The Chronicles of the Immortal God - Chapter 44: I told you so

The nuclear holocaust which caused the collapse of the Old Times on Earth should have wiped out all human life on the planet. Yes, the gods set up their beautiful Elysiums to provide sanctuaries for their chosen, but by all rights everyone outside the elysian lands should’ve perished long ago. Yet somehow, human life still managed to persist, even in the deadly, mutant-infested wastelands.

Cloudhawk was a young scavenger who dreamed of being as free as the hawks in the skies, yet seemed destined to live out his life scrounging for scraps in the wasteland ruins. Fate, however, is ever-fickle. A chance meeting with a ragtag group of mercenaries changed the trajectory of his life, bringing him into a world with mutants and metahumans, demonhunters and godslayers, and even gods and demons. Cloudhawk would find his own place in a world that was far greater than he had imagined, find his own path between the zealous light of Sumeru and the whispering darkness of the Abyss… and one day, he would find that even gods may fall.

There’s a trend infecting stories lately—all because of boys reading these stories rather than men.Villains who think being “dark” means having dead eyes, a tragic past, and a dick that solves all problems.They get betrayed once, and suddenly it's their life's mission to destroy the world—or worse, emotionally blackmail heroines in the name of “revenge.”Slap on a black coat, stare at walls, say something like “love is weakness”—and boom, readers start calling them “deep.”But let’s be honest:> They’re not villains. They’re just edgy losers with a god complex and a hard-on trying to satisfy the inferiority of their readers.Some of them turn so cold, they forget why they started. Others get so lust-drunk, they think sleeping with a heroine is “domination.”That making her cry is “control.” They think power is measured by how many women they can ruin. But really?> They’re just boys trying to look like men.Just like their followers who are the boys who hide their masculinity inside a woman's virginity.They go around in the review section asking if the women of the main character would be stolen and all... giving it fantasy names like NTR and all nonsense.As if they want to scream their fear out.“Please don't, I hate it... because I am a gay who doesn't even have the confidence that my woman will remember me once she gets someone better....” one of the loser’s internal thoughts.They don't want their puny hearts to be crushed.Their masculinity is so weak that it crumbles the moment they think about some other man having the women they love and her forgetting those boys for the men.And they just project that weakness of themselves in their main characters, thinking that just like them, their main characters should be weak, should be a fantasy monger who hoards women like trying to hide the incapabilities of those followers who never in their life would have held a hand of a woman.Harem has now become a way to satisfy weak audiences who feel more women mean more security for their hearts.Forgetting that Harem in truth means the masculinity is so HUGE that it needs an ocean of FEMININE to hold.Tch, not like the boys with breakups and fear of being cucked will ever realize.They treat fantasy as escape and character as their way to feel that they are men.So, naturally, to have such a huge amount of followers, authors are forced to pour the density of such books holding such weak characters in the form of the cold MC who collects harem, manipulates one or two, fucks around, and finally satisfies readers until they feel bored and drop the book....Because to those followers, they themselves realize in the long run that the story isn't satisfying even if the villain is the same cruel man.So why?Simply because they were until now reading kind boys wearing the mask of a man, and acting as a villain.Their MC, just like them, doesn't even know themselves, their needs, and what their inner soul wants... not understanding that...Fucking a woman doesn't make you her god. Breaking her spirit doesn't make you a king. And calling yourself a villain just because you were too weak to heal?That’s not power—that’s coping.And for followers—that's doping.Real villains? They don’t whine. They don’t treat women like checkboxes or trophies. They don’t mistake lust for legacy.> They don’t need to act cruel. They are cruel. Calm. Focused. Dangerous in silence. They don’t need to chase power—they embody it.This story isn’t about a guy who gets played and suddenly thinks he’s entitled to vengeance sex.This is about a villain who doesn’t....Ah, screw this shit. Just read the story already![ No Dumb Heroines ] [ No Cliche Plot ] [ Original Content ] [ Fan Services here and there ] [ R-18 might not come soon enough ] [ Yandere ] [ Tsundere ] [ MILF ] [ Dragon ] [ Elves ]

“You dragged me into this world. Now you kneel in it.” — Tim SlokovBy day, Tim Slokov was a quiet office drone. By night, a ruthless online critic of fantasy novels. But when a mysterious force transmigrates him into the dying body of an elven outcast—doomed and powerless—Tim realizes he’s become the tragic background character of someone else’s story.Only he refuses to die quietly.Denied justice, Tim is granted a single gift: the Shattered Necromancy System, a broken power fueled by death itself.[Seek Me, O Death — Passive]: Every kill becomes a servant. Every soul feeds his army.[Death Embrace — Active]: He becomes what he commands—gaining the power of his dead.[Arise — Active]: The battlefield becomes his stage, where his fallen rise again.Armed with cursed power, Tim must evolve himself—and his ever-growing legion of the dead—to claw his way up a world that wants him erased. But vengeance is only the beginning. As his strength grows, so does the truth behind his forced arrival... and the god-like force that wants him broken.Tim isn’t here to play the hero.He’s here to rewrite fate—one death at a time.

“Block him.”“He's technically still my boss.”“Then block him with dignity.”The call ended again.And then started again.I let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob, then finally answered with the enthusiasm of a snail crawling through salt.“Yes, Mr. Walton?”“Have you changed your mind yet?”I collapsed onto the towel and gazed at the sky as though it might consume me entirely if I pleaded sweetly enough.“Do you ever take a break?” I asked, shielding my eyes with one hand.“You're avoiding the question.”“Because it's a dumb question.”He exhaled, the sound sharp and irritated even over phone. “It's not a dumb question. It's a business offer.”“It's a weird offer-one that I already said no to.”There was a brief pause, and I could practically hear him clenching his jaw through the speaker.“You are acting unreasonably.”“ Unreasonable?” I sat up. “I'm not the one drafting fake girlfriend contracts like it's a normal Tuesday.”“Isabella-”“Certainly not, Mr. Walton.” I mimicked his tone perfectly. “I told you I'm not doing it. You need to find someone else to play pretend with.”SYNOPSISIsabella Miller thought saying no to her boss’s fake dating offer was the end of the story.But Adrien Walton doesn’t take no—especially not when he’s convinced she’s a gold digger.Suddenly, her student loans are piling up, her father’s vet clinic is on the brink of eviction and her brother is about to be kicked out of college. Coincidence? She thinks not.Adrien Walton is calm, calculating—and he's just pulled every string to corner Isabella into the perfect position.Now she’s stuck choosing between pride and survival.So she agrees to his offer: be his fake girlfriend.No feelings attached. No drama. Just business.Or so she thought.“Conference Room B. Fifteen minutes,” he said, passing by without a glance.The folder he pushed across the table landed with a thud.I opened it. The contract. All of it.---Enemies to lovers? Check.Slow burn? Hmmnyea.Banter so sharp it might file your nails? Yes.Delicious workplace tension? Of course.Tension that could melt steel?Absolutely.Smut?? Wanna find out?Welcome to corporate romance warfare. There’s no escaping this contract.