Whether You Call Me a Guardian Dragon or Not, I'm Going to Sleep - Chapter 172: Rat, Dragon, and Travel (1)

An anime otaku who has traveled to the world of full-time hunters, in order to live well, he can only keep getting stronger all the time, burying the strong one after another. Your withered life will be continued by me.

- Description from novelbuddy

He was the youngest guru of martial arts as well as the perfect Mr. McDreamy of the most girls. He had mysterious absolute touch, clear-sighted observation ability and various outstanding talents.

But now, he was just an ordinary freshman in University of Jiangjing Chinese Medicine, who wanted to learn Chinese Medicine, see patients, and get into a relationship with a girl in a low-key way. However, in a Mid-Autumn Festival party, he was forced to put on a performance, which shocked the whole audience. The shiny and wonderful university life began from then on.

In the university, he met a beautiful and smart School Beauty Jiang Miaoyu who shook his heart slightly. But the road of love was never smooth, even to a perfect hero.

He also met a kind and friendly teacher Dr. Shen who discovered his excellent technique and gave him a chance to practice.
Besides, his three lovely and interesting roommates were indispensable in his life, although sometimes they looked a little awkward.
But this young hero’s life was not always full of happiness without a hitch, some trouble still appeared from time to time. The domineering and imperious President of the Students’ Union Li Qingshi purposely made difficulties for him repeatedly. The stubborn and hardworking martial arts practitioner Chen Cong often challenged him in different ways.

Just because of these extraordinary personalities around him, this young hero’s road of struggle looked so amazing…

- Description from novelupdates

“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.

“The host has come to the days of your old pretending.”

Chen Mo was stunned for a moment, and put down the polished Shiwang drive in his hand.

“It’s time.”

After finishing speaking, Chen Mo came to an empty square, took out the divine light stick and shouted loudly: “Dija!”

…

Yukino Yukino: “My turn, draw a card!”

Kasumi Hill Shiyu: “theworld!”

Eri Sawamura: “Henshin!”

Kaguya Shinomiya: “This is an equivalent exchange!”

Kato Megumi: “Walking in the dark, serving the light, everything is empty, everything is allowed!”

…

Why is the flower of the high mountain of the academy addicted to playing cards? Why did famous fiction writers twist in strange poses? Why are famous painters in the industry inseparable from toys? Why do rich daughters believe in alchemy? Why do ordinary passers-by wear cloaks?

And why did Yangyang Huaxia frequently appear in the Xiuxian sect?

Looking at this gradually becoming strange world, Chen Mo said that all this has nothing to do with him.

- Description from novelbuddy