The Second Coming of Gluttony - Chapter 5 - March 16th, 10:30 PM (2)

On the wedding night, when the bride hung herself, the handsome husband was sickly, the concubine was glaring like a tiger to see what her best next move would be. Shu Huan who time-travelled to the ancient times encountered such a mess.

Bash, the Orc Warrior, is a Hero.

During the war, he crushed and defeated all that stood in his path. He is respected by all Orcs as the Orc among Orcs.

However, Bash has a secret.

He has no experience with women – he, the Hero, was a virgin.

For Orcs, who hold combat and sexual prowess in high regard, being a virgin was tremendously shameful.

[The fact that I’m a not only a virgin, but a virgin Orc Hero, is a shame for all of Orcish society. I want a wife too!]

With this in mind, he decides to embark on a journey.

In order to protect the pride and honor of his race, but mostly to finally get his d*ck wet, he decides to go to leave on a grand quest to find himself a woman.

Dionis endured soul-wrenching torment at the hands of his bullies, enduring daily humiliations and brutal beatings that left his spirit in pieces. However, one decisive day, he resolved to transcend his past, striving to transform into a man of dignity and worthiness, shedding the chains of degradation. His transformation journey encompassed both mental and physical training.

After defeating those who once tormented him and reclaiming his dignity, he peacefully graduated from middle school, progressing to high school. But as he stood at this new point, an emptiness gnawed at his soul.

“Why do I miss that feeling?” he pondered aloud.

“I forced myself to become a weapon, yet now i lie dormant,” he added.

Thus, Dionis, reaching out for something that gave him thrill and enjoyment, he entered the world of illegal businesses, trying to get back the excitement he felt back in middle school.

He entered the world of illegal business blind, yet Dionis utilized his brilliant mind to emerge as a formidable presence, evoking fear and commanding a growing following. The birth of a shadowy organization marked his ascent to evil, conquering everything in his path.

……………………………………………………………

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“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.