head: 'Martial arts, I do not know.''What do you know then?' the male live streamer asked.Qin Hao unleashed a palm strike into the air, condensing the five thunders within his palm, and with a mighty slash.Golden thunder transformed into a blade of qi, slicing directly at the challenger. The thunder left in its wake split the 'Challenge the Celestial Master' plaque that the male live streamer had brought, right in front of the mountain gate, into two halves.Qin Hao said with a smile: 'I know thunder spell!!'

This is the story of a modern man who transmigrates to 16th-century India in a parallel world after dying to save his first crush on a date. He regresses as a lowly-ranked soldier in the camp of Hemu, the last northern Hindu king, who is fated to lose and die at the hands of the Mughals.With his modern knowledge and past experiences, the protagonist alters the course of history, forcing the Mughals to surrender and retreat beyond the Ravi River, which is in modern-day Pakistan.As a reward, he is granted trading rights and becomes the emperor’s personal attendant. Using this opportunity, he sets out to reshape the empire. By promoting private enterprise, establishing trading company, and creating opportunities for the lower communities, he begins to shift India’s economy away from the feudal system toward modern capitalism.Despite fierce opposition, these reforms not only unify the majority of Indians but also position the empire as a rising power in global commerce, transforming India into an economic force.His journey is filled with trials, including internal turmoil, political strife, and the looming threat of invasion from the Mughals in the west and the Dutch and Portuguese in the south. As the emperor’s trusted aide, the protagonist not only rescues the crumbling empire but also forges his own path, eventually claiming the title of emperor himself.Join him on this incredible journey of empire's ascension, as he explores how India could have been in the 16th century if history had taken a different course. With just one battle's result, the fate of the entire world is transformed.

“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.