Before I Died, I Forcibly Kissed The Heroine - Chapter 264: Everything ends when facing Su Shis anger

Transmigrating to an anime mashup world, Yoshida Tenya thought that a relaxed and pleasant life awaited him! But then he met them...Takanashi Rikka: My evil king's true eye is the strongest!Yotsuya Miko: Yoshida-san, can you see them too?Yukinoshita Yukino: I like cats, but that doesn't mean I want to become a cat!Kato Megumi: Can Tenya-kun notice me?Alisa: милый (cute)Kuchiki Rukia: Tenya, you are very suitable to be a substitute shinigami!Tenya: I just want to get a treasure chest! Is that too much to ask for?[Ding!][Extracting SSS-Rank treasure chest: Conqueror's Haki][Extracting SSS-Rank treasure chest: Zanpakuto: Zangetsu][Extracting S-Rank treasure chest: Mangekyo Sharingan][Extracting S-Rank treasure chest: Ice-Make]

In the interstellar era, gangs and predators are rampant, all over the galaxy. Chen Han, who makes energy blocks for a living, is bullied at the bottom of the society. In order to survive, he throws himself into the darkness and becomes a member of the gang. At the end of the road, he obtained a super warship that can be transformed unlimitedly as long as he has resources, and founded the notorious bandit gang “Beiliang”. At this point, the endless plundering began…

- Description from novelbuddy

Here, only those with spiritual roots can cultivate while those with mortal roots are destined to stay mortal.

Mo Wuji only has mortal roots, but will he only remain as a mortal?

“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.