Villain: Ultimate Mutation System in the Alternate World - Chapter 36: Reign’s hidden desire

Imperial soldier Suldak Helansa joined the infantry regiment of the Grand Duke Newman in Bena province, participated in the Warsaw plane war, and rescued a young man in the forest battle. This qualified young man suffered some injuries. Injured, still a mute, Suldak brought him into the barracks, and what we are telling is the story of this young man of unknown origin…

- Description from novelbuddy

Ethan Carter was a failed fantasy author who died overworked and bitter. When he wakes up in the world of his own unfinished novel, he finds himself reborn as Darius Wycliffe, a weak and arrogant noble fated to be killed by the protagonist, Lucien Ashford, the Archmage’s Disciple.But Ethan refuses to die so easily. Armed with his knowledge of the world’s secrets and a unique ability to rewrite spells, he dives into the forbidden magic he once created but never fully explored. As he grows stronger, he uncovers terrifying truths about the world he thought he knew.To survive, Ethan must defy destiny, master the deadliest of magics, and challenge the very hero he once wrote to be unbeatable. But what happens when the lines between hero and villain start to blur?

“My daughter will kill me.”A poor man, exhausted and overwhelmed by debt, dies and finds himself in his favorite novel as Arzoth Draven—the character he despised the most. Arzoth Draven is the infamous prince who constantly tries to undermine his brother, Evren Draven, the story's main protagonist. He abandoned his illegitimate daughter in a basement, only to be killed by her years later. Now, having transmigrated into the role of Arzoth Draven, can he avoid this grim fate? And on top of that, he also possesses a system.

“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.