Comrade: Almost a Cat-astrophic Love Story - Chapter 7 - He Felt Completely Exhausted

Gu MingYue is absolutely done with being the cannon fodder side character of a novel… To think that she, born with beauty and status, had her life and her man stolen by a white lotus who had nothing on her! What on earth is going on!?

But everything changed after she met the one called “System”. After finding out that she was a mere cannon fodder in a novel, and that by completing various missions, she would be able to achieve what she wanted most – to be reborn into her world!

This is a story of a strikingly beautiful and poised cannon fodder, out on a mission to complete quests, and there is only one way to do so – have sex!

Will, a seasoned game designer, found himself reincarnated as the disposable villain in a cliché “kicked out of the party” novel. Faced with his inevitable tragic fate, he had one ambitious dream: to turn the pitiful “losers” from the protagonist’s harem into terrifying blackened bosses who would torment the protagonist!He taught the timid and cowardly wolf-girl maid to imprison the one she loves forever by her side.He trained the tsundere, sharp-tongued loli witch to make her beloved see only her in his eyes.He guided the cold and clueless half-elf princess to use…—

Houjou Yuuji, 30 years old, jobless, hikkomori for 10 years. Using his parents’ death as the impetus, he decides to rid himself of his hikkomori life and leaves the house. What awaited him, however, was a different world that he was not used to, creatures strutting about that he didn’t recognize.

This is the story of a man transported to the another world, as he lives in relative peace with his beloved dog Kotarou – his house, with electricity, water, gas, and the internet somehow still connected.

One day while exploring the forest near his house he finds a girl named Alice, and becomes her guardian. Thus, 4 years after he is transported to this world, Yuuji resolves to venture into his first town.

“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.